Washed Out
Washed Out is Atlanta-based producer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Ernest Greene. Over the course of four uniquely enchanting, critically-lauded albums and an EP, the music he makes has proved both transportive and visual, each new effort inviting listeners into immersive, self-contained universes.Life of Leisure, the first Washed Out EP, set the bar for the Chillwave-era, shimmering in a warm haze of off-the-cuff Polaroids pre-IG filters. Within and Without, his full-length debut on Sub Pop, found Washed Out’s sound morphing into nocturnal, icy synth-pop and embraced provocative imagery. Paracosm is Greene’s take on psychedelia, with a full live band and kaleidoscopic light show, and saw him playing to the largest audiences of his career. The sample-heavy Mister Mellow delivered a 360 audio/visual experience, with cut-n-paste and hand-drawn animation to match the hip hop influences throughout the album.With each release, Greene has approached his evolving project with meticulous detail and a steadfast vision. With Purple Noon, his fourth album, and return to Sub Pop, he delivers the most accessible Washed Out creation to date.Links: Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook | Spotify | YouTube | Soundcloud
Homeshake
Unlike most of us, Peter Sagar — also known as HOMESHAKE — was staying at home a lot, long before the pandemic. Sagar wrote the majority of his fifth studio album, Under the Weather, in 2019, when he was going through a long, unrelenting period of sadness. “I was in a deep, deep depression,” he recalls of that time period now. “Tours were breaking me. It was awful.” Sagar and his partner were living in Montreal and while everyone was out being social, he was inside listening to ambient music, binging Star Trek, and writing songs. (Sound familiar?) “It was a bit of a dark pit,” he says. “That’s kind of what the whole album is about.”Under the Weather follows Sagar’s life and the depression that consumed him in 2019 — after a brief album intro, it jumps right into “Feel Better,” a reflection on attempting to buck up when the weather outside is grim. The album is hazy and moody, the pace slow as syrup, and from beginning to end, a fog falls over every synth and guitar line. In “Inaminit,” Sagar cancels plans when he’s feeling low; the closing track, “Tenterhooks,” sees Sagar’s deliverance into the depths of despair: “Feel myself drying up / feel myself turn into dust,” he sings over a funhouse mirror synth. “Oftentimes when you’re in a dark place, you’re supposed to journal and that helps release the pressure,” Sagar says. “For me, it always found its way into the music.”Capturing the cloudy sound of a depressive funk was no simple feat, especially in the headspace Sagar was in for over a year. For that reason, he decided to enlist his friend, Jerry Paper’s Lucas Nathan, to help with production on the record. Having Nathan contribute helped Sagar dial back some of “dry, pristine digital sound” that defined his fourth studio album, Helium, and add back personal analog touches that drew people to the HOMESHAKE project in the first place.“I didn’t realize how much I missed having a second set of ears. It’s pretty invaluable,” Sagar says. He would send all the of tracks back and forth with Nathan over the course of 2019, which made the process a longer one than he was used to. “There are a lot of things that I probably wouldn’t have done that Lucas did do. I would tend to do a lot of softening of things, a lot of making everything super bassy and gentle. Lucas was aware that sometimes you needed some punch and grit.” To Sagar, those additions made the record what it is — a melodic, honest look at personal emotional struggle.As Sagar readies it for release this September, the record he wrote about feeling isolated, alone, and despondent has begun to seem eerily prescient. “People will probably think that I made Under the Weather during or about Covid,” Sagar reflects now. “I was just already living my life that way.” For Sagar, the feelings he experienced over the course of that year are far from over — “I’ve been writing about feeling isolated my whole life,” he says — but with age, he has come to understand them better. “I had a fairly clear idea what the album was going to be like based on where I was emotionally at the time,” he says about Under the Weather. “I just try to make music that is honest about how I’m feeling.”Links: Website | Bandcamp | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook
We Were Promised Jetpacks
