I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see The The live. The band’s leader, frontman, and songwriter, Matt Johnson, had seemingly retired many years ago to make film scores and write other non-musical projects. Then, in 2018, he did a reunion tour through the United Kingdom. I thought that would’ve been great to see (and video recordings of the shows bear me out), but guessed that my only chance was gone.
Then he released Ensoulment, his first new album in almost thirty years and announced a world tour that was stopping in Chicago. I signed up for pre-sale tickets and snagged a pair as soon as possible. My friend, Brian, and I went, both of us having been fans since 1986’s Infected album.
There was no opening band. The The played two sets. The first was Ensoulment in its entirety, and this was the first time I’d heard more than the first three singles from it. The first half is almost a jazz album, and Johnson’s sharp lyrics and jabs at the political establishment (i.e., “Kissing the Ring of the POTUS”) on both sides of the pond still hit like a gold medal fencer.
Following a 15-minute intermission, the band came back out for a “time traveler’s set” of material from their previous albums, opening with a slightly stripped-down, but no less funky version of “Infected.” “Armageddon Days Are Here (Again)” and “Heartland” were big hits with the crowd. “Love Is Stronger Than Death” was a beautiful addition to the set, and Johnson declared “This Is the Day” as a song of hope that was just as important now as when he wrote it decades earlier.
All of his songs still resonate. “Lonely Planet” prompted a “Fuck yeah!” shout from a guy a couple rows ahead of us when Johnson announced it to close the second set. The encore was two songs from Soul Mining, which had been released forty-one years prior (“I wasn’t even born then,” Johnson said.). “Uncertain Smile” and “Giant” rounded out the show, leaving a lot of people happy and buzzing. The whole crowd was in the same boat as Brian and I. We all thought we might not get to hear these songs live, and were all thankful that it happened.
What do you do when you’re an attorney who doesn’t have much to do during the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown? If you’re Douglas Richards, you go back to doing what you did before you became an attorney – being a rave DJ and making the Project 85 EP.
The first track, “Everyone Has Their Own Reasons,” is a tale of one of Richards’ friends experimenting with DMT, using his friend’s own telling of the tale for the vocals and stacking them with hot 303 beats and bouncing bass.
“I’m Here for You,” using more of the same conversation for more vocals, becomes a robotic techno ripper that bumps and thumps in all the right places. “I Move with Intention” has some retro vibes, sounding not unlike an early 1980s disco cut that you’ve been digging in crates to find for the last thirty years.
Richards is about to blow the doors off dance clubs across the world if he keeps up with stuff like this. Don’t miss out.
Hailing from Lisbon, Portugal, the trio of Maquina combine krautrock, electro, industrial, and shoegaze on their first full-length album, Prata. Trust me, it all works quite well.
Opener “Body Control” unleashes groovy fuzz bass to get your hips moving and then bonks you on the head with hard-edged synths, guitars, and howls. “Denial” has a spooky edge to it (and is a song about turmoil, after all), and there’s still time to put it on your Halloween playlist, so why not?
The beat and pulse of “Subversive” are infectious and will probably cause you to stomp the gas pedal if you listen to it while driving. “Kontakte” (“Contact”) has this weird, almost unsettling bounce to it that might be the throbbing of a UFO engine as it approaches you on a dark night…only to reveal a goth dance club inside it run by sexy aliens.
The opening bass of “Desterro” (“Exile”) brings to mind some of the same energy label mates A Place to Bury Strangers often unleash. Ending with “Concentrate,” Prata comes to a close with chugging drums and growling, simmering danger. It’s like a snake slithering across the room at you…and the snake is an android…and it’s programmed to lead you onto a monorail in the Lisbon of 2099.
There isn’t a bad track on this album, and it makes you want to catch them live. I’m sure it’s a wild experience…just like Prata.
Classical Indian music mixed with synth-wave? I’m there all day.
Shawn Mativesky, otherwise known as Temporal Waves, has released his debut self-titled album and it’s a wild mix of those two genres. I don’t know how he does it, but he blends tabla so well with analog synths and drum machines that you’re often not sure where one ends and the other begins.
He also gives any of the tracks on the album ample time to breathe. The opener, “I Remember,” is over six minutes long. It’s a beautiful track that puts you in a different headspace. The whole album does, really. It puts you into a trance one moment, and then sends you rushing to the dance floor the next.
There are four subtle “Interludes” on the album, each one setting the table for the next track, such as “Interlude I – Skyline” being a hazy lead-in to near-creepy “Sprawl Twilight.” “Interlude II – Scorched” is a perfect opening for the next track, “Eclipse of an Urban Dystopia,” just from the titles alone, but the dark, John Carpenter-like tones of both are a good pair.
