Empire State Noise

gobbinjr- Vom Night

           “I just wanna be perfect / Anything less is shameful,” is the best line on gobbinjr’s latest EP Vom Night for two reasons. One, it’s an excellent representation of the telling, confessional lyricism that’s spread throughout the six gorgeous tracks. Two, after listening through it a few times, the line becomes somewhat of a thesis statement for how the NYC-based songwriter constructed this project. Although it has the homemade feel of works by Teen Suicide, Elvis Depressedly, Alex G and Eskimeux, Vom Night’s squeaky clean production elevates it to a different level of the bedroom-pop scene—one that could smoothly transition gobbinjr into a broader market if she were so inclined.

vom night by gobbinjr

           Even at such a young age she’s already mastered and advanced beyond the conventional pop hook, as the peppy opener “Mantee” is filled with both an earworm synth melody and a catchy chorus. She knows how to build a song that’s enticing from start to finish, as the two longest tracks on the EP, “Undies” and “May We All Have Space,” are stuffed with layers of synths, plucky rhythms, and carefully leveled harmonies. Many of these tracks find the middleground between bubbly and somber, but she hits her sweet spot when she sings, “I just want the human race to die / I just want to be your firefly,” over haunting organs that grow tenser as they blend with a swirl of keys.

That’s during the closer, “Firefly,” but the same nuanced crescendo is successfully packed into the beauteous “Perfect” in less than two minutes. The aforementioned lyric about perfection is fearlessly repeated over and over as she adds new synth lines, flanger effects, and vocal pitch shifts. Though, not once does she bury the lyric in the mix. It’s a proclamation of what Vom Night is and where it will ultimately take gobbinjr. An EP like this deserves everyone’s attention. Anything less is shameful.

 Mannequin Pussy- Romantic

           While Vom Night is one of the prettiest releases of the year, Mannequin Pussy’s sophomore LP Romantic is one of the ugliest. This 17-minute mashup of a dozen different types of rock is utterly headspinning—rivaling the breathless intensity of Jeff Rosenstock’s Worry that dropped two weeks earlier. Marisa Dabice’s vocals are mostly incomprehensible, as she’s either violently snarling, smeared with distortion, or belting mouthfuls of lyrics at such a fast pace that you can’t keep up.

Romantic by MANNEQUIN PUSSY

           This is part of what makes the record so interesting though. These songs are so manic, so reckless, and so coarse that they force the listener to just sit the fuck down and really feel the unadulterated anxiety the band is puking forward. Listening to this record can be uncomfortable, simply because there’s not a single part of any song where you can zone out, and the transitions are so sudden and unpredictable. A hardcore punk track like “Ten” will screech by and quickly give way to a rough, power-pop song like “Emotional High” that appears to signal a more melodic turn in the tracklist. But nope. The eerie “Pledge” follows, then the second power-pop track “Denial,” and then when you think you’ve got it figured out, it’s back to blistering hardcore.  

           There’s some stuff in here that sounds like the new Merchandise record did a line of a Screaming Females album, some Pixies worship, and even a gospely choir intro on the last track that sounds like they snuck in the beginning of a Kanye song. Sometimes records that are this frenzied end up sounding sloppy. Romantic isn’t one of those. Despite being raw and deranged, Mannequin Pussy know how to play their instruments and they know how to write a damn good song. It doesn’t just sound like a band toying with a range of styles. It sounds like a band who’ve moved beyond that stage, actually possess that range, and are now piecing that diverse pallet together to create a whole new style.

 Haybaby- Yours

           In April, the Brooklyn trio Haybaby released one of the best EP’s of the year, Blood Harvest, via the budding indie powerhouse Tiny Engines (The Hotelier, Adult Mom, Mannequin Pussy). The band really came into their own on those five tracks, developing a tense, sinister sound that pairs hooky, minor key basslines and whispered verses with abrupt outbursts of grungy riffs and menacing wails. “Yours,” the one-off single the band unexpectedly dropped this past Thursday, continues to build on that formula with a climax that’s even more explosive than any of the tracks on Blood Harvest.

Yours by Haybaby

           With a lead riff that embodies the soundtrack to a slasher film, the verses slowly, though predictably, become more intense as they lead up to a thick, chugging riff that vocalist Leslie Hong growls over. The band queued us in to their affinity with heavy music on the hardcore bruiser “What It Is” from Blood Harvest, but the chorus of this song encourages the type of Neolithic fist pumping a Code Orange track would incite. There’s also a strange delay effect on the guitar midway through the song that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Trent Reznor project.

That’s not to say the band is vying for a spot on next year’s This Is Hardcore lineup, but the direction they’re moving in seems to be heavier, darker, and bolder. It’ll be interesting to see where Haybaby end up in 2017.

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Strange Ranger- “Sunbeams Through Your Head”

           Back in February, a Portland, Oregon band called Sioux Falls quietly released one of the best indie rock records of the year, if not the past half-decade. “Rot Forever” was an eclectic, winding, 72-minute epic that channeled the band’s PNW forefathers, Modest Mouse and Built To Spill, while still maintaining a unique, modern identity. Now, some seven months later, that band is called Strange Ranger, they dropped from a trio to a duo, and their new EP “Sunbeams Through Your Head” is here to usher in a stark change in style.

Sunbeams Through Your Head by Strange Ranger

           Given the short timeframe in which the two were released, it’s hard not to compare “Sunbeams” to its predecessor. However, despite there being a myriad of differences between the two, “Sunbeams” is still distinctively the same band. Each song possesses that hazy, cloudy quality that sounds like the sonic embodiment of a warm, damp, mountain-top breeze. The opening title track jumps right into vocalist Isaac Eiger’s mumbly falsetto, a voice that’s immediately familiar to any fan of “Rot Forever.” Although, this time it’s not contrasted with Eiger’s throaty yelps, but rather nicely complemented by soft swirls of keys, both acoustic and electric guitars, and more subdued percussion.

           The first song effectively sets the tone for what’s to come. Most of this EP is quieter and doesn’t explode the way “Rot Forever” does, as the songs are too short to grow into anything grand. Instead they slowly crescendo and then abruptly cease, with more attention to layers and subtleties than raw emotion. This songwriting approach is reflected in the lyrics as well. Whereas “Rot Forever” was exceptionally stream-of-conscious and detailed, “Sunbeams” is a lot sparser, selective, and vague with what it chooses to reveal.

Rot Forever by Sioux Falls

           Although “Sunbeams” is very different musically, the progression feels natural almost the whole way through. That is, until the finale, “Oh Oh Oh Oh,” which consists of Eiger desperately yelping over a sole organ in an exaggerated, forced manner that unfortunately leaves an extremely sour taste at the end of a very sweet record. It’s a frustrating finish, but fortunately the second track “Life Would Be Cooler” is enough of a gem to balance it out. Clearly the band is headed in a new direction, and this EP is certainly intriguing enough to spark anticipation for whatever comes next.  

 AJJ- “The Bible 2”

           Similar to Strange Ranger, AJJ (formerly known as Andrew Jackson Jihad) underwent a name change and a rebranding of sorts for their latest record “The Bible 2.” Whereas their earlier, most appreciated work was essentially a demented breed of folk-punk, “The Bible 2” is a blazing, modern rock record. Crunchy guitars, crisp production, and earworm melodies are plentiful on this album, and there’s a fresh, youthful exuberance to it that makes it hard to believe it’s coming from a band who’ve been around for over ten years.

The Bible 2 by AJJ

           Right from the start, vocalist Sean Bonnette expresses his disdain for his younger, angrier self, calling himself “a killing machine” and a “total dick to inanimate objects.” Bonnette’s perspective throughout the record is that of a wiser, more respectful, even mature man who’s able to criticize and take responsibility for his previous actions. This type of dialogue might be boring if employed by another band, but Bonnette’s notoriously wry, direct, and blunt writing style keeps the listener intrigued and smirking throughout.

           This is especially apparent on the song “White Worms,” where Bonnette takes a jab at Journey, organized religion, and the entire concept of being pressured into doing something you don’t want to do. “Some dumb dick says don’t stop believing / You can stop believing / Just stop believing / You can stop believing, stop believing / Don’t don’t stop believing,” he sings over a punchy, upbeat, head-bopper.

           Lyrics aside though, the best part about this record is how catchy and fun it is. Shockingly catchy and fun- especially considering the lyrical content and the band’s earlier discography. From the shrieking guitar solo on “Golden Eagle,” to the airy, 80s-esque synths on “American Garbage,” AJJ prove that a band can be unashamedly anxious, theologically critical, and fist-pumpingly joyous all on one record.  

 Angel Olsen- “My Woman”

           Like AJJ, Angel Olsen is another artist who’s folk beginnings have progressed into a full-on rock experience. However, that’s basically the only similarity between the two. “My Woman” is a much more careful, delicate record that’s more akin to what Mitski or Courtney Barnett did with their latest releases. That is, a variety of musical styles spread throughout one project and a fearlessness toward experimentation.

           “My Woman” is essentially split into two halves. The first half is more urgent, upbeat, and straightforward, whereas the second half delves into longer, more patient songs that gradually expand. “Shut Up Kiss Me” is the obvious pop song of the record, but it’s not clean and perfect. Olsen spits the chorus, “shut up, kiss me, hold me tight,” out brashly and intimately, which results in it feeling more like an unintentional, fed-up exclamation than a sweet request for affection. However, it’s her belting in the latter half of the track that really sells it.