Since releasing 2018’s ‘The More I Sleep The Less I Dream’, We Were Promised Jetpacks’ Adam Thompson, Sean Smith and Darren Lackie have embraced change head-on. Amicably parting ways with guitarist Michael Palmer, leaving a notable empty fourth corner in their practice room, it marked a transitory moment in the band’s acclaimed career, and one that would be cemented by events to come.Entering 2020 as a trio with a handful of songs written and a small tour under their belts, the world around them came to a sudden halt. Yet despite the unquestionable hardship that the lockdown brought with it, for a band looking to rebuild following a dramatic change, it also proved to be a blessing in disguise.“I guess it ended up being a lot more collaborative between the three of us,” Sean notes of their fifth studio record, ‘Enjoy The View’. Unable to meet in person, the album began to take shape across countless files bouncing back and forth between their respective Edinburgh homes. As well as providing the space to think more broadly about their own roles in the band, isolation also allowed them to approach their collective sound in new ways.“If you’re trying to write a part when two other people are smashing their instruments it’s not the easiest thing,” Adam laughs. “Writing remotely, you could mute parts and work on things in your head. It just gave us a bit more creative freedom to try different things.” For Darren, separated from his kit, drumming became an entirely digital venture. “I could be a bit freer,” he notes, immediately backed up by his bandmates. “It was nice for Darren to have the space to try something he normally couldn’t,” Adam smiles, celebrating the opportunity for the trio to switch up their song writing process.With the space to focus on the structure of the songs over what is immediately possible in a practice room, the band shifted gears. “We’ve always considered ourselves a live band more than a studio band,” Darren notes, explaining how the past twelve months have forced a change. “This was more about focussing on making a really great album rather than thinking about how we play it live. Let’s make an album that’s just slightly different for us.”The result, ‘Enjoy The View’, is also the product of a more settled band. Fifteen years into their career, the trio are more focussed than ever. “We are doing this for ourselves and the people who like our music and get something out of it,” Adam gleams, “I’m really excited about being able to show them the new record.”“I’ve had a really nice time writing this album,” he states matter-of-factly, signalling his appreciation to his bandmates. “We’re all very appreciative of the people who are still listening to us,” Darren adds, “it pushes us to keep getting better”. Nodding to both the band and their ever-loyal fans, Adam agrees. “It is very much our band, and we do this because we can do it together.”Links: Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook
Best Coast
A note from Best Coast: We are devastated to announce that our upcoming Finally Tomorrow tour is unfortunately canceled. It was an incredibly difficult decision to make, but one that we ultimately felt was right. The last two years have been so difficult for us as a band (and the entire world) – and we appreciate your support through it all. At this time, we are not rescheduling any of these dates, as the rollercoaster of the reschedule-announcement-cancelation cycle we’ve been stuck in is incredibly exhausting (for you too I’m sure!) and we just need a moment to decompress.We love you SO much and we hope to safely see you soon. Hang in there ❤️love, bethany and bobb In 2009, I started writing songs, locked in the bedroom of my mom’s house in Burbank, no clue what I was going to do with my life. I had just dropped out of college (not the first time I had dropped out of school) and was living back in my home state of California, with no fucking idea what my life was about to become. Everyday I would write a song or two about the angst, confusion, anxiety, and existential dread I felt as an early 20-something college drop out. I would sit in that little room, on a mattress on the floor, and have what felt to me like a therapy session with my guitar and a notepad. I started sending these songs to my friend Bobb Bruno, who I’d known since I was 17, and he started sprinkling his parts on top of them.I really wish I could explain Best Coast’s story in a more profound way, but in all honesty, I can’t — because I remember so little of it. Before I knew it, we were a band with a record deal touring the world, playing on late night TV, signing peoples LP sleeves, and doing music videos with Drew Barrymore. The majority of the time that my band was taking off, I was stuck in a dark daze. My romantic relationship was a topic of conversation, my cat was asked about in interviews, my drug and alcohol abuse was on public display. Everyday was like Groundhog’s Day — I was repeating the same self-destructive patterns day in an day out.We played Lollapooloza in 2011 and I literally started the set by flipping someone off in the crowd and saying, “Fuck you, we’re Best Coast.” I didn’t do that because I was some badass Joan Jett rock star. I did that because I was deeply miserable and deeply insecure about what you thought of me so I