You could put “Interlude III – Tomorrow Machine” on a horror / sci-fi film soundtrack and “Cortical Network Oscillations” could be the sound of an alien transmission. The build-up of “Cyclotron” is a cool opening to what sounds like a forgotten 1970s TV show theme. “Water Temple” drifts along for the first half and then drops deep synth-bass on you in the second. “Luminous Objects” might be the loveliest song on the album. It seems to make you float.
Mativesky’s hands and fingers are moving so fast on this tabla on “Data Cassette Sunrise” that you’re often taken out of whatever you’re doing while listening to it to think, “Holy cow…Does he have three hands?” I love how he adds apparent vintage video game sounds on “Awakening.” They blend in perfect with the raga-like hypnotic effects of his playing.
“Warmth of the Winter Sun” is loaded with heavy bass, bright synths, and wicked beats that are positively uplifting before the wind-down of “Postlude” to send us away with new energy.
It was the second of two sold-out shows for Osees in what’s become an annual autumn tradition at Chicago’s Thalia Hall. The crowd was buzzing at the outset, and everyone knew a good, wild time was coming.
The party started with Iguana Death Cult, all the way from The Netherlands. I hadn’t heard of them until this night, and at first wasn’t sure what to make of them. Were they punk, funk, post-punk, post-funk, post-psych, pre-psych? I’m still not sure if I know, but I do know that they were a lot of fun, the songs were wild, and each one was better than the last.
The crowd was behind them all the way, and had a fun mosh pit going by the end of their set. I chatted with their lead singer, Jeron Reek, after the show, and he told me they’d played South by Southwest twice, and other clubs and events across the U.S. a few times, “but this was the best.”
Osees came out to a happy crowd and soon got underway with a no-frills, no muss, no fuss set of wild garage-psych that began with “I Come from the Mountain” and barely let up to give the mosh pit time to catch a breath.
No backdrop, no projections…just simple lights and heavy shredding.
As always, the band had enough energy to power a Formula 1 race car through 500 laps with double drummers Paul Quattrone and Dan Rincon leading the charge. “A Foul Form,” “Toe Cutter – Thumb Buster,” and “Animated Violence” had the front half of the crowd in a wild frenzy.
Lead singer and guitarist John Dwyer announced “Tidal Wave” as “an old one,” but everyone reacted like it was a brand new gift. He introduced “The Dream” as “Here’s a new one that nobody likes,” and the crowd proceeded to go bonkers.
“Warm Slime” was a great addition, and the night ended with two long psychedelic tracks, “C” and “Minotaur.” I love Osees’ longer psych-rock cuts, so I was digging it. I must, as always, give mention to Tom Dolas on keyboards and Tim Hellman on bass, who always keep the whole band grounded. Dolas is like a magician in the background putting in tones and sounds that would make the songs feel weird without them, and Hellman is one of the sturdiest bass workhorses in all rock music. That guy is solid all the time and never stumbles.
Both bands will be performing at Levitation Music Festival, with Osees doing a four-night residency at Hotel Vegas no less. Don’t miss either of them.
The first time I saw Slift was at the Levitation Music Festivalin 2022. It was the last show of their U.S. tour, in a small venue, and they held back nothing. It was as if they blasted every drop of rocket fuel they had.
Now I was seeing them in an even smaller venue and with Meatbodies, no less, opening for them.
I’d been keen on seeing Meatbodies since I heard their newest album, Flora Ocean Tiger Bloom. Their live sets are as good as the record – trippy, heavy, and loud. It was a solid set, and the sold-out crowd loved it. The sound quality of their set was top-notch, too.
Slift was in full cosmic-psych mode to the point where they were selling posters at their merch table featuring schematics of the spaceship seen in the videos for their newest album, Ilion.
One thing you need to know about seeing Slift live is that every song sounds like a finale. They pack so much power and energy into their songs that you keep thinking, “It’s going to be tough to match that one,” and then they do it – every time.
They played a wall-shaking set of new and older material that had the whole place buzzing. The galactic nature of their lyrics and sound, and the near relentlessness of it almost becomes an out-of-body experience.
Don’t miss either of these bands. They’re touring all over the place, and will both be at Levitation Music Festival soon.
Keep your mind open.
[Don’t forget to subscribe before you go!]
[Thanks to Kate at Stereo Sanctity, Frank and Bekah at SubPop, and Slift for the press pass!]
The brief bio on Haute-de-France’s Goodbye Meteor‘s Bandcamp page lists their sound as “immersive and solar post-rock” that’s created for “opening the way for harmony between humans and nature.”
I’m glad they included this, because I was unsure of how to describe their newest album, We Could Have Been Radiant. I knew it wasn’t quite shoegaze, ambient, or psychedelic. It was somehow all three, and yet none of those.