           In fact, Olsen’s vocal fluctuations are what keeps this record unpredictable and interesting throughout. Even when she veers off into drawn-out, vocally bare sections such as in the “Gimmie Shelter”-esque “Not Gonna Kill You,” her primitive wail that enters as the track explodes into a driving frenzy of sharp percussion and coarse guitarwork is excitingly climactic. She frequently begins songs with a quieter, lower vocal register and then unexpectedly busts out her ever-impressive falsetto later in the track. That’s what puts her in a vocal league above Mitski and Courtney Barnett, who rely more on moodiness and melody, respectively.

           Upon first listen, “My Woman” seemed a bit lackluster- especially during the considerably longer second half. It’s a grower, and each listen reveals another collection of little details that make this record enjoyable and satisfying from front to back.

 Culture Abuse- “Peach”

           Culture Abuse’s debut LP “Peach” dropped via 6131 records in the spring and it is an absolute banger. With a unique style that combines the energy and attitude of hardcore and punk with the melodicism and instrumentation of grunge and heavy alt-rock, “Peach” is comfortably familiar, yet refreshingly unusual. The best way to describe it to a modern listener would be a fusion of Angel Dust, Diarrhea Planet, and Nothing.

Peach by CULTURE ABUSE

           The band utilize a triple-guitar assault, creating a wash of distorted riffage that immediately sounds considerably thicker and bolder than most of their contemporaries. On top of that, the rhythm section is extremely tight (the drum solos at the end of “Chinatown” are killer) and the vocals have enough variety to be full-on punk at times, and then textured and melodic at others.

           The Philadelphia four-piece play an interesting blend of shoegaze, dream pop, and grunge that they mastered on their sophomore full-length “Tired of Tomorrow.” The record, released earlier this year via Relapse Records, was produced by the notorious Will Yip (Title Fight, Turnover, Superheaven) who perfectly balanced the airiness and the thickness of the band’s massive, distorted output. Many of the songs feature chunky riffs and heavy rhythms that are channeled through the genre’s trademark “wall of sound” dynamic, but there’s a lethargic, dreamy quality to the them that sits well and doesn’t become overbearing.

           However, the band’s appearance is an almost humorously stark contrast to their soothing sound. Three of the four members are coated in tattoos and were dressed in accordance with the traditional hardcore aesthetic, rather than the Brooklyn hipster attire other bands of their ilk employ. They were also blatantly wasted-particularly frontman Domenic Palermo, who jokingly introduced the band as “We’re Nothing from Philadelphia” after every song, and babbled extraneously about the usage of the word “kidnapping” for victims of all ages.

           Nevertheless, the bottle of wine they passed amongst themselves didn’t have any impact on their playing ability. None of their songs are complex, but they had undeniable chemistry; finding a groove somewhere in the wash of reverb and distortion, and holding it succinctly. Although their discography includes a number of slower, dronier cuts, they made the right choice by mostly playing from the upbeat, bouncy, and catchy side of their repertoire.

           Though the most memorable feature of the performance was how damn loud it was. During the band’s soundcheck, Palermo said to the sound person, “Yeah make it as loud as you can. It probably won’t be loud enough, but you can try.” That wasn’t an exaggeration. The tidal wave of noise they concocted was ear-piercingly loud-easily the loudest I’ve experienced at that venue-but the band was completely unfazed. It was as if years of relentless cacophony had tarnished their eardrums to the point of irreversible disrepair, so why not get even louder?  

           It quickly became obvious that their songs were designed for the live setting, as the main riffs in tracks like “Get Well” and “Eaten By Worms” exploded outwards like newly unchained beasts. The crunchy breakdown in “Vertigo Flowers” is one of the band’s heaviest moments on recording and it sounded glorious cranking out of their monitors. Even their pop song (by shoegaze standards) “Chloroform” benefited from the sheer volume and intensity of such a cramped, sweaty little room.

           Compared to their peers in Pity Sex, who played the same venue a couple months prior, and are also a bunch of ex-hardcore kids playing fuzzed-out, gazey alt-pop, Nothing were insurmountably more engaging. It takes legitimate talent to take songs that are inherently sleepy and translate them into genuinely exciting, memorable rock tunes. Unlike most other bands where I feel satisfied for a good while after seeing them perform, I cannot wait to see Nothing again because I now feel that it’s the only real way to experience their music.

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           The following releases have been perfect for just that. Here’s this week’s noise:

 Cool American- You Can Win A Few

           Portland, Oregon’s got a cool little niche scene bubbling right now, as bands like Sioux Falls, Snow Roller, and Turtlenecked have dropped some of the year’s most interesting rock records. Now, the debut full-length from Cool American can be added to that list as well, for it treads familiar indie rock territory, but in a way that doesn’t sound cheaply recycled. Songwriter Nathan Tucker tastefully blends the nasally, half-baked vocals of Snow Roller (his other band) with the urgency, edge and acute melodicism of Sioux Falls.

You Can Win A Few by cool american

           However, that’s not to say the band is simply an amalgamation of their comrades and forefathers. Tracks like “Only Thing” and the opener “Struggle For Motivation” are sweet and satisfying indie rock numbers-the former of which holds one of the most memorable one-liners of the year: “The only thing you know how to do/is to become what somebody else wants you to.”

           The 11 tracks are all similar in structure, but they often crescendo slowly into a yelly, powerful outro. They’re easily recognizable after a couple listens, but the album doesn’t fall victim to tiresome predictability like many other melodic indie rock records do. The crown jewel is the slow-burning “Consumes Itself” that follows many of the record’s catchiest tracks. It begins unassumingly, but builds slowly until the raspy background vocals take over and the track evolves into a churning, densely layered fusion of distortion and soaring “woo-oo’s.” It’s the selling point of the record because it proves the band can be both urgent and patient.

 JANK- Versace Summer

           Jank’s debut “Awkward Pop Songs” was one of the funnest, most bizarre records of 2015 and it set the band on a trajectory for emo/punk domination. Their follow-up, “Versace Summer,” comes at pretty much the perfect time, as fans were due for a re-up of some of the band’s self-proclaimed “weed pop.” For the most part, the eight-song EP is the bong rip needed to maintain the sensational high that is its predecessor.

Versace Summer by JANK

           Tracks like “Grim Reefer,” “Chunks (kool enuff),” and “Alligator” are the band’s signature strain of instantaneous power pop and intricate, tempo-flipping emo punk. They’re built around these huge melodies, but the breakneck drumming and fretboard prowess surrounding them are exceptionally technical-yet stylish, not pretentious. Nearly every song on the 21-minute record is under three minutes, but the closer/title track, which nears five, provides enough room to showcase each member’s talent. The busky intro on that cut features insane drumming and some really noodly bass/guitar chemistry without ever losing the innate light-heartedness that makes Jank so appealing.

           Given that this is only their second release it wasn’t imperative for them to expand on their sound all that much. However, the experimentations they do attempt don’t always resonate all that well. “Ralph” is a cute concept but the execution is uninspiring and almost feels like a sappy Knuckle Puck song. “Gucci Spring” is the clearly intentional outlier, but it’s nowhere near as goofy and creative as the “Hat Store” or “Loading Screen,” which both worked peculiarly well on their debut. 

           “Versace Summer” is by no means a regression, it’s just not quite as savory as their debut. Regardless, new Jank is always welcome and there’s plenty here to keep us lifted until their impending sophomore LP.

 Bellows- “Orange Juice” and “Thick Skin”

           Before these two singles I had never actually listened to Bellows. However, now their upcoming third LP is my most anticipated release of the fall. “Orange Juice” and “Thick Skin” are two of the strangest pop songs I’ve ever heard, mostly because they utilize a musical element that I’d never expect to enjoy: shamelessly auto-tuned vocals. Sam Ray toyed with that on Teen Suicide’s magnum opus “It’s the Big Joyous Celebration, Let’s Stir the Honeypot,” but songwriter Oliver Kalb goes all-out on these tracks and absolutely nails it.

Fist & Palm by Bellows

           “Orange Juice” avoids the verse-chorus-verse formula by cleverly slipping the hook into the beginning of each of the three verses. “Drinking orange juice from a tonic water bottle/I hate the way I always lose my cool,” he croons over moody, electro-pop production. To me, the lyrics channel the stream of thoughts that zip through my head as I begin zoning out at a live show. “At the Palisades, with the tonic water bottle/the second band is saying that they’re through.” It’s a mix of mindless observations and introspective thinking-similar to the types of inner dialogues one has in white noise settings like the shower.

           “Thick Skin” is much grander with its approach. The high-flying synths pluck along to the earworm melody and wouldn’t sound out of place in an Owl City song (not in a bad way, I promise). The chorus, “I’ve grown so thick-skinned lately/but I wanna cry,” is simple and almost cheesy at face value, but it’s unfairly catchy and begs to be belted. Compared to Bellows’ indie- folk beginnings, these songs are a stark change of pace. Whether or not the rest of the album sounds like this, I’m beyond intrigued to hear it.  

 Happy Diving- Electric Soul Unity

           “Electric Soul Unity” is a quick assault of super fuzzy lo-fi alt rock a la Diarrhea Planet, Rozwell Kid, and of course Dinosaur Jr. Happy Diving don’t break any new ground with this release, but the 12 songs zoom by surprisingly fast, allotting no time for their fine-tuned template to run out of inherent likeability.

Electric Soul Unity by Happy Diving

           The production is especially well-done, largely because there’s very little of it. It’s got the raw, unnecessarily loud, sweaty basement feel that these tracks require. Although the vocals are almost always muddled within the raw, scratchy mix, the melodies still come through and many of the riffs are impossible not to headbang and smile along to. 

           You’d think at this point that this type of music would become trite and boring. However, bands like Happy Diving keep finding ways to rework a tried and true sound.