wanted you to see me as someone who didn’t give a fuck.After we finished the album cycle for California Nights, something terrifying happened to me. I felt creatively paralyzed. I couldn’t write music. For the first time in my entire life, I had nothing to say. There was so much bubbling inside of me, so many things happening, so much to process, but I couldn’t get any of it out. I didn’t leave my house. I drank wine alone on my couch. I watched every season of Vanderpump Rules available on Hulu. Trump had won the election. I was miserable and nothing was ever going to change. One day, I locked myself in my closet and I forced myself to write. It was the first time in years I was able to get something out. And out came “Everything Has Changed.” The song was like a vision of life I wished I was living. A life in which things didn’t look so foggy. A life in which I didn’t drink anymore. It wasn’t the life I was living. Not yet. But that song was prophetic. It described the life I would soon be living.Links: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | YouTube
Leif Vollebekk
New Ways is a new album by Montreal’s Leif Vollebekk, his hotly anticipated follow-up to the Polaris Prize finalist Twin Solitude. It’s a record that lives between the kick and the snare, in that instant of feeling before the backbeat.“The way that it was is the way it should be,” Vollebekk sings on “Phaedrus”—a line that’s a memory and a wish. New Ways is that too: the sound of desire in its unfolding. Two years ago, things were changing so fast, and the songwriter didn’t want to forget. “I often think of Leonard Cohen’s line, ‘I hope you’re keeping some kind of record,’” he says. “So I did.” It was like he was pretending you can compose a soundtrack to your own life (which perhaps you can).In the end, New Ways is a document of everything Vollebekk felt, the way each moment arrived and moved through him. Whereas Twin Solitude was about self-reflection, New Ways is about engaging and changing, touching and being touched. It’s a physical record, with louder and tighter grooves, and the rawest lyrics the musician has ever recorded. A portrait of beauty, desire, longing, risk, remembrance—without an instant of regret. “She’s my woman and she loved me so fine,” goes the chorus to one tune. “She’ll never be back.”“Anything that I wouldn’t ever want to tell anyone—I just put it on the record,” Vollebekk says: tenderness and violence, sex and rebirth, Plato and Julie Delpy. A story told through details—“the sun through my eyelids,” “a sign on the highway covered in rain.” The songs came fast—recorded a week here, a week there, initially just Leif and a drummer. “After each take, we’d go into the control room and listen back and see how it felt,” he says. “If it didn’t feel right we’d do it again, or switch from piano to guitar, or change the drum sound, or the microphones.” Once they got it, he’d move on. Never at rest, always in movement: 10 different tracks for 10 states of motion—each with its own pulse, drawing the listener in.There’s the heat of the night and the cool blue of morning, hints of Prince and Bill Withers, the limbo of a lover’s transatlantic flight. “Hot Tears” is all hot-blooded memory. “Apalachee Plain” is a clamorous goodbye. “I’m Not Your Lover” would be a perfect love-song were it not for its chorus—a song that lets two opposites be true at once.Links: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | YouTube
The Weather Station
Attention Patrons,Due to the increase of the Delta Variant and the danger it poses, we are writing to let you know that starting October 1st, 2021, in additional to masks, proof of vaccination will be required for all attendees of in-person performances at the ArtsCenter.This was a difficult decision to make, however given the risks that the new variant poses to the health of the community, we believe this organizational mandate is the most sensible measure for the safety of the community.Ignorance, the forthcoming album by the The Weather Station, begins enigmatically; a hissing hi hat, a stuttering drum beat. A full minute passes before the entry of Tamara Lindeman’s voice, gentle, conversational, intoning; “I never believed in the robber”. A jagged music builds, with stabbing strings, saxophone, and several layers of percussion, and the song undulates through five minutes of growing tension, seesawing between just two chords. Once again, Toronto songwriter Tamara Lindeman has remade what The Weather Station sounds like; once again, she has used the occasion of a new record to create a new sonic landscape, tailor-made to express an emotional idea. Ignorance, Lindeman’s debut for Mississippi label Fat Possum Records, is sensuous, ravishing, as hi fi a record as Lindeman has ever made, breaking into pure pop at moments, at others a dense wilderness of notes; a deeply rhythmic, deeply painful record that feels more urgent, more clear than her work