Review: Sometimes it's just too difficult to contain our excitement; we're quaking in our boots at news of Khruangbin's next release, with the Texan three-piece this time lending their alt-indie-funk mastery to vocal frontage by Leon Bridges. The humorously titled lead single 'B-side' is emblematic of their stated aim here - to redefine "how people perceive Texas music i that beautiful marriage of country and r'n'b i and really paying homage to that." The sonic result? Bubbling bass and wahhy riffs, over a ghostly and misty relaxers' beat. Its hook digs into our thighs deeper than a Sheriff's steel spurs, and fittingly, it's music video is themed after a 19th Century western town.
Review: Unsettled Scores Records presents the long-overdue release of the soundtrack to The New York Graffiti Experience 1976, a seminal documentary by Fenton Lawless. One of the earliest films to document NYC's graffiti culture, the project began in 1974-75 as a slideshow created by Lawless and producer Justine DiIanni and featured original photos as well as the track 'French Fry 97.' That song, along with other recordings from 1974 by Lawless and his band, now appear on this official soundtrack, which is previously unreleased. The music captures the raw thrill and creativity of a pivotal moment in underground culture so this is a vital piece of NYC history.
Review: We're excited by this fresh repress from the fine folks at PVine because it brings back to life an iconic cut from the widely beloved Hawaiian AOR album Lui. This classic gentle sound is also known for its stunning artwork and has long been a fav of collectors and diggers. Alongside 'Oh, Oh (I Think I'm Fallin' In Love)' on the A-side, you can find 'My Lover' on the flip and it is another showcase of the smooth, mellow grooves that appeal to free soul and AOR enthusiasts. These two timeless and once 'contemporary Hawaiian' songs from the 70s feature plenty of local musicians and have subtle influence from the US West Coast sound.
Review: Times change, things get worse, outlooks seem bleaker, and the storm grows more severe. It's times like these you really need a ballast, something to hold on to and call upon for reassurance. Since inception, Lambchop have tried to be that force for good in a world hellbent on marching to madness. And The Bible is the group's finest hour for several years, although on the face of things it's not necessarily very different from immediate predecessors.
Lead singer Kurt Wagner has frequently quipped that his band don't really fit the country genre label, but again we're struggling to think of where else to place this. Country and Western it certainly isn't, but the totems are definitely down that route. That strong, iconic, patient and thought-provoking yet scarred voice, songs dealing with both the festival and comedown of life itself. This is slow, piercingly poignant stuff, from the heartbroken piano quiet of 'So There', to gospel-infused jazz on 'Police Dog Blues'.
Review: Here we go again, then. Studio album number eight from Ray LaMontagne is doing him no disservice in terms of that formidable reputation. Taking on the roles of producer, engineer, singer, songwriter and every-instrumentalist for the purposes of this record, words like 'auteur' certainly make sense when talking about 'Monovision'.Enough preamble, onto the main event - 'Monovision' is the perfect reflection of a musician in peak form. When that iconic, throaty voice roars out over the slight-of-hand acoustic guitar plucks of opener 'Roll Me Mama, Roll Me', you're immediately captivated. Tracks like 'Strong Enough' set the tempo much higher, stomping a way through old timey rock 'n' roll tones, standing in complete contrast to the tender refrains and more mournful (or at least reflective) atmospheres of 'Summer Clouds' and 'We'll Make It Through'. To be honest, we're barely worthy.
Review: Critics talk of 'timelessness' like it's going out of fashion, but when it comes to Irish folk the word carries more clout. Lankum, a four piece contemporary outfit born from the ever-thriving Dublin scene and a duo project, Lynched (named after the band's two founding brothers, Ian and Daragh Lych), are a perfect example of what we're talking about. Live In Dublin is a great reference point to understand this. If ever there were sounds made to be experienced IRL then it might be the noises these multi-instrumentalists evidently love to make. Simultaneously capable of transporting us to peaty moorlands of the past, while hitting nail on head as to where we are today, and presenting bold visions of how sounds might develop tomorrow, from rousing crescendos to pin-drop-quiet, this is relentlessly captivating stuff.
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