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           However, conventions have never been something that Alex G concerned himself with. The 22-year-old multi-instrumentalist has released six albums, three EP’s and two armfuls of singles since 2010-all of which were self-recorded in his bedroom. He hardly ever posts on social media (unlike many of his contemporaries such as Elvis Depressedly and Teen Suicide), he’s historically anxious during interviews, and his unassuming demeanor makes him easy to mistake for any twenty-something with little regard for current fashion trends.  

           Therefore, the audience shouldn’t have expected anything less (or more, rather) from his opening. It was so characteristically Alex G. Simple, yet spot-on musically, and straightforward, yet strangely captivating. Throughout the night he maintained that aura of utter fascination through not only his tight musicianship, but also his astonishingly neurotic stage presence.

           The man swayed back and forth, lifting the opposite foot off the ground with each exaggerated lean, throughout the entire set.  As he sung into the mic-which was positioned noticeably too low, requiring him to lurch forward in order to be heard-and visibly chewed gum between songs that he somehow stored in his mouth while singing, he still managed to annunciate clearly and play his guitar cleanly. The tightly packed room was easily 90 degrees and disgustingly humid, but he appeared to be comfortable in clunky, brown work boots, a pair of baggy blue jeans, a blank t-shirt, and a “dad hat” pulled tightly over his forehead that cast a shadow over the top half of his face.

          His guitar was wired through only one effect pedal, but his guitarist stood above a board’s-worth that created a multitude of wonky noises that effectively replicated and/or made-up for the many synths and keys in G’s recorded material. Those came in handy during songs like “Salt” and “Bug” from his synth-heavy, Domino Records debut “Beach Music,” as well as the song “Memory,” which features a genuinely ear-piercing shrill midway through that was done justice by the shrieky distortion.

          Along with the creative use of effects, his guitarist consistently peppered in shreddy solos that perfectly complemented G’s chord progressions. This added a sense of interpersonal chemistry to the live set that isn’t present on G’s recorded material-given that he plays every part himself. The rhythm section was impeccably tight as well, driving the songs along slightly faster and more aggressively than the recorded versions. This was best exemplified during the thumping “Kicker,” in which the bassist really drew out the first note of each measure and the drummer slammed on the cymbals in order to make it thicker, grittier, and more urgent than it is on the record.

          However, the most impressive aspect of the set was how spontaneous it was. The band was literally making up the set list as they went along and even taking screamed requests from the crowd. A large portion of the set contained songs from the fan-favorite “Trick,” such as “Forever,” “Mary,” “People,” and “So.” However, they unexpectedly played “Sarah,” “Adam,” and “Soaker,” which felt like a treat since they’re all bonus tracks from either “Trick” or 2014’s “DSU.”

TRICK by Alex G

          Although much of the set list was random and they didn’t seem interested in sequencing or slick transitions (besides the smooth segue from “Forever” to “Mary,” which was sleek as hell) the band’s choice to end with the dreamy, “Beach Music” closer “Snot” was an excellent finale to the set. The second half of the song is completely instrumental and it gave the band the opportunity to slide into a groove and drift off gracefully-contrary to the charmingly choppy beginning to the performance.

         The emotions that come with seeing your favorite artist for the first time can be overwhelming. Given your connection with the artist’s recorded music, you become inherently protective of the material-almost as if you inexplicably (and undeservedly) hold some sort of small stock in it. If it’s truly your favorite artist, you’ve been listening to their material for an extended period of time, and most likely link certain events or feelings to the music. Whatever the sentiments are that arise, you’ve developed a relationship with the artist and therefore carry a set of expectations for how you want them to sound, what you want them to play, and how you want them to appear as they perform live.

          It can be a scary feeling because there’s so much room for disappoint. However, there’s nothing more satisfying than leaving that performance with not only your expectations met, but surpassed.

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           These are a few records that I either finally got around to listening to, or had been giving myself time to soak up before I gave my thoughts on them.

           Here’s this week’s noise:

Lucy Dacus- No Burden

           I recently heard this record’s impossibly unlikeable intro track “I Don’t Wanna Be Funny Anymore” and immediately knew I needed to hear the rest. Not only is that song incredibly catchy, warm, and memorable on a sonic level, but the clever lyrical narrative in which Dacus laments about always being characterized as “the funny one” by her friends is a sentiment I’ve never heard anyone else sing about.

                However, that song is the most straightforward on the entire record, as the rest of the tracks dip and dive between soft, subdued vocals and breakout wails that come about through patient, intriguing crescendos. The most notable of these is the seven minute “Maps On A Wall” that resembles a more fine-tuned cut off of Courtney Barnett’s latest record crossed with the intro on Arcade Fire’s “Funeral.” It’s a truly beautiful display of indie rock prowess (pattering drums, churning synths, soaring vocals) that serves as both the record’s climax and the selling point for Dacus as an artist-especially considering this is only her debut.

           “No Burden” is stacked with self-aware narratives that often expose her vulnerability while simultaneously revealing her keen ability to recognize it. This makes the 20-year-old songwriter come across as wiser and more experienced than she actually is; a testament to both her skill and her potential for even more greatness.

The Avalanches- Wildflower

           Sunny, summer car rides and poolside parties still exist in 2016 just as they did in 2000 when The Avalanches released their now-legendary debut “Since I Left You,” a collection of sample-based music that’s seemingly designed for those aforementioned pastimes. Despite “Wildflower” taking 16 years to finally drop, in a way it still feels like perfect timing, as a new batch of the group’s bright, colorful, serene sounds come to us right in the heat of the summer.

                     The first real track “Because I’m Me” sets the tone for what’s to come, merging the vibrant horns and playful vocal samples they’re known for with rapped verses by Camp Lo. The group’s decision to feature so many rappers on this project has been met with mixed reception, but I think for the most part it was done real well and adds a flair of relevancy to their celebrated formula. I think that’s important considering how much electronic and sample-based music has changed since their debut, as well as how much hip hop has grown as a genre.

           The record’s lead single “Frankie Sinatra” is a bit of an outlier, given that it has more of a Gorillaz-esque vibe that doesn’t come up anywhere else on the album. However, it’s still an incredibly catchy, fun song that once again shows the group’s diversity and perhaps signifies a direction they might explore more in the future. My only real complaint is that some of the interludes and intros that are purely soundbites of background noise at a park or picnic tend to interrupt the momentum of the album without adding anything memorable or interesting musically. However, as a whole, “Wildflower” is a delightfully enjoyable listen that proves The Avalanches’ music still possess the unique quality to be fittingly played in virtually any social setting.

Nails- You Will Never Be One of Us

           By acknowledging that I was six years late to the Nails party, I probably won’t ever be one of them. That’s fine, because at least I can appreciate their new album for what it is, rather than what’s it’s not compared to their earlier releases. In short, this is one of the heaviest, angriest records I’ve ever heard. It’s a chaotic mixture of blast beats, hellish vocal assaults, and pummeling grooves that channels Pantera as much as it does Pig Destroyer. Therefore, it’s a near-perfect balance of discordance and catchiness (by metal standards), giving the record a sense of violent immediacy as well as leaving something to be savored.

                      Cuts such as the title track and “Life Is A Death Sentence” feature snarling hooks that beg to be yelled back from the edge of the pit, whereas sub-minute tracks like “Friend to All” and “Parasite” offer nothing more than pure, unfiltered rage and a galloping mosh part, respectively. Although the record begins to wear out by the 15-minute mark (which is where the previous two Nails records ended), the eight-minute closing track “They Come Crawling Back” is so epically brutal that it draws the listener back in and holds his/her attention until the last chug. Although I don’t follow heavy music like I used to, it’s comforting to know there are still bands like Nails who’re pushing the boundaries of what heavy can be.

  Washer- Here Comes Washer

           “Here Comes Washer” is a mixed bag of short, straightforward slacker rock and slightly more off-kilter, though still bare-boned indie rock. The record begins with the catchy-but-disappointing opener “Eyelids” that’s centered around a hooky bassline that pleads to breakout into crunchy guitars-but to no avail. However, the third track “Beansy” is an abrasive punk ripper that slashes through the verses before the vocals explode into a yelling recitation of, “If I’d only known, if I’d only known” before screeching to a hault.

                     It’s during songs like these (“Porky,” “Body”) that Washer sound their strongest, effortlessly tearing through infectious, lo-fi indie punk and inciting mandatory foot-tapping. However, there are moments on this record where Washer experiment that are also well-executed and promising. “Human” features a slow buildup during which the pounding drums almost make it seem like it’s going to break into a ‘90s screamo song, before suddenly transforming into choppy, amelodic indie rock a la Parquet Courts.

           Then there’re songs like “Figure Me Out” and “Group Therapy” that work some grungy leads in there as well, showcasing the band’s diversity of influences and abilities. However, it’s the devilishly catchy “Meld” that combines all of the record’s best traits into one. It’s crunchy, hooky, and lyrically self-critical, as the main line, “I’ll believe anything I tell me,” resonates as one of the record’s simplest, yet strongest. “Here Comes Washer” is far from perfect, but it shows a helluva lot of promise and there’s enough there to find more to enjoy with each listen.

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          I could’ve included so many others, so don’t think this list is all-inclusive. It’s just the best of the best...for now. 

Pup- “The Dream Is Over”

           It’s 2016 and everyone wants to talk about PUP. The Canadian quartet’s sophomore record has received rave reviews from practically every music journalism outlet in the blogosphere- and deservedly so. Whether it’s the supernatural transition between the first two tracks, the devilishly catchy “woah-oh’s” in “Sleep In The Heat,” the exploding breakdown at the end of “Familiar Patterns,” or the infectious, gang-vocal chorus of “Can’t Win,” this record is beyond saturated with punk rock prowess. Following up a debut as blistering as theirs almost seemed like an impossible task- but we should’ve known if anyone could do it, it’s PUP.