ever has. On the cover, Lindeman lays in the woods, wearing a hand made suit covered in mirrors. She was struck by the compulsion to build a mirror suit on tour one summer, assembling it in a hotel room in PEI and at a friend’s place in Halifax. “I used to be an actor, now I’m a performer” she says. In those roles, she points out, she often finds herself to be the subject of projection, reflecting back the ideas and emotions of others. On the album, she sings of trying to wear the world as a kind of ill fitting, torn garment, dangerously cold; “it does not keep me warm / I cannot ever seem to fasten it” and of walking the streets in it, so disguised, so exposed. Photographed by visual artist Jeff Bierk in midday, the cover purposefully calls to mind Renaissance paintings; with rich blacks and deep colour, and an incongruous blue sky glimpsed through the trees. The title of the album, Ignorance, feels confrontational, calling to mind perhaps wilful ignorance, but Lindeman insists she meant it in a different context. In 1915 Virginia Woolfe wrote: “the future is dark, which is the best thing a future can be, I think.” Written amidst the brutal first world war, the darkness of the future connoted for Woolfe a not knowing, which by definition holds a sliver of hope; the possibility for something, somewhere, to change. In french, the verb ignorer connotes a humble, unashamed not knowing, and it is this ignorance Lindeman refers to here; the blank space at an intersection of hope and despair, a darkness that does not have to be dark. Emerging out of Toronto’s vibrant folk scene, Lindeman debuted a moody, introspective sound with her independently released East EP in 2008. Her LP The Line followed in 2009, expanding on an earthy, lyrical style, driven by her distinctive fingerpicked guitar and banjo parts. For the next Weather Station release, Lindeman worked with friend and collaborator Daniel Romano, signing with his You’ve Changed Records label to release the critically acclaimed follow-up, All of It Was Mine, in 2011. Links: Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter
Red Wanting Blue
“In every odyssey, there comes a time when you must accept that what you are pursuing is no longer a rational decision,” Scott Terry writes in the liner notes of Red Wanting Blue’s new album, ‘The Wanting.’ “It’s a choice that does not feel like a choice. It is a hunger.”It’s been more than twenty years since Red Wanting Blue first began their long, strange odyssey, and while much has changed for Terry and the rest of the band over those two remarkable decades, the hunger remains. Like the North Star, it’s fixed in the firmament, a guiding light perpetually out of reach. Hunger has been their fuel, their motivation, their essence. Hunger has steered every step of the group’s extraordinary journey, and now, it’s at the heart of their most powerful record yet.Produced by acclaimed singer/songwriter Will Hoge, ‘The Wanting’ showcases Red Wanting Blue at their finest, with Terry’s epic, heartfelt vocals soaring above the band’s gritty, driving rock and roll. Alternately triumphant and melancholic, the songs are both muscular and nuanced, equally at home blasting from a car stereo as they are drifting through a pair of headphones late on some lonely night. Though the record draws on many of the band’s traditional strengths—indelible melodies, infectious hooks, explosive performances—the making of it pushed Red Wanting Blue far outside their comfort zone and forced them to take an unprecedented, nearly year-long break from touring.“We’re a touring band,” Terry explains matter-of-factly. “We’re on the road all the time, so much so that it’s painful when we’re not. When I was younger, I used to get heart palpitations if I was in the same place for more than four days.”It’s that insatiable appetite for the road that helped Red Wanting Blue establish themselves as one of the indie world’s most enduring and self-sufficient acts. Hailed as “Midwestern rock heroes” by American Songwriter, the band has spent most of their career operating outside of the confines of the traditional music industry, earning their legion of lifelong fans through decades of relentless touring. Over the course of ten studio albums, they brought their passionate, unforgettable live show to every city and town that would have them, blazing their own distinctive trail through the American heartland as they built up the kind of fanatically dedicated audiences normally reserved for arena acts.Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | YouTube | Instagram
Gary Numan
