Slipped Discs

Froth - Duress

Lacerated dashes crash pneumatic jags in effervescent post-rock shoe-gaze as, “Duress,” resets machine-pressed anomalies exploring microtonal drone-pop with tasty abrasive glazes and tart narcotic whispers coiled around stoic hypnosis. Engineered eeriness flows over Froth’s ominous somnambulists, liberating conflicted instincts tinged in methodical madness from mechanical hearts embracing industrial serenity. Froth along with Seattle heavyweights Versing play UW’s Terrace June 28th.

Palehound - Black Friday

United in jaunty indie-pop conjugation and earnest, burgeoning soul-searching, Palehound’s multi-tasking aspirations connect reflective second-guesses to thirsty curiosity where timid self-image tends tender envy with verbal caresses redressing fleshy blessings. Demonstrable confidence celebrating fragile valor through visceral descriptions hip to shared joys, the tangibly candid, “Friday,”  transforms humble, home-demo authenticity into sophisticated engagements balancing patient postmortem refrains alongside full-bodied rebuttals.

Bleached - Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough

Defiant irony twisting old-school crate-digging into cheeky wordplay, bratty challenges and revved interrogations, “Enough,” stuffs sleek struts, switchblade raves and California daydreams inside curt verse, short-fuse grooves and shook hooks. Churning out fully formed ear-worms storming beat-seized brains, party-crashing Bleached seeks reckless connections between indie-rock assaults and punk-pop perfection with flirtatious verve and flashy bombast re-mastered into exquisite day-glo retro.

Possible Humans - Everybody Split

Splintered six-string acrobatics barreling through estranged jangle as militant rhythms charge toward sordid destinations, “Split,” rips and sniffs garage-rock riffs with anxious disdain and scholarly mockery, terse head-first affronts by tough punks flexing jam-band flair. A churning whirling finely-tuned unit, Possible Humans scatter a basket packed in flashy influences, spicing up simmering opinions with live-wire pig-piles and rambling carny double-talk.

Pretend Collective - Pretend Collective

Cornered formulas morphing crackling day-tripping narratives into thoughtful yacht-rock holidays, “Pretend,” befriends memorable templates decorating electric rodeos and paisley parades in work-week secrets and slow-burning concerns. Rallying ballads dipped in hazy persuasions co-opt pop conventions and sprinkle winks among earnest coercion as the eclectic Pretend Collective sprinkles slightly sinister melancholy into time-warped stories supported by cavorting metaphors and sneaky clichés. 

Mermaidens - Look Me In The Eye

Cryptic silhouettes dancing in choreographed collapse, “Eye,” rides calculated landslides, conspiring in spiraling riff-driven narcolepsy with shadow-rock cliff-hangers roaring through murky, mascara-laden psychedelia and furious stiletto-pedaled shoegaze tracing pinpoint precision around drowsy indecision. Bubbling in subtle eruptions and dizzy indulgences, the tide-turning Mermaidens’ dynamic calamities yield surprisingly lucid moods from anxious, contagious beats, swirling minor-key revelry and cosmic pole-vaulted free-falls.

Hiss Golden Messenger - Terms of Surrender

Born from dive-bar backrooms and blue-collar bayous, Hiss Golden Messenger’s lonely indie-folk holds deep-fried asides against gritty blacksmith licks, free-range tumbleweed twang strung from barb-wired country and roots-bruised blues. Rugged hungers fed thankful banquets, “Surrender,” values valor, neighborhood labors and noble fellowship devoted to roadhouse shuffles bathed in Hammond organ and rambling self-examinations woven with hard-won truths and trust-worthy verses.

Longwave - If We Ever Live To Forever

Triumphant and forthright, wandering and despondent, ”Forever,” weathers emotional storms, disembodied indie-rock melancholy pledging edgy amendments to precipice confessions through prowling guitars, climatic choruses and head-rushed rhythms. Breathless manifestos addressed to friends, banging