 Sioux Falls- “Rot Forever”

Rot Forever by Sioux Falls

           It’s difficult to comprehend the brilliance that is “Rot Forever.” However, it’s legitimately mindboggling to think how this is Sioux Falls’ debut album. The Portland trio developed the perfect concoction of sprawling indie rock and abrasive, stream of consciousness emo that’s spread throughout 72 gorgeous-though tastefully gritty-minutes. The band can slowly climb before breaking down into a fit (“San Francisco Earthquake”), sear quickly and dangerously (“In Case It Gets Lost”), or patiently crescendo into the sonic embodiment of their picturesque album cover (“McConaughey”). Also, the lyrics on this record are…oof. Chillingly relatable. I’m calling it right now: this record is a gem of this era.

 Car Seat Headrest- “Teens of Denial”

           Although I thought this record was incredible the first time I heard it, each successive listen (and trust me, there’s been a lot of them) leaves me picking a different track as my current favorite. Every single song on this record is incredible. Absolutely incredible. It’s a record that follows the journey of a man-or rather an aged boy-completely falling apart in the most defiant way imaginable. It also contains some of the catchiest hooks of the year, loads of great riffs, and numerous examples of ambitious songwriting (multiple tracks that surpass the 7-minute mark) that never cease to remain exciting and intriguing. Yes, Will Toledo may draw heavily from his influences, but this is the indie rock record the world needed in 2016.

 Teen Suicide- “It’s the Big Joyous Celebration, Let’s Stir the Honeypot”

           The only thing more daunting than listening to and making sense of this 26-song record is writing about it. When I first reviewed it in April I thought I had cut deep enough to absorb all that I could. I was sincerely mistaken. There’s so much going on here- both conceptually and in terms of presentation- that make “Honeypot” the most fascinating record of 2016 so far. “America” is one of the prettiest tracks I’ve ever heard, “Living Proof” is one of the most musically confusing, and “Alex” is the quintessential bedroom pop song of this era. 

            Those are just a few of the many highlights though. Every single track has a purpose, and this record is deeper than I ever expected it to be. Maybe by the end of 2016 I’ll have decoded Teen Suicide’s supposed swan song (at least under that moniker). Though I almost hope I don’t because that’s what makes it so damn captivating.

 Pinegrove- “Cardinal”

           After catching these guys in a cramped, dark basement in October 2015, I walked away knowing that I’d never see that band in a space like that again. Pinegrove have undeniably blown up since the release of “Cardinal,” which is an album that’s been virtually immune to negative criticism throughout all circles of independent rock music. It’s also an album that quite honestly didn’t fully click upon my initial listens, at least in the way some other records this year did. However, I now accredit that to the album’s thoroughness, with both its lyrics and the vast array of subtleties that make Evan Hall such a charming, appealing songwriter. Be patient with “Cardinal,” it improves with age.

 Haybaby- “Blood Harvest”

Blood Harvest by Haybaby

           “Blood Harvest” is the eeriest, genuinely chilling release I’ve heard this year. Haybaby did everything right with their follow-up to their 2015 Tiny Engines debut, taking everything great about that and making it even better. The basslines are haunting, yet so melodic, and each song builds into something louder and more abrasive. It’s such a satisfying listen. I’ve been jamming this thing consistently since it dropped and I’m still not over the rage-induced, hardcore blitz “What It Is” and the slow-burning, wail-infested closer, “Pig,” that follows. Haybaby proved themselves to be budding songwriters on this release and I’m so excited for what comes next.

 Florist- “The Birds Outside Sang”

The Birds Outside Sang by Florist

           “The Birds Outside Sang” is not only a stark juxtaposition to most of the energetic, distortion-fueled releases on this list, but to my personal library as well. This record is probably the quietest, softest album I’ve ever fallen in love with, but it’s held my attention since January, and after seeing the band perform a few weeks back, I was able to pick up a vinyl copy and experience its allure once again. These songs are hushed, sonically bare exhibitions of songwriter Emily Sprague’s recovery from both physical and mental injuries.     

            Most of the cuts are strung together with just a few synths, spoken or gently sung vocals, and intermittent guitars and percussion-moreso to create an ambience for Sprague’s poetic, tender delivery than to display any sort of musical aptitude. Though this record has been overshadowed since its release, it should not be ignored.

 Modern Baseball- “Holy Ghost”

Holy Ghost by Modern Baseball

           Although Modern Baseball were historically incapable of writing a bad song, I wasn’t in love with the first batch of singles from “Holy Ghost” and I was worried this could be their flop. Once again, I was wrong. Despite receiving mixed reviews from fans-though largely positive from critics-“Holy Ghost,” the band’s third LP and first under the band’s new, rockier direction, is pretty freakin’ great. I haven’t been drawn back to it in the way I have with other pieces of this list, but it’s comforting for me to feel like I haven’t outgrown Modern Baseball. 

          Like all great bands, they’ve grown alongside their audience and their peers, establishing themselves as one of this era of emo’s mainstays, and gaining some indie cred to boot. This is a record best served from front to back, which is exactly what the band needed at this pivotal point in their career.

 King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard- “Nonagon Infinity”

Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

           The main benefit of a mid-year list is that you’re able to plug records that you just recently discovered but see yourself falling for as the year goes on, rather than an end of the year list where your choices are essentially final. “Nonagon Infinity” is quite literally a nonstop joyride, as the record can be played as an infinite loop. Each song transitions directly into the next, not only making it difficult to identify individual songs, but also to stop listening after just a few minutes. The band effectively forces the listener to voyage through all 42 minutes of rip-roaring psychedelia, and then hopefully feel so inclined as to smash that repeat button and do it all again. Shockingly, that gimmick actually works. This is a hard record to put down.

 Mitski- “Puberty 2″

           As soon as the thick, ominous saxophone came in during “Happy”-seemingly out of nowhere-in what had, up until that point, been a quieter, brooding, almost noir-like track, I was instantly hooked. “Puberty 2” is my first real exposure to Mitski and I’m absolutely enthralled by this record. Her delivery and lyrics are equal parts commanding and vulnerable, as the 11 tracks present a mixture of emotions and musical stylings that put her in a songwriting league above her peers. 

           There’s a grand variety of instruments and synths on this record that give each song its own, distinguishing, moody vibe. Whether she’s softly crooning (“Crack Baby”), majestically crescendoing (“Your Best American Girl”), or belting desperately (“My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars”), Mitski owns her sound and is deserving of every bit of praise this record is receiving.

 Jawbreaker Reunion- “haha and then what ;)”

haha and then what ;) by Jawbreaker Reunion

           For some inexplicable reason, I decided not to include this record on this list. Then I realized that I had somehow missed Jawbreaker Reunion’s “we’re going on hiatus” post, became disheartened, and instantly vowed to include it. “haha and then what ;)” is an incredibly catchy, feisty ,fuck you of an album, and when it dropped in March I could not stop playing it. The band doesn’t bring anything groundbreaking to the table, but this record is simply everything a resilient, ‘I’m better off without you’ breakup record should be. It’s short, it’s playful, it’s sassy, it’s infectious, it’s fittingly both loud and soft, and it doesn’t give a fuck what you have to say about it. 

           Something about this record has so much charm and I’m truly saddened to hear of their hiatus. Hopefully the mighty Jawbreaker Reunion will return one day, at least long enough for me to catch them on the live circuit. I can’t die happy unless I get to scream, “I don’t care if I ever see you again/and if I do I know I won’t remember when,” back at them until my voice is gone.

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Today, we’re proud to premiere the release of a live version of one of the tracks off of that record, “Kidney Stone,” which was filmed by Joey Tobin as part of the Mango Sessions series during the band’s West Coast run last month. The video was a combination of forces between Mango Sessions and Pacific Nature TV, a DIY arts and media company based out of Orange County, California that’s dedicated to promoting underground culture.

Stream the video below via the new Pacific Nature TV channel, and check out “What’s the Score?” via Broken World Media’s ever-expanding Bandcamp catalog. 

What's The Score? by Snow Roller

Photo by Joey Tobin 

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           Adding to the label’s list of absurdly long band names (Prince Daddy & the Hyena, Posture & the Grizzly, Perspective, a Lovely Hand to Hold, and of course TWIABP) Yes Yes A Thousand Times Yes are both a mouthful to namedrop, and an earful to take in. “Not Once, Not Never” is a makeup of mathy riffs, breakneck drumming, a variety of different vocal approaches, and tasteful melodies. Really, really nice melodies-which is what ultimately sets these guys apart from other mathy emo bands.  

Not Once, Not Never by Yes Yes A Thousand Times Yes

           The first two tracks showcase the band’s proficiency with choppy, hammer-on-heavy, Snowing-style guitarwork; proving they have the chops to impress. However, they don’t overdo it with hyper-technical fretwork throughout each song, which would’ve become tiresome by the record’s halfway point. Instead, they find the perfect balance between that type of instrumentation and fuzzy, hefty power chords that give the listener time to bang his/her head and recoup in between the fast fingering.

          A great example of this is the song “Haunted Houses Are For Losers,” which is focused around a dizzying, off-kilter math riff that eventually dives into a thumping breakdown and a blast-beat crescendo. “No Cat” is an excellent display of multi-faceted riffage as well. It starts with the sort of climbing, palm-muted pattering that TWIABP mastered on “Harmlessness,” and then rips into a full-on PUP-esque riff-both in form and in tone-that’s an absolute earworm.