May, 1979. It’s an ordinary Thursday evening, which means it’s time for Top of the Pops. Amidst a zeitgeist of punk and disco, the show suddenly appears to be interrupted by a transmission from the future. A luminous synth riff echoes out, a beat drives on and upsteps an otherworldly figure – part robot, part alien – to deliver an enigmatic lyric depicting some kind of android existence in a dystopian future. It’s Gary Numan fronting Tubeway Army for their breakthrough hit ‘Are ‘Friends’ Electric?’.Of the millions that are watching, few would’ve recognised that this moment foreshadows the shape of music to come, from synth-pop to industrial and alt-pop. That, however, can’t stop it igniting the imagination of an audience that would swell into a devoted following.Fast-forward to January, 2021. Numan’s latest single ‘Intruder’ pulsates ominously as if it’s soundtracking an imminent threat. As austere synths loom like shadows and industrial beats are detonated, the beguiling hook towers like a beacon in the darkness. It’s visionary and venomous, with a narrative that imagines the Earth growing angry at mankind’s actions, and more than willing to fight back. In the accompanying video, Numan looks even more out of time than he did back in 1979, like an intergalactic refugee fighting for his own existence.Those two songs show how Numan has consistently fought against the grain to stick resolutely to his creative vision. In a career that spans over forty years, the music evolves and the themes change. But fans remain fascinated by Numan for the very fact that he’s so uncompromising.Any story charting four decades will be a mixed blessing of momentous highs and meagre lows. The achievements are remarkable for someone who never made any concessions to mainstream success. Seven Top 10 singles, including ‘Are ‘Friends’ Electric?’ and the debut solo hit ‘Cars’; seven Top 10 albums, three of which topped the charts; and huge critical acclaim, most notably with the Inspiration Award at the prestigious Ivor Novellos.Naturally, there were times when Numan was very much not in vogue. Sure, there would be ripples of rediscovery but there were years when his increasingly conceptual albums were primarily embraced by hardcore fans. He wasn’t troubling the charts, but audiences were still flocking to see him perform – almost every UK tour would include a sold-out show at the 5000 capacity Hammersmith Apollo.Gradually, though, praise from Nine Inch Nails, Prince and David Bowie led to a reappraisal of his work. And that has been magnified in recent years with Kanye West, Lady Gaga and Dave Grohil citing him as an influence.And so, a new narrative emerged. An unlikely icon returned to the top while making music that was darker, fiercer and more inventive than ever.‘Splinter (Songs From A Broken Mind)’ set the ball rolling by peaking at #20 in 2013, its precise, post-industrial sound delving into Numan’s experiences with depression. He started a new deal with BMG in 2017 and released ‘Savage (Songs From A Broken World)’, an album which depicted earth as a barren wasteland in which humanity and culture had been largely crushed by the effects of global warming.Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | YouTube | Spotify | Apple Music
James McMurtry
Attention Patrons,Due to the increase of the Delta Variant and the danger it poses, we are writing to let you know that starting October 1st, 2021, in additional to masks, proof of vaccination will be required for all attendees of in-person performances at the ArtsCenter.This was a difficult decision to make, however given the risks that the new variant poses to the health of the community, we believe this organizational mandate is the most sensible measure for the safety of the community.In James McMurtry’s new effort, The Horses and the Hounds, the acclaimed songwriter backs personal narratives with effortless elegance (“Canola Fields”) and endless energy (“If It Don’t Bleed”). This first collection in seven years, due August 20 on New West Records, spotlights a seasoned tunesmith in peak form as he turns toward reflection (“Vaquero”) and revelation ( closer “Blackberry Winter”). Familiar foundations guide the journey. “There’s a definite Los Angeles vibe to this record,” McMurtry says. “The ghost of Warren Zevon seems to be stomping around among the guitar tracks. Don’t know how he got in there. He never signed on for work for hire.”The Horses and the Hounds is a reunion of sorts. McMurtry recorded the new album with legendary producer Ross Hogarth (John Fogerty, Van Halen, Keb’ Mo’) at Jackson Browne’s Groovemaster’s in Santa Monica, California, a world class studio that has housed such legends as Bob Dylan (2012’s Tempest) and David Crosby (2016’s Lighthouse) as well as Browne himself for I’m Alive (1993) and New Found Glory, Coming Home (2006). McMurtry and Hogarth first worked together 30 years ago, when Hogarth was a recording engineer in the employ of John Mellencamp at Mellencamp’s own Belmont Studios near Bloomington, Indiana. Hogarth recorded McMurtry’s first two albums, Too Long in the Wasteland and Candyland, for Columbia Records and later mixed McMurtry’s first self-produced album, Saint Mary of the Woods, for Sugar Hill Records. Another veteran of those three releases, guitarist David Grissom (Joe Ely, John Mellencamp, Dixie Chicks), returns with some of his finest work.Accordingly, the new collection marks another upward trajectory: The Horses and the Hounds will be McMurtry’s debut album on genre-defining Americana record label New West Records (Steve Earle, Rodney Crowell, Lucinda Williams, John Hiatt, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Buddy Miller, dozens more).