The theme of the album is humanity’s search for something more, and often being disappointed when we find “it” because we realize we had “it” all along here in the present moment.
Opening with “This Is Not Here,” the quartet unleashes soaring guitar sounds that would be appropriate for hang gliding through a mountain range. It awakens you and reminds you that what you think is important right now is probably not that at all. “No Signal” implies the worst nightmare of many in this age of internet addiction and dependence, but the snappy drums and expansive guitar sounds makes you think having no cellphone or computer for a while would be the greatest thing you’ve experienced in a long time.
“Destructuration” builds from a drift through space to flying through a heavy meteor shower by the end. “What Are We Here For?” is the longest track on the album, clocking in just over twelve minutes, and it uses the time to make you sit back and think on things as it creates a sound around you that brings to mind images of spotting a far shore after days lost at sea or the sun finally breaking over the horizon after a seemingly endless night in the dark.
The title track is full of power and also subtlety. It shifts your perspective rather than blow your mind. The album ends with “Phosphenes,” a short track to uplift you on a high note as you consider what’s happening right here and right now.
Did I mention this album (apart from the final track) is instrumental? It’s good stuff, and best heard as one continuous experience. Check it out if you want to change how things appear.
Not to get all “Gen X is cool” on you, but do you remember when cereal boxes used to include phonograph records in or on the box? Seriously, this was a thing. You could get a flexi-disc record in a box of Count Chocula that featured cereal mascots at the disco or even score a Jackson 5 record from a box of Alpha-Bits.
I don’t know if Oliver Ackermann (vocals, guitar, synths), John Fedowitz (bass, vocals, synths), and Sandra Fedowitz (drums, vocals, synths) were listening to a flexi-disc copy of Bobby Sherman songs found in a box of Honey-Comb when they got the idea for their latest album, Synthesizer, but it reminded me of these flexi-discs because the packaging is a musical instrument.
Yes, you can buy a vinyl copy of the record with a cover that includes dials, wires, and other bits of gear that can be used (with soldering tools and other simple devices) to turn the album cover in to a synthesizer. No joke.
When I heard they’d done this, I first thought, “That is the coolest idea I’ve heard all year,” and then thought, “Yeah, this is perfect for them.”
It’s perfect because APTBS are always pushing the envelope and finding new ways to immerse you in sound. Beyond the wild feat of having an album cover that doubles as a musical instrument, Synthesizer is also a really good record that blasts you into an altered state.
Opening track “Disgust,” for example, blares at you right out of the gate, and Ackermann has said that it’s a half-joke “to turn people off from listening to the record.” Only the daring will venture on after the opening salvo. Only the daring will be rewarded with this track about the pleasure and pitfalls of lust, let alone the rest of the album. The guitars on “Don’t Be Sorry” are like stabs in a giallo film.
The synth bass of “Fear of Transformation” will get the industrial fans to pay attention as Ackermann sings about overcoming fear as it sometimes overwhelms us through the simplest things. Mrs. Fedowitz’s live drums mix well with electronic thumps, creating a near-panic – which is what the trio wanted us to feel all along. The haunting “Join the Crowd” is like a slow slide into a shadowy world that always seems to be on the edge of your vision as Ackermann wonders when people stopped caring about each other (“And is it me? Am I the only one here who even cares? Now I know why. You never had a choice or care.”).
“Bad Idea” has Mr. Fedowitz (whose “bad idea” for something to work on that day in the studio became the sone) considering a reconnection, even though it might cause him to end up flat on his face in the street. Ackermann’s guitar sounds like an angry beetle skittering around in a tin can at one point and like a miter saw in others, while Mr. Fedowitz’s bass line grumbles like a paranoid android.
Romance is a not-so-hidden theme on Synthesizer, and it’s great to hear Ackermann and the Fedowitzs embracing it. “You Got Me” is upbeat and reminds me of some early Cure tracks in that it mixes gothic tones so well with lyrics like “In a world where the universe is crashing down and there’s no hope, I feel ok. You question life, but there’s one thing you’ll never have to ask me. You got me.”
“It’s Too Much” is a fascinating mixed of warped sounds and more lyrics about being overcome with good emotions you haven’t felt in a long while (“I go out, but didn’t know you’d be there, and all this time I thought I was fine, but now I’m high.”). Mr. Fedowitz gives Peter Hook a run for his money on “Plastic Furniture.” I mean, come on, his bass riff on this is insane.