         In addition to the instrumentation, this record features some really interesting vocal performances as well. The main vocalist often recalls Matt Diamond of Jank-the easiest comparison to YYATTY-with their airy, layered vocals that tend to soar above the instrumentals in somewhat of a shoegazey manner. They don’t quite have the range of Diamond, but the alternations between their falsetto and their (or perhaps another bandmate’s) gravelly yelp draws heavily from the dynamic on Jank’s debut “Awkward Pop Songs.” Most everything is sang melodiously, allowing lines such as, “My shirt smells like the cigarette smoke you had in your mouth nine hours ago,” to catch the listener’s ear quickly and then remain there-which is something that many mathy emo bands struggle to accomplish, given the disorienting, unconventional nature of their music.

         The band also explores many different subgenres on this record that at times feel out of place, but are nonetheless extremely enjoyable. “Little Mice Pirouettes” features dreamy, falsetto vocals and light, indie pop percussion that recall Alex G, but the track builds like a TWIABP song. “Sucking It In” toys with grungy guitars and ditches much of the technicality for more of a “Your Favorite Weapon”-era pop punk feel. It doesn’t fit snuggly anywhere on the tracklist, but it shows the band’s versatility and reinforces that they’re not afraid to experiment.

         Like many debuts, “Not Once, Not Never” is rough around the edges. However, YYATTY take what many believe to be a stale genre and add their own, distinguishing twist to it. A band that can shred, experiment, and get stuck in your head all at once? Yes Yes A Thousand Times Yes!  

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           Here’s this week’s noise:

Modern Baseball- “Holy Ghost”

           At this point, the “emo revival” exists almost solely within the confines of SPIN, Pitchfork, The Fader, and other modern, music journalism outlets as a means to legitimize bands like The Hotelier, TWIABP, and Modern Baseball. It’s as if journalists expect their readers to be innately skeptical of an “emo” record, so they need to spend three or four paragraphs constructing an argument that both vilifies and praises the movement, in order to prove why *insert band* deserves to be recognized for their craft. It’s bullshit.

           Regardless of whether or not there is, or was, any sort of emo revival in the early 2010’s, there was certainly a surge of bands who define themselves by their honesty and sincerity, and Modern Baseball was-and are still-at the forefront of that movement. “Holy Ghost” sees the band expanding beyond their semi-acoustic, bedroom pop take on emo, by moving into a bigger, more energetic direction. “Wedding Singer” has an earworm of a lick, “Apple Cider, I Don’t Mind” features a thick bassline and a bouncy rhythm, and a good portion of the record’s second half are fast punk songs. The hooks are still there, but they seem more confident now, as if the band wrote them knowing that people will be singing along rather than hoping. Hell, the record’s closer “Just Another Face” is easily one of the catchiest in their discography-and one of their best songs as a whole.  

           However, the reason this band has come as far as they have is because they’re able to match their melodies with witty, honest, relatable lyrics. “Holy Ghost” tackles much more serious subject matter than their previous records (2014’s “You’re Gonna Miss It All” and 2012’s “Sports”) due to co-frontman Brendan Lukens’ struggles with depression, and his counterpart Jake Ewald’s frustrations as a result of constant touring. Innocent one-liners about cute girls and Twitter have been replaced with lyrics like, “Why does it take 2,000 miles for me to say I love you?,” and, “Every day is all about doing things you don’t want to do/But you’re rewarded/You get to wake up.”

           Though, the most powerful lyrics are in “Just Another Face,” which narrates Lukens’ mental illness that literally brought him to the brink of suicide. “I’m a waste of time and space/Meandering unwanted days/I don’t know how I got here,” he laments during the first verse, before crescendoing into the band’s most anthemic chorus to date-switching the narrator to Lukens’ loved ones who pledge to help him get better. “Even if you can’t see it now, we’re proud of what’s to come, and you.” It’s the most uplifting point in the album and it leaves the listener feeling hopeful for Lukens.

           Modern Baseball are doing exactly what they should be doing: they’re growing with their audience. And with that growth, comes the comfortability they feel in sharing their darkest thoughts. “Holy Ghost” doesn’t have the charm of their earlier releases, but it makes up for that with refined musicianship and a focused approach that feels like a natural progression.

 Haybaby- “Blood Harvest”

           The Brooklyn-based trio Haybaby released their debut LP “Sleepy Kids” via indie/emo powerhouse Tiny Engines last Fall. The band showed promise with their acute sense of dynamics and the uneasy, tense mood of their songs. Unfortunately, the record was inconsistent, and a good portion of the tracks failed to build into anything substantial or memorable. However, on “Blood Harvest,” they pull the best elements from their debut and combine those with an even darker, harsher delivery to create a sound unlike any other band in their scene.  

Blood Harvest by Haybaby

           Songs such as “Stupid” and “Kramer/Dreams” open with eerie basslines that teeter on the edge of a sonic precipice before throwing themselves off into crashing, distortion-filled fits. Haybaby make bass-driven songs that really toy with the loud/soft dynamic-and they’re so freakin’ good at it. Vocalist Leslie Hong lures the listener in with whispered verses, teasing them with the prospect of a musical explosion. On “Sleepy Kids,” an entire song would go by without any buildup. This not only left the listener feeling disappointed, it also chopped up the flow of the record which felt awkward.

           Every song on “Blood Harvest” develops into something grander, angrier, and more emotive, which is what makes Haybaby so exciting to listen to. They own that dynamic. Even on the pummeling, hardcore banger “What It Is”-with its legitimately frightening, demonic vocal delivery-the band sounds confident and in their element. Finally, on the closing track, “Pig,” they prove that they can drag a song out past the five-minute mark and keep it engaging. Hong’s throaty wails are truly haunting, and the droney, aggressive instrumentation has somewhat of a metallic flair to it, giving Haybaby an edge that most of their contemporaries lack.

The Hotelier- “Goodness”

           2016 seems to be the year in which “emo” bands (Modern Baseball, TWIABP, Into It. Over It.) begin crossing over into “indie” territory. This basically means that they’re withdrawing some of the melodrama, and replacing it with a more conventionally mature approach to lyricism. It also means that they’re slickening their songwriting to appeal to a wider audience, mostly post-adolescents rather than teens. The Hotelier are a prime example of this, and their third LP “Goodness” has been getting more praise from within the scene-as well as the press-than any other band of their ilk. But do they deserve it?

           In terms of lyrical depth: yes. Although I personally feel that much of “Goodness” is unnecessarily heady for the sake of being heady, that’s probably just because I prefer a more straightforward approach to lyricism. Frontperson Christian Holden is objectively quite poetic, and I’m not going to let my disinterest in his literary writing style affect my face-value judgement of the record. In fact, I think their narrative about coming across a deer in “Soft Animal” is nothing less than gorgeous, and the bittersweet tale in the fittingly titled “Opening Mail for My Grandmother” is beautifully executed.  

           That being said, I feel that this record is being vastly overrated on a sonic level. The production is pristine and I think the off-kilter drum patters on “Goodness Pt. 2” and “End of Reel” are a unique touch. Also, the soaring melodies in “Soft Animal” and “You In This Light” are some of the album’s highlights. Holden & Co. are capable of writing easily digestible, infectious hooks (they proved that on 2014’s “Home, Like No Place Is There” with “Your Deep Rest” and “In Framing”) but I feel like those are lacking on “Goodness.” Most of the record’s melodies don’t come around until the second half, and I think that most of the guitarwork is unmemorable-hindered by the absence of any real punch.

           That’s not to say that The Hotelier are lackluster musicians. “Sun” features an impressive crescendo, and the soft interludes provide a necessary intermission from the mid-paced cuts that surround them. However, I feel as if too many of these songs are the same tempo, and without any massive hooks, solos, or real experimentation instrumentally, they all begin to blend together by the halfway point.

           Despite all of that criticism, I have to remember that “Home” took about a year for it to truly grow on me. In fact, I still feel like I haven’t fully digested all that record has to offer. Therefore, I expect “Goodness” to grow on me in a similar manner, so perhaps by the end of the year I’ll feel differently about this record. For now though, I think “Goodness” deserves praise, but The Hotelier didn’t wow me with this one the way Car Seat Headrest, Teen Suicide, and Sioux Falls did.

Modern Baseball photo by Jessica Flynn 

The Hotelier photo by Kylie Shaffer 

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         However, at this point in Brand New’s career, it would be atypical of their elusive, cryptic nature to not drop their long-awaited fifth album in the middle of the night, somewhere in the (hopefully) not-too-distant future. This is a band that’s inexplicably remained relevant to an ever-expanding, dedicated audience of youths, despite not releasing a full-length in seven years and only touring sporadically. I’d wager that most of Brand New’s current fan-base didn’t even know who they were when “Daisy” came out in 2009.

        However, after a painfully long wait-including the underwhelming, cock tease single “Mene” in April 2015- it seems that Brand New are finally ready to unleash their latest to the world, and I have to say that I’m more excited than I ever thought I’d be. “I Am A Nightmare,” their latest offering, contains the catchiest melody the band’s penned since their slick, 2003 effort “Deja Entendu.”

        It’s a straightforward pop rock song, armed with a lead riff that’s an instant ear worm and a chorus that’s built for top-down, summer highway drives. This is a side of Brand New that we haven’t heard in well over a decade, given that “The Devil and God Are Raging Inside of Me” (2006) and “Daisy” (2009) saw the band veering into a much more intense, dynamically varied direction-which solidified their standing in the world of respectable rock bands.

        Less than a month ago, I-a long time Brand New fan-came to the conclusion that their “quadfecta” of records is such a brilliant display of musical growth, that they should just hang up the towel now and preserve their legacy. I wasn’t hopeful for whatever the band would put out in the future, and honestly it didn’t seem like they were either, given the grueling gap between “Daisy” and their TBA. 

        However, “I Am A Nightmare” caught my attention and held it in a way that can only be compared to the first few times I heard “Deja” and “Your Favorite Weapon.” It has that instant classic feel. Maybe this is just Brand New toying with me, baiting me with such an undeniably likeable song that I’ll once again join the mass of die-hard fans who fiend for the creation of a “quinfecta.”