“I first became aware of James McMurtry’s formidable songwriting prowess while working at Bug Music Publishing in the ’90s,” says New West president John Allen. “He’s a true talent. All of us at New West are excited at the prospect of championing the next phase of James’ already successful and respected career.” McMurtry perfectly fits a label housing “artists who perform real music for real people.” After all, No Depression says of the literate songwriter’s most recent collection, Complicated Game: “Lyrically, the album is wise and adventurous, with McMurtry — who’s not prone to autobiographical tales — credibly inhabiting characters from all walks of life.” “[McMurtry] fuses wry, literate observations about the world with the snarl of barroom rock,” National Public Radio says. “The result is at times sardonic, subversive and funny, but often vulnerable and always poignant.”Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter
Black Midi
No second album syndrome and no sophomore slump for Britain’s most exciting and challenging young rock band. black midi’s follow up to Schlagenheim is a dynamic, hellacious, inventive success. Cavalcade, their second studio album for Rough Trade, scales beautiful new heights, reaching ever upwards from an already lofty base of early achievements.The meaning of the word cavalcade is a procession of people, such as a royal parade, and black midi picture their new album as a line of larger than life figures – from a cult leader fallen on hard times and an ancient corpse found in a diamond mine to legendary cabaret singer Marlene Dietrich – strolling seductively past them. The album art – again, another intricate collage created by David Rudnick – brings this idea colourfully to life, drawing the listener inexorably into this mysterious world, reinforcing the idea that Cavalcade is a glorious collection of stories just waiting to be dived into.Geordie Greep, the band’s mercurial guitarist and primary singer explains the fundamentals of Cavalcade: “A big thing on this album is the emphasis on third person stories, and theatrical ones at that.” Cameron Picton, the inventive bassist and occasional singer agrees: “When you’re listening to the album you can almost imagine all the characters form a sort of cavalcade. Each tells their story one by one and as each track ends they overtake you, replaced by the next in line.” Morgan Simpson, the powerhouse drummer advises: “Enjoy it, live with it, spend some time living in it.” When pressed to choose one word to describe the album, Geordie elects for “drama” adding: “The emphasis when we were making and sequencing Cavalcade was to make music that was as dramatic and as exciting as possible. The flow has the feel of a story, which is rewarding to listen to.”But the record is dynamic in its musical ambition above all else. black midi listen widely and deeply not just to rock and jazz but to hip hop, electronic dance music, classical, ambient, prog, experimental… And their ethos is simple according to Geordie: “We just combine lessons learned from all of this music to make something that’s very interesting to listen to and something that is brand new.” They are quick to bat away any suggestion that it’s a risky strategy drawing from such a wide source of influences, that the resultant eclectic mix of influences could produce something resembling a mad man’s breakfast. Geordie says simply: “If you worry about that before you start you’re limiting yourself. You have to try because you could either end up with a madman’s breakfast or you could end up with a fantastic kaleidoscope and the only way to find out which one it’s going to be is to try. If you fail, so what? Try again.”Ground was broken on Cavalcade in those now weird seeming pre-pandemic days of 2019. Songs that had been brewing since the release of Schlagenheim in July began muscling their way onto set lists and finally became individual entities by October, getting refined in between an extensive world tour and a scorching turn at the Mercury Prize ceremony. Early in 2020, the fourth member of black midi from the original line up, guitarist/vocalist Matt Kwasniewski- Kelvin, told the other three that he needed some time away from the group due to problems with his mental health. They went on to play several live dates as a trio augmented by saxophonist Kaidi Akinnibi and keyboard player Seth Evans. This hook up felt right and the pair feature prominently on Cavalcade.Links: Website | Facebook | Instagram
