Nickel Creek is back. The Bluegrass-y trio first arrived in
1993 and quickly became a well-loved band. In 2007, they embarked on their “Farewell (For
Now)” tour. Now, they’ve teamed up once again for
the release of A Dotted Line.
Joe Casey is agitated. The frontman and
chief word slinger for Detroit’s Protomartyr opens the quartet’s second
full-length record, the stellar Under Color of Official Right,
with this recurring statement: “There’s just a clack in the brain now.”
One of the finest bands to emerge from
the Dayton, Ohio, music scene over the last 15 years, Lab Partners
continue to carry on Gem City’s reputation as a hot-bed for Indie Rock.
The band also has direct ties to some of the artists who helped bring
international attention to the city’s music in the first place.
There is a fair amount of evidence that
Jam/Psych bands are primarily interested in mindless noodling on a
musical bridge to nowhere, Electronic bands are satisfied to
“unce-unce-unce” on varying themes with no discernible point and Prog
bands have a tendency to disappear up their own asses with Classical
suites and Middle Earth imagery. Papadosio understands all of those
stereotypical paradigms and assiduously avoids falling prey to any of them.
Given his raspy delivery, spare acoustic
guitar accompaniment, erudite wordplay and numerous Tom Waits videos
posted on his Tumblr page, it’s easy to draw a line between Seattle
singer/songwriter Noah Gundersen and the world’s most famous boho
troubadour. Too easy, perhaps.
Sidewalk Chalk's just-released second album, Leaves, opens with a live clip in which frontdude/rapper Rico Sisney and frontlady/singer Maggie Vagle ask a crowd to shout out the Hip Hop crew's name on the count of three. It's a fitting intro, for this Chicago octet is, first and foremost, interested in interaction, about stirring minds and moving asses.
On the final night of last year’s
MidPoint Music Festival extravaganza, an old man dropped into The
Drinkery to grab a beer, catch his breath and absorb a few minutes of
Sol Cat’s soulful Psych/Dance/Pop, which had reminded him at least a
little of Walk the Moon’s similarly adrenalized output. He’d expected an
out-of-town show to be sparsely attended, which would theoretically
allow him a seat at the bar and a chance to recharge for the remainder
of the night.
The cover for The War on Drugs’ latest album, Lost in the Dream,
finds frontman Adam Granduciel looking down pensively, his fuzzy,
mop-headed silhouette semi-obscured by light flowing through a window.
The gauzy image is the perfect encapsulation of the Philadelphia band’s
brand of melancholic Psych Pop, a sound at once familiar and tough to
entirely pin down.
When Keb’ Mo’ comes to our area this weekend, he does so 10 days before the
release of his first solo recording in three years. Titled BLUESAmericana, the album’s name captures the multi-genre lines that Mo’ has crossed throughout his career.
Punk Rock covers a lot of serious, meaty
topics — individualism, anger, materialism, rebellion. But as
Guttermouth has proven, Punk Rock can also be about spitting in the face
of propriety for the sheer pleasure of it: They are reportedly banned
in Canada and have a song about a donkey sex show.
One Pilots’ fervent fan base radiates outward from their Columbus
headquarters, so it’s no surprise that the faithful showed up in full force for 2012 Bunbury Music Festival in Cincinnati like a mellow Mongol hoard.