       Or maybe I’m just a sucker for melody. Regardless, it’s 2016 and the world is justifiably excited about Brand New. There couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with that.

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The first chorus on the record begins with the oddly straightforward line, “You have no right to be depressed/You haven’t tried hard enough to like it,” which is channeled through an infectious melody surrounded by crunchy guitars and pounding drums. Despite initially coming across as a bold proclamation of victory — leading the listener to believe that Toledo has already conquered his demons and is now reflecting and moving forward — that line instead serves as a sobering reminder that defeating emotional insecurity is much more difficult than a sole moment of introspection. By the next track, he’s already second-guessing himself, “I don’t have the strength/I don’t have the time/I poured myself a drink/I told myself a lie,” and then acknowledging, “If I’m being honest with myself/I haven’t been honest with myself.” It’s an accuracy that is more bitter than the drinks; leaving the front man only more room to explore more of himself.

Throughout the remainder of the record, Toledo admits through a slew of deeply confessional lyrics that he feels misguided, unprepared and at times completely incapable of becoming an independent adult. In the funk-inspired “Vincent,” he talks about living in a tourist town where people only come and stay for a few days before leaving. It’s the sort of place where people seek momentary pleasure before returning to normalcy, but Toledo is stuck there; never capable of fully escaping the saccharine surroundings. This in turn makes him feel uncomfortable and out of place.“And half the time I want to go home,” he sings, securing the anxiety-driven feeling of being unable to escape his own head as one of the record’s main themes.

In the aptly titled, Courtney Barnett-esque slow burner “(Joe Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends [But Says This Isn’t a Problem],” Toledo narrates his failed attempts to soul search through psychedelics and his inability to numb himself with alcohol. “I get to know myself every weekend and I am weak,” he sings, though he elaborates on his cyclical, guilt-driven drinking episodes later in the record. This song deals more specifically with a bad trip in which Toledo becomes enlightened to the depressing state of substance usage rather than the positive transcendence and inward revelations he was hoping for. It’s a formative point in the record’s narrative because it proves that escapism isn’t going to save Toledo from the inevitable.

However, that doesn’t stop Toledo from trying his hardest to escape. On “Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales,” Toledo openly sings about the shame and guilt that comes with driving drunk, and the voice of reason in his head that tells him, “It doesn’t have to be like this.” However, it seems as if Toledo has become accustomed to the sort of intoxicated decision making that would lead him to commit an act like that, as he sings, “There’s no comfort in responsibility.”

It’s within the last four tracks that the record climaxes both lyrically and sonically (seriously, Toledo is equally competent in writing savory melodies and uber-palatable instrumental sections as he is at penning incredibly witty narratives). Beginning with “Cosmic Hero,” Toledo finally begins to accept his responsibilities. He realizes that in order to change himself for the better he has to do some things that he doesn’t want to do. “If you really wanna know yourself/It will come at the price of knowing no one else,” and then later coming to one of his most profound realizations on the record, “But if you just want it to be ok/It will never be ok.”

However, this breakthrough is only temporary. The following track, “The Ballad of Costa Concordia,” is an 11-minute epic during which Toledo absolutely implodes. The track begins with a swaying, piano-laden verse about waking up restless and angry rather than rejuvenated and satisfied like he used to feel. He then smashes any sign of hopefulness (“Maybe you think/ I’ll learn from my mistake/But not this time/It’s just gonna break me) before diving into a speak-singing breakdown of intense, manic confessions. “It was an expensive mistake,” he admits angrily, though not apologetically. He then questions all of the decisions he was supposed to make for himself, unsure as to why he was qualified to do so in the first place. Starting with the mundane, then the expectations for his age group and then finally his life as a whole. Eventually, in a swirl of keys, guitars, and quick, pitter-pattering drums, he valiantly proclaims, “I give up.”

This never-ending fear of his that he’s inevitably going to end up in “normalcy,” as just another tourist attraction in a fleeting tourist town is almost ironic by the end of this record. With such a magnificent display of well-articulated narratives and sonically gorgeous-albeit lo-fi-musicality, Toledo is pushing back that inevitable with his music. Car Seat Headrest is going to be his normalcy for the foreseeable future, which is anything but normal.

And that's what hearing this record is like. Although your mind is awake, your thoughts are hazy, ephemeral. Manically jumping between nostalgic introspections and current realizations, effortlessly linking the two but worried that you’ll forget it all in the morning. Still, you have no intention of sliding out of bed to record your thoughts so you just continue to let your brain spin, kicking yourself for the stupid mistakes you made when you were young while wondering if one day you’ll think of this as a mistake too. Uncertainty encapsulates that situation, and uncertainty is what this record is ultimately about. It’s the uncertainty of an afterlife (“God”, “I Don’t Think It’s Too Late”), the uncertainty of addiction (“The Things I Love Are Killing Me”, “Alex”) and the uncertainty of love, either with another person or with the world as a whole (“It’s Just a Pop Song”, “V.I.P.”, “Falling Out of Love With Me”)

It's the Big Joyous Celebration, Let's Stir the Honeypot by teen suicide

Frontman/songwriter Sam Ray is one of the more straightforward lyricists of our time, reciting tales of heroin addiction and severe depression over lo-fi productions in a winding and conversationalist tone that places the listener seated across the table from Ray as he speaks like an old friend. “Will we be this bored when the world ends?” he questions in “God.” “Write a love song once in a while/I swear it will make you feel so ordinary,” he says in “Devotion.”

These are lines that feel like knee jerk thoughts, unfiltered, raw and unrefined. The record is infested with these sorts of dialogues and it allows Ray to not only speak openly, but to speak personably. As many of his interviews have revealed, Ray has a dark, literal sense of humor and it bleeds profusely through this record’s lyrics. It’s the type of humor that only manifests in a person who’s experienced the lowest of lows and the highest of highs, quite literally in Ray’s case. He switches between light-hearted satire and deadpan sarcasm so quickly that it’s unnoticeable at first, leaving the listener to smile sheepishly and wonder whether he meant it as a joke.

It's the Big Joyous Celebration, Let's Stir the Honeypot by teen suicide

“My dealer bought a car now he comes over to my house/He tried to buy my car but I told him no/So he bought another car now he comes over to my house/Now I don’t’ really need my car anymore,” he says in the Alex G-esque “Long Way Down.” “Nick is sick he needs it quick/We let him fix up in the car/Catching up with my old friends/That’s what the holidays are for,” he says in “Neighborhood Drug Dealer,” which he described as one of the funniest lines on the record in an interview with The Fader. However, he’s got a more light-hearted, conventionally smarmy sense of humor as well that’s easier to pick up on. “It’s not art unless you laugh/One of these days I’m gonna laugh,” he says in “Pavement,” a song that wryly pokes fun at bands who too closely emulate their forefathers. “Do you want to come over? I’ve got three Netflix accounts/And we can watch a different show on each screen” he sings in one of the album’s highlights, “It’s Just A Pop Song.” As erratic as the album is lyrically, it’s arguably more unpredictable on a sonic level. Ray and Co. bounce between gritty, lo-fi indie pop a la Alex G and Elvis Depressedly, noisy dream pop, and psychedelic electro, among countless other tidbits pulled from all over the indie rock map.

Upon first listen, Honeypot is a mess. However, it’s an intriguing mess. Over an hour’s worth of material that spans 26 songs is a beast of a listen and trying to make sense of it all is quite a task. Regardless, this isn’t the type of record that is supposed to make sense, at least not in the conventional way. Repeated listens lead to a further appreciation of the chaos, but ultimately Ray intended to leave his audience as uncertain as he is.

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              “I wanted to be in a fun band where I played electric guitar in a fun way,” he said via email.

              Through a recommendation from his former TWIABP-mate Greg Horbal, Bussey got together with fellow University of Connecticut graduate Collin Kritz and began jamming through some of Kritz’s songs. The two simultaneously decided to relocate across the country to Portand, Oregon, which is where the jamming continued and progressed into what is now Snow Roller.

              After roughly seven months of practicing, which included drummer Nathan Tucker, who didn’t know how to play drums before joining, learning his own instrument, they began playing shows in Portland and went on to release their debut EP “Another Step In Your Career Latter” in early 2014. Now, after two years, a series of lineup changes, and a split with their Portland pals Sioux Falls, Snow Roller have unleashed their excellent debut “What’s the Score?” via none other than Broken World Media.

What's The Score? by Snow Roller

              In terms of the overall sound of the record, “What’s the Score?” doesn’t stray particularly far from the fuzzy, melodic indie rock they first introduced on “ASIYCL.” However, this time around it’s evident that more time and energy was put into the recording process and that each member upped their chops. As a result, “What’s the Score” sounds fuller and more put together, while still capturing the lo-fi raucousness of their previous material.

              “The biggest difference to me is how we went about recording the album,” said Kritz, also via email. “Instead of rushing to get a product out (ASIYCL was recording mostly in a weekend), we had someone help us record drums, and the rest was recorded in our house over the span of about four months. It took a long time, but in the end, we had an album that we created mostly by ourselves that we were proud of.”

              “It’s definitely more confident. We definitely have more of a ‘sound,’” said Bussey.

              Whereas “ASIYCL” sometimes sounded empty or pieced together, “What’s the Score” is busier, louder, and weightier, as multi-layered guitar parts injected with distortion pierce through each track in a manner obviously influenced, though not in a tiresome way, by earlier, grittier Built to Spill. Especially compared to the magnificently crisp, airy production on Bussey’s last work, TWIABP’s sprawling 2015 LP “Harmlessness,” “What’s the Score?” embraces sonic rawness and a more straightforward approach to songwriting.