“Have You Ever Been in Love?” is a wild one, with Mrs. Fedowitz crushing her drum kit and adding spooky yet lovely backing vocals and cries throughout it – helping Ackermann express his anguish over a breakup (“Knife in heart. I want to die, seeing you pass me by.”). The closing track, “Comfort Never Comes,” might end up being a new synth-psych classic as it builds with gorgeous notes, Wall of Voodoo-like guitar chords, A Flock of Seagulls-like synth flourishes, and hypnotic rhythms. Ackermann acknowledges his faults in a relationship that’s beyond repair and that he wishes he could amend things (“You and I are in pieces. You could lift me like a stone…You and I are in pieces. I could lift you like a rose.”).
I can’t recommend this album enough to you. I’m sure it’s an absolute sonic wall coming at you on vinyl, but I encourage you to give it a deep headphone / earbud listen. Like any synthesizer played well, it changes the feel of everything around you and within you.
Bonnie Trash (Dana Bellamy – drums, Emmalia Bortolon-Vettor – guitar, Sarafina Bortolon-Vettor – vocals, and Emma Howarth-Withers – bass) are no strangers to heavy subjects. Their debut EP from 2017, Ezzelini’s Dead, told the story of a real-life cannibalistic tyrant. 2022’s Malocchio and 2023’s Hail, Hale! told horror tales often spoken to sisters Emmalia and Sarafina by their grandmother. Now, on their newest EP, My Love Remains the Same, they tackle themes of love and the loss of it.
Howarth-Withers solid bass groove locks in the opener, “Kisses Goodbye,” which has Sarafina Bortolon-Vettor walking away from a relationship she knows isn’t going to last but also is gut-wrenching to end. Her sister’s guitar fuzz reminds me of some Jesus and Mary Chain cuts with its deft flow between almost garage-pop and melt-your-face assault.
“What Have You Become” gets darker, thanks in large part to Bellamy’s heavier beats and lyrics like “Love is not enough to take the pain away.” and others that confront the agony and relentless questions your mind creates during deep grief.
The EP ends with a slick and menacing cover of Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds‘ “Red Right Hand.” They up the metal growl in it and you can feel Sarafina Bortolon-Vettor practically casting a hex upon you as she sings it.
Bonnie Trash is working on a new full-length album due in 2025. Keep your eyes open for it. It might sneak up on you in the shadows.
What is it to be alive in this day and age? Heck, in any day and age? How many different masks do we wear? How do we juggle all of it without going nuts? Brijean (Brijean Murphy – vocals and percussion, Doug Stuart – all sorts of things and production) wonder about this stuff on their new album, Macro, and their answer seems to be “Embrace the ride.”
I mean, the only lyrics on the brief opener “Get Lost” are “Let’s go.” After that, they encourage us to go to “Euphoric Avenue” as Murphy sings about seeing familiar, yet unknown faces on the train and how she spies “comedies in the most mundane.” Logan Hone‘s guest flute on it turns the track into a delightful trip. “Bang Bang Boom” is a call to playful action. “So, this is it. It’s all or nothing. So, pony up and ride it out…It’s in the micro moments. It’s in a macro way.” I’m not sure which I like best on this track: Murphy’s conga beats or Stuart’s bass groove.
“After Life” is a lovely romantic song about how a lover can take your breath away and make you “feel magnetic.” Stuart’s soaring synths and guest star Ryan Richter‘s lap steel guitar blend to create a powerful warmth. “Breathe” encourages all of us to get off the internet (Please wait until after you’ve read this review.) and do simple free things that recharge us, such as “taking walks and dancing where I please” and sitting in the park. Its bubbly beat will inspire you to do all of that.
“Counting Sheep” has Murphy missing her lover, but still seeing them in her dreams (“It’s only in my dreams when I’m with you.”) and sometimes that’s good enough (“They’re visions, I know. Synthetic, I’m told, but feels good to me.”). The bumping synth bass and beats on it are great for sexy dancing in your kitchen.
We can all relate to “Workin’ on It” – a song about trying to get fit, get better sleep, get paid, get laid, and everything else (“Modern times have a hold on me. Let’s be honest, I’m workin’ on it. Watch me juggle my priorities.”). It has this fun, almost aerobic workout beat to it that will encourages you to get out of your chair and either workout or get to work…because on “Scenic Route,” Murphy is “Late for work again.” and looking for anyway to get out of it and enjoy the day instead of being stuck in traffic yet again (“Turning signals, traffic jams. Is this really who I am?”). Sometimes turning off the usual route to the scenic one is the best course of action. The panning effect that Stuart drops on this is outstanding, by the way.
After all, as Murphy sings on “Roller Coaster,” “Life’s just a rental.” Why take it so seriously? “Ride the waves, the highs, the lows,” she sings / encourages. “Laura” ends the album with fun tropical disco beats to keep your energy moving as you step out the door.
“It’s upbeat and sensual,” said my girlfriend after hearing Macro (and Brijean) for the first time. That’s a perfect way to sum it up, and how Brijean suggest we experience life.
