Slipped Discs

Raveonettes - Raven in the Grave

Seductive juxtapositions churn bright, blinding riffs from velvety, fuzz-pop melt-downs. Skulking miasmas of scathing, blazing reverb, “Grave,” cultivates dangerous conveyance around heavenly self-possession. Pretty punk defiance abducting prom-dress pledges, pressing crepe-paper hearts between dream-pirate menace dipped in coy, corrosive curtseys and proudly shrouded pastels dressed in rain-gray attitude. The Raveonettes’ fierce, mascara-rimmed melancholy molds vertigo-riddled Valentines into steel-plated, corrugated cool.

Release the Sunbird - Come Back to Us

Humble wonders, wistful intimacy and folksy tranquility highlight Rogue Wave front-man Zach Rogue’s new side-project. Friendly genuine vibes and idyllic upbeat rides, RTS’s unencumbered takes and minimal overdubs conjure sweet, unimpeded camaraderie within discrete, unassuming synergy. Effervescent messages bounce beside bright, pastoral chords from tight, tasty guitars and glazed, syncopated keys, “Come,” shines over softly-spoken joys infiltrating bucolic alt-pop ballads. RTS play Madison’s East Side Club August 25th.

Carina Round - Tigermending

A shape-shifting feng shui diva, ably conveying threatening temptress and demure insurgent, Round releases predatory stories elaborating sweet, sinister opinions behind grinding electro-pop and doe-eyed art-rock. Divided hearts and conflicting instincts coyly uncoil dancing hammers inside gossamer possibilities as “Tigermending,” morphs into damned glam, mad theatrics and avenging epiphanies, deliciously assisted by imagineers Brian Eno, Billy Corgan and Dave Stewart

Caitlin Rose - The Stand-In

Smart and sassy songbird Rose hands hard truths in tasty occasions and wry asides. Rockin’ cocktail pop salted in modesty and brimming in wisdom lasso sumptuous country wonders. Muscular slide sidled alongside sweet, uplifting strings and tuneful tales regale as; “Stand-In,” stands tall in thoughtful propositions, kind reminders carrying poetic medicine guaranteed to rouse tarnished hearts and soothe calico souls.

Alice Russell - To Dust

Blissfully irresistible, Russell’s unruffled soul-sister muscle flexes arresting home-wrecker directness and brassy Motown sass in bristling polyrhythmic precision. Britain’s bossy blonde’s frisky delivery, peek-a-boo grooves and beat-driven shimmies fuse funky feminist chemistry into foxy gospel, glossy pop and supersonic doo-wop. No-nonsense admonishments beneath post-modern sentiments, the seductive, percussive, “Dust,” struts sizzling syncopation around fiery high-heel hustles and cool rerouted voodoo.

RocketNumberNine - MeWeYouWe

Sputtering drums and space-ghost synths dip and skip between unraveling rattlings knitting explosive, propulsive patterns, Rocket9’s tunneling industrial cunning provides Memphis-tendered bottom to the duo’s roasted robotic-toppings for a shuffling gumbo packed in squeaky tweaks and embroidered beats. Tightly-fitted digital twiddling, “MeWeYouWe,” parades in waves of splashy crashes and astro-dipped rip-tides; fluttering brushes of blushing percussion tailor-made for nuclear-powered dance-floors.

Raccoon Fighter - ZIL

A raucous caucus of secret-agent cool, lusty hustles and rock-blizzard boogie, RF slug and chug brazen side-street mayhem atop gloriously predatory choruses and scowling, prowling verses. Ravenous good-time pageants fashioning fuss-free struts, monster stomps and cathartic parties, the Brooklyn trio’s, “ZIL,” dives head-first into fiery low-rider pile-drivers; scorching fortresses whose take no prisoner sizzle ignites explosive doses of scenery-chewing cruises.

Run Boy Run - Something to Someone

A jaw-dropping combination of Gaelic bluegrass and mountaintop chamber-folk the Arizona quintet’s fiddles, mandolins, cello, bass and guitars borrow from history-rich traditions to foster a scholarly hodgepodge underwritten in moonshine and molasses. Led by strong female harmonies and nimble pickin’, “Something,” skips past rootsy troubadours to branch into torch-song confidants sauntering in enchanting shanties, worldly-wise Americana and twinkling Texas swing.

Rey Pila - The Future Sugar

Moving to manicured stammers from mid-eighties samples poured over sporty choruses braised in underbelly glamour, Rey Pila’s brisk, fidgety New Wave funk spaces out and gets down with riff-pitched boogie. A refreshing exodus despite years in studio limbo, the slinky, “Sugar,” cannot sit still; muscular party-pop hustles roar while sinister alt-rock come-ons board bullet-train dancehalls, space-station nightclubs and black-market happy-hours.

Robbing Millions - Robbing Millions

Quick-pivoting time signatures capture left-brain quatrains in micro-encapsulated packages mapping Robbing Millions’ sharp, intriguing seizures onto art-prog dream-pop. Scoring shiny choruses with savvy calibrations, the Belgian quintet’s supple self-titled tidal-wave blazes through succinct tiddlywink sprints out-thinking dance-rock street-smarts with unglued jazz fusions while dramatic catapults discharging syncopated counterpoint dissect clever pleasures with telekinetic intellect inventing bendable dimensions beneath sizzling juxtaposition.

R. Ring - Ignite the Rest

Authentic, contentious, veering from reckless and tempestuous to direct and defenseless, the debut album from The Breeder’s Kelley Deal and Ampline’s Mike Montgomery overflows in raw, real feeling, plucking sublime ruckus from serrated impatience and surly curiosity. Spellbound thought-bombs launched from electric strings bent in relentless invention, “Ignite,” tussles in barbed garage-rock muscle injecting eccentric chemistry into classic indie spasms.

Tom Rogerson with Brian Eno - Finding Shore

The tranquil migrations surrounding, “Shore,” layer wayward raids over methodical odysseys; a gaggle of tadpole wiggles seeking leap-frogging cosmic frequencies through exploratory detours massaging delicate tensions.  Pondering wand-waving improvisations, Rogerson’s instrumental solos split into prismatic passages beneath Eno’s manipulating minimalist impulses as one’s ideas grow into another’s paint-box playground where multi-colored themes blissfully drip on planetary canvases in swarming non-conformity.

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