              “TWIABP songs are almost always written collaboratively. Everyone has input on the structure and comes up with ideas, lyrics are written last,” said Bussey. “TWIABP doesn’t really have a consistent process, basically. Snow Roller is more, ‘here’s a song Collin wrote. Let’s make it fuckin shred.’”

              However, despite being the primary songwriter, Kritz said that the construction of this record was a collaborative process and that “everyone brought something really great and creative to the album that I never would have been able to make.”

              “Left to my own devices, this is not the album I would have made by myself, but it’s about 100 times better,” said Krtiz.

              “We wanted it to flow and leave you wanting more,” said Bussey. “Short and sweet. We joked about calling it ‘All Bangers.’”

              Although the first half seems to whiz by, side B contains some of the album’s more expansive tracks. “Living the Dreamshake” features more traditionally emo guitar parts, patiently floating between noodly instrumental sections and a chorus that grows stronger each time it comes around before crescendoing into a satisfying finale. Closer “Kar Kar Binks,” although not as tense, utilizes a similar buildup that leads into Bussey’s crowning moment of guitar prowess before the song slowly deconstructs into discordance.

              Lyrically, the record deals with isolation, distance, and self-disappointment. Kritz boldy moved from Connecticut to Portland, and trying to get by in a new city where he hardly knew anyone was understandably a lonely process. However, it’s a self-deprecating line like, “Not good enough to have no doubt/When I talk I tend to shout/’Cause I’m a piece of shit/Who never learned to quit,” in a track such as “Fritz Brickle” that really juxtaposes the fun-time solos and sing-song melodies in a way that’s quintessentially indie rock.

              “I tend to look back on relationships and situations and wish that I could have done things differently or better and I get very mad at myself,” said Krtiz. “Song writing is an outlet for that.”

Photo by Claire Gunville 

              The most shocking case of Kritz’s disappointment with himself is actually in the second track, “Same Reasons,” where he becomes discouraged by the possibility of a relationship that’s set to fail, and gives the go-ahead for that person to drunkenly drive him home. “Still throwing up/Same Reasons why I don’t feel the same way/It’s not worth it, and I’m worthless, so you can drive me home,” he sings through a shiny melody and on top of fuzz-driven guitars, masking his dark thoughts.

              “What’s the Score?” isn’t an album that was created to break down the barriers of rock music or redefine an entire genre. Nevertheless, it stretches over a series of subgenres, pulls from a vast array of influences, both old and new, and comes together as one, cohesive unit that’s a tremendous progression from what this band was doing just over two years ago. Additionally, it really couldn’t be a more perfect fit for the already-stellar Broken World catalogue, as it fuses everything the label has put out over the past year and a half into an easily digestible, 30-minutes.

              “I just wanna say, I’m proud of the record,” said Bussey. “We made it almost completely ourselves without really knowing what we’re doing. None of us are competent recording engineers whatsoever. So for being this lo-fi, scratchy, homemade thing, I think it rips.”

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               Whatever the activity may be, the building remains the same; a homely space about the size of a large living room, mostly open but bordered with cozy couches, colorful wallpaper, and hanging pieces of art. Inviting, but nothing particularly special. It’s the various communities that this place fosters that makes it memorable. One of those communities is the local DIY punk scene, and on March 12 a mix of local and regional bands conjoined to create a beautiful representation of what the Rochester scene is all about.

                BEDS, a one-man act from Massachusetts, opened the show by introducing all of his songs at once and explaining how he likes to play his whole set straight through, rather than pausing between songs as most musicians do. Compared to the full-band noisiness of the rest of the bill, BEDS’ acoustic indie-punk songs very well could’ve floundered and been forgotten. However, his army of effect pedals allowed him to loop some of his guitarwork and generate a much more dynamic, layered sound than a sole guitar would permit. There was hardly a second of silence throughout his set, as he violently stomped on his pedals at the end of each song to trigger a series of recorded conversations that served as mood-setting interludes. Upon finishing a solid rendition of The Front Bottoms’ “Flashlight,” the room returned to a sea of chatter, littered with approving head nods of his unique set.

REMITTERS by BEDS

               Geneseo natives Nappetizers followed with a collection of mid-pace power pop songs in the vain of fellow Geneseo residents Soft Cough (more on them later), except with a female vocalist. Compared to the statue-like stance of BEDS’ crowd, Nappetizers’ dancey tunes gave way to some skanking and two-stepping as the room began warming up to the change of pace. However, the band seemed to lack the savory melodies of some of their contemporaries (Diet Cig, Frankie Cosmos, Jawbreaker Reunion) to really propel their songs into earworm territory. That is until the last song, in which they belted about eating Byrne Dairy ice cream, which was a fantastic ode to Upstate New York’s finest creamery. That song in particular needs to be recorded and released immediately for repeated jamming.

The Peach Pits--Photo by Justin Chadbourne 

               However, both acts were quickly outshone by BEDS’ tourmates The Peach Pits. Their performance was scrappy, as the drum set fell apart twice and the bass amp kept resetting, and all five members appeared to be under 20 years old. Sonically, they fell somewhere in the middle of Pile (post-hardcore blended with classic rock wonkiness), Girlpool (two nasally female vocalists mostly singing in unison), and The Ramones (raw punk energy). Somehow, despite the stage malfunctions and their cacophony of a sound, The Peach Pits came off as charmingly bold, passionate, and eclectic.

Destroy Everything by The Peach Pits

               The guitarist was a nonstop orb of energy, literally jumping off the bass drum and still maintaining to play cleanly. As one vocalist stood tall and used the mic stand as support throughout most of the set, the other grasped the mic and, during one song in particular, shrieked a spitfire of inaudible lines while hunched over, red-faced. The rhythm section was visibly drenched in sweat, the bassist even going so far as to tear his shirt off shortly before the set ended. However, what was most shocking was that even with portions of songs that were full of heavy riffs, they had some real melodies that exploded through the clamor. The Peach Pits were a ball and considering how young they are, this band has some real, real potential.

              However, the night was far from over as Albany’s Jouska took the stage next, juxtaposing the grittiness of The Peach Pits with the emo-inspired, post-rock finesse of a band like The World is a Beautiful Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Die. Unlike the other bands, Jouska would begin their songs in verse/chorus form but slowly creep into an instrumental crescendo that was repeatedly satisfying, much like a Foxing or TWIABP song would be. Pulling off that sort of grandiose delivery is difficult, especially for a four-piece. Their incredibly tight rhythm section remained steady throughout the tempo changes, and vocalist/guitarist Doug Dulgarian’s maneuvering between his position at the mic and a tabletop synth machine sounded pristine. Additionally, guitarist Eric Mongonia’s footwork on his hefty pedalboard looked easy, but was obviously a product of the band’s evident dedication to rehearsal. Although not vivacious like The Peach Pits, Jouska are a fantastic live band for anyone who appreciates superb musicianship.

this kid thinks hes sick. EP by Jouska

             Closing out the night was Soft Cough, who play the type of fuzzy, smile-while-dying-in-the-inside power pop of early Built to Spill, LVL UP, or their Utica pals Comfy. Although their set was cut short due to a time cap, they were just an inherently fun band to see live and it was great to see numerous members of the audience actually singing along and bringing back the dancing. Soft Cough make music that’s designed for DIY spaces and hearing them rip through 15 minutes of their material was a perfect finale to a truly remarkable bill of young bands.

Soft Cough by Soft Cough

              I go to college in Albany, New York and I’ve recently begun actively attending as many of the DIY shows throughout the city of Albany as possible. We’re fortunate to have a variety of houses and small venues that cater to the underground punk/indie scene there and becoming part of that community has been incredibly fulfilling. So many great bands and people.

             However, I was born and raised in Rochester, New York and I’m always proud to call the 585 my home. I hadn’t been to a DIY show in Rochester in a while and I honestly didn’t know what to expect before going to this one. I’m overjoyed to see that the scene up here is thriving and that people are just as friendly, welcoming, and excited about underground music here as they are in Albany. I’m so fortunate to be able to attend all of the wonderful shows that I do and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

             At some point I may move out of this state, but I will always, always align myself with the Upstate New York DIY community.

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               As for my now obligatory mentioning of where I’m at in my Alex G odyssey, I just began binge-listening to “Rules” yesterday and I’m (no surprise here) real stoked on it. It doesn’t really deviate from his typical formula, but man do those interwoven melodies get me. The way he begins what you think is going to be a normally structured, one-line-per-bar verse, and then just stops singing and makes you hang in anticipation for a couple measures. I feel like I learn something new about songwriting every time I pay close attention to an Alex G song. I really, really fuck with that dude.

               Anyways, here’s three releases from the past few weeks that I’ve been way into.

 Sioux Falls- “Rot Forever”

               I feel like I’m not qualified enough at this time to accurately compare Sioux Falls’ brilliant, 72-minute debut to all of the ‘90s records that they’re paying homage to with it. I’ll admit that I just don’t know my roots well enough yet and I don’t want to make a lazy or inaccurate comparison. However, Stereogum’s James Rettig made a very interesting point in his review of the album when he said, “I get the sense that this is a band who connected more initially with Alex G than Elliott Smith, listened to LVL UP before making their way to Guided By Voices…it’s just how we tend to be introduced to music these days; a backwards progression.”

               I think that’s a great way of textualizing where I see myself in the trade of music discovery and I think “Rot Forever” is a perfect example of that phenomenon being put into effect. Where ‘90s forbearers hear Modest Mouse in frontman Isaac Eiger’s throaty yelp, I hear Brand New’s “Daisy.” When the indie pop choruses break out I hear The Hotelier. And when the jammy riffs and sugary “woo-ooo’s” somehow collide with ease, I can’t help but think Rozwell Kid even though Built to Spill nailed that dynamic over 20 years ago. I find the way generational differences affect musical creation, music journalism, and music consumption to be utterly fascinating.

Rot Forever by Sioux Falls

               Regardless of what you compare it to though, “Rot Forever” is a beast of an album. I can’t think of any other records that shatter the 60-minute mark and hold my interest the whole way through, but finishing this one feels effortless. I think a big part of that is Eiger’s relatively simple approach to lyricism, allowing the listener to dip in and out of thought, miss a handful of lines, and still be able to rejoin on the next track without feeling completely lost. That’s definitely important for an album of this length. But if you look closely Eiger does a great job of capturing the twenty-something experience through a blend of specific storytelling, humorous self-deprecation, and one-off thoughts that are ambiguous enough to be universally applied to the band’s target audience.

               Whether he appreciates this comparison or not, I get somewhat of a Front Bottom’s-esque vibe from his lyricism, which is a type of approach that I really admire. I’m enamored by shameless honesty. That’s why I think this snippet from the album’s eight-and-a-half-minute, penultimate track “If You Let It” is a great summation of the record: “It goes away/If you let it/Some Saturday/You’ll forget it.” Yep, that sounds about right.

Photo by Richard Gin 

Jawbreaker Reunion- “haha and then what ;)”

               I’ll be honest, I wasn’t blown away by any of Jawbreaker Reunion’s material prior to this album. There isn’t anything necessarily wrong with it but it pales in comparison to so many of the other insanely good female-fronted power-pop bands that have emerged in the past couple years. Their sophomore album “haha and then what ;)” on the other hand is currently an AOTY contender for me, and it’s only March.

               Every goddamn song on this album is impossibly catchy, witty, and fun to listen to. The grungy guitars on the slow-burning “Your X,” earworm melody of the stomping verse in “Patches,” (probably my favorite track), and the spacy, Courtney Barnett-like “Cosmos” that bursts into the highest-soaring vocal moment of the entire album are just three examples of the band’s versatility that seemed to come out of nowhere when looking at 2014’s repetitive “Lutheran Sisterhood Gun Club.”

haha and then what ;) by Jawbreaker Reunion

               The band managed to find a way to make fairly basic power-pop song structures sound new and exciting. I think a lot of that has to do with the trio,consisting of two women and a non-binary individual, sharing vocal duties, often switching vocalists between verses and harmonizing with each other. Although many of their contemporaries are fronted by women, it’s rare to find a band in this scene in which multiple women’s voices are heard singing in unison. That dynamic is proven to be incredibly satisfying on the last couple lines of the record when all three of them fervently shout, “I don’t care if I ever see you again/And If I do I know I won’t remember when.” I cannot wait to catch Jawbreaker Reunion live and shout along to these songs that were designed for a packed basement.

Photo by Manny Mares 

Turnover- “Humblest Pleasures”

               There was only one concern I had regarding Turnover’s 2015 masterpiece “Peripheral Vision.” How were they going to follow that up?

               Not even a year later, the Virginia Beach quartet has graced us with two gorgeous new tracks that continue to progress into the shoegazy, dream poppy vibe that the band introduced on “Peripheral Vision.” The A side “Humblest Pleasures” is the more upbeat of the two, feeling as if it would fit well on “PV.” It rivals the paramount “Cutting My Fingers Off" when it comes to catchiness, and the lyrical theme of coping with change is carried over from “PV” in a line like, “Why is the simplest thing the hardest?/What a thing it is to grow.”

               However, the chilled-out, but also devilishly melodic “Change Irreversible” may actually be the stronger track. The band finds a strolling tempo on this one that isn’t found on “PV,” but really works with Austin Getz’ soothing, far-off vocal approach that he’s refined even more on this release. “There’s a hunger waiting for me/Disappointment in the morning,” is a truly chilling line that he repeats with ease as the song slowly fizzles out.

               I’m always quick to mention that I’ve been a proud Turnover fan for years now and I’m ecstatic to know that they still continue to hold my interest despite my rapidly evolving taste.

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               From that description, this could be any of the thousands of bands that played in front of a live audience on the evening of March 2, 2016. Throughout the night their actions on that stage weren’t anything out of the ordinary and on paper they could’ve been mistaken for any other band. In actuality, PWR BTTM (pronounced power bottom) are unlike any other band and by the end of the set everyone in that room could’ve told you why.

               Ben Hopkins, who uses the pronouns they/them/their, was clad in a tight red dress, tube socks with multi-colored frogs on it, black tights, and black Doc Marten boots. Their face had a streak of glitter painted down their upper right jawline and purple glitter lipstick on their lips. Liv Bruce, who also uses they/them/their, was wearing light blue overalls, a pink sports bra, and a subtler red lipstick than their bandmate. They both had stylistically untamed mops of hair, although Liv’s was partially dyed blonde. Despite being just a two-piece, they commanded the stage, switching instrumental roles mid-set and providing some hilarious banter that often referenced their queerness.

  Photo by Quinn Zinkievich 

              But it’s not just that they’re queer that makes them unique. It’s that they’re so openly proud of it in a manner that’s incredibly refreshing, empowering, and admirable. It’s their unbridled willingness to be true to themselves and stand for what they believe in in a genre that always has, and continues to be dominated by straight, cisgender males. In a genre where the concept of “music with a message” has become trite, PWR BTTM found a way to not only avoid stereotypes, but to smash them.

               After their set, Hopkins and Bruce sat down in the venue’s backstage area to talk about how being queer affects the band, their fanbase, and to reflect on their career since releasing their debut album “Ugly Cherries” this past Fall.

Empire State Noise: Obviously your queer image and culture is very important to the essence of the band. But would you guys prefer to be called a “queer punk band” or a “punk band who also happen to be queer.?” How important is that distinction to you?

Hopkins: My kneejerk reaction is to say both. Being a queer punk band denotes this idea of being fetishized. Like ‘oh they’re queer punks.’ Some people see it as being lesser than. I actually take that as a badge of pride. Often in our society it’s hip, in a way, to be queer but it doesn’t feel glamorous. I started calling myself a queer punk cause it was scary to me to embrace that as a public image.

Bruce: There are queer artists who don’t label their music that way, and that’s totally fine, that’s their right to do. The reason we were interested in doing it is cause it comes through in the music whether we affix that label or not. And just by putting it there it stabs away the thing where people are afraid to say it. If we say it then no one’s gonna feel uncomfortable calling us that, cause we call us that.

Photo by Andrew Piccone 

ESN: You guys recently announced that you have a request on your tour rider for gender-neutral bathrooms to be made easily accessible for fans at each venue you play. How’s that been going since implemented?  

Bruce: It’s been really exciting to do so far and a lot of our fans have been really grateful to us for it. Not every venue can do it and when a venue can’t do it it’s complicated. We don’t want to make it seem like we should be like ‘fuck these venues even though we’re playing here’. There’s some venues that can’t do it because of laws and local ordinances. That’s the only place where we run into trouble.

ESN: What’s been your most rewarding experience that came as a result of being in PWR BTTM?

Hopkins: I wasn’t openly queer before PWR BTTM. It actually pushed me to come out of the closet and have queer experiences. The summer before we were gonna do the band I was like, ‘I’m sick of thinking about this every day, I’m just gonna do it.’ So I downloaded Grindr and started fucking boys.

Bruce: It’s been a really exciting way to connect with other queers, to travel around the country and meet queer people. I never had a lot of queer friends in New York and Boston, where I’m from. It’s a whole other thing to go to Eugene, Oregon and meet a boatload of queers.

Photo by Rufus Paisley 

ESN: Is there a message or thought that you want straight, cis males, specifically, to take from your music or live shows?

Bruce: Straight cis males are the last people on my mind when I write my music. I don’t think about them when I’m writing it. I’m writing for myself. But it is sometimes exciting when I’m writing a song and then I think of a line I can imagine someone identifying with. Those people that I imagine usually aren’t straight, cis males. If there’s anything that I want [them] to get from PWR BTTM’s music is that we’re not writing for them, but that’s okay and they’re still welcome at our shows if they’re respectful to people.

Hopkins: I don’t think we write songs for queer people. I think we do, but I don’t think we write songs for just them. I think that would be a really shitty way to make art.

ESN: You guys released “Ugly Cherries” last fall. How do you feel about the record now after having months to let it soak in? Anything you’d change?

Hopkins: It feels old. Actually it doesn’t feel old, it feels right. It feels like a perfect chronicle of that period of time. I actually listened to it the other day and was like ‘oh this feels far away from how I’m feeling right now,’ which is good because it feels like we have something to say with this new record we’re working on.

Ugly Cherries by PWR BTTM

ESN: It seems like PWR BTTM has been getting a lot of media attention over the past few months in particular. How do you guys feel about the majority of the articles that’ve been written about you? Are the writers generally channeling your thoughts well or is there something that’s getting lost in translation? Is there something you want to say that’s not getting said?

Hopkins: A good interviewer feels like a collaborator. A lot of people helped us understand our band more through interviews.

Bruce: It’s really fun when we get asked questions that make us think about our work in a way we haven’t yet. You never really know beforehand who’s gonna give you one of those magic interviews. It’s kind of fun. It’s like playing the lottery.

ESN: Tonight marks the beginning of a fairly lengthy run with Sun Club and Ra Ra Riot. Both of those bands are pretty different than the bands you guys usually play with so what are you looking to accomplish on this tour?

Hopkins: Just to be visible. To show that our audience is no different than anyone else’s audience.

Bruce: To be very openly and resolutely ourselves in front of crowds that are not the same as crowds we always play in front of. Give PWR BTTM shows to people who don’t know they’re PWR BTTM fans yet.

   Header photo by Quinn Zinkievich

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