Slipped Discs

Ultimate Painting - Green Lanes

Knicking quick-witted riffs, low-key jangle and riverside harmonies, Ultimate Painting modifies disembodied rail-yard blues skewed with baroque-folk psychedelia to rock an intricate yet relaxed catchiness infused in grassroots grooviness. Cantilevered clock-work fashioning hepcat moves inside guitar-tangled minuets, “Green,” courts contorted pastorals in deliberately nimble trips, injecting sophisticated misdirection into straight-edged pledges; back-stage jams revamped through subtle hustle rustling consolable doldrums.

Tamaryn - Cranekiss

Soaked and stoked by cybernetic ghosts, the Lilith-dipped, “Cranekiss,” whips industrial colors from tampered dance-rock fantasies for thick tantric trances planted within weightless basements; submerged urges swimming in swampy pomp. Carving lavish cavernous sounds, Tamaryn’s massive schematics attract multi-tasking catastrophes for monstrous concerts featuring shimmering quicksand romps where air-brushed songs ping-pong among parallel carousels squashing cosmic operas under mammoth canopies.

Daniel Pearson - Alone, Together

Serious lyrics imbedded in muscular country cruise through stormy prairie-rock as Pearson’s forceful, coercive indie-folk anecdotes unfold in glorious stories. Seeking compassionate gratitude in earnest mercies, the British songwriter evokes first-person struggles examining lost faith and renewed hope. The warm camp-fire welcome, “Alone,” provides rides strong, social emotions inside Good Samaritan narratives; peppering every perceptive question with several unanswerable examples.

Wand - 1000 Days

Maneuvering through psycho-groovy rock-boogie, “1000,” wows and plows around wavy amazements, constructing hippie-conscripted symphonies sifting trippy visions between grungy fuzz lunging in gurgling fury and flanged folk-jams prancing in cosmic sophistry. Exchanging zany daintiness for thunder-struck ruckus, Wand’s discombobulated sages spawn mythic misfits, whipping splendid mind-bending intentions into head-banging prog-operas where electric narcolepsy descends, bends and avenges with ragged imaginations.

Darwin Deez - Double Down

Spring-loaded goading from swinging opinions vetted in unfettered perceptions, Deez’s crisp wit flickers in shrewd hip-swiveling dissidence as cool dime-store Romeos unleash shark-like malarkey from slick tricked-out pop. Upbeat table-turning journaling backed by boss froth and chic cheek, “Double,” tumbles in snazzy songs strong on ironic homilies and catchy metaphors, slyly prying into lively reprisals while shyly driving court-jester life-lessons.

U.S. Girls - Half Free

Tectonic electronics adorned in stormy non-conformity, “Half,” wraps rattled theatrics around savage habits tuned to rebellious beat-heated jealousies. Serving dance-floor tourists throaty potions dosed in glowing incantations, U.S. Girls funnels haunted taunts into totalitarian clarions as corrosive hooks cooked with jungle cunning cavort among fiendish alt-rock arenas, bewitching trip-hop hostages caught by panoramic purgatories and bottled up inside baffling laboratories.

Telekinesis - Ad Infinitum

Lofty cottony alt-pop compositions executed in beautiful synth-driven arabesques drizzled over brittle nimble bounce, “Infinitum,” tucks supple couplets inside free-spirited travelogues, turbo-charged sing-alongs,and sad-eyed monologues. Soul-baring, pre-sequenced secrets line Telekinesis’ cyber-syncopated daze relaying pulsating cravings to carpet heart-throb sobbing in grand, amorous fantasies while poignant romantic misfortunes float over circular percolations plying earnest truths in buoyant New Wave grooves.

Low - Ones and Sixes

Eliciting exquisite admissions through deliberately slippery mystery, solemn indie-rock golems power Low’s eclipsing whispers, enlisting persistent convictions corroded in quiet dares and mounting pressure. Rationing dark, feed-backed passions within super-saturated minimalism, “Sixes,” affixes efficient high-stakes restraint to condensed intensity whose solid methodical lottery straddles crackling chaos and radiant revelation. The gloaming slow-core Minnesotans play Madison’s High Noon Saloon September 18th.

Whiskerman - Nomad

Zapped in looking-glass flash, “Nomad,” wanders wantonly with peyote-folk panache searching among turbulent skyrocket births cleansed in reckless treks for posh cosmic jaunts where woozy strings wring galactic grit from drowsy gospel-rock riffs. Rootless suitors pursuing human connections, Whiskerman’s stately faith in vagabond escapes pits triple-dipped paisley against country-fried revivals to fuel bluesy spirals sweeping symphonic cascades over cathartic harmonics.

Samson the Truest - Come Back Shane

Crooning over subdued grooves making steady headway to imaginary sanctuaries, Brooklyn songwriter Samson’s easy-going charm gently rocks fireside insights into masterfully compassionate parables, melodic solace warms character-actor narratives into slow-burning parades glazed with persuasive side-winder kindness staging hopeful folk overtures alongside uncertain soul-searching curtain-calls. Sleepy alley-cat ballads, casually balanced, low-key and inquisitive, “Shane,” frames humble bedroom ballet inside poignant orchestration.

Joe Jackson - Fast Forward

Four bands assembled in four cities, the ambitious, “Fast,” crafts ballsy philosophy from articulate cynics’ sophisticated vagrancy; romantic scamps impatiently chasing polyrhythmic pop salted in salsa, mad-dog punk drunk on Caruso and exotic rock slathered in Arabic jazz. An uncanny analyst, Jackson’s sharp-tongued fun vents universal sentiments into savvy cabaret featuring belligerent sinners, jaded saints and explosive, precocious talk-show hosts.

City and Colour - If I Should Go Before You

Bold, blue-eyed falsettos perched between deep-seated power-chord missions and smitten pop-rock exhibitions, “If,” prowls, prods and paces in earnest second-chance anthems, red-blooded love-letter confessions and sly shadow-dancing advances. Embraceable fates reflecting on heavenly redemption through riverboat blues packed with rousing thunderclap backing, CAC’s insistent vindication runs on hopped-up optimism and crackling salvation to drive past high-jacked passions into tender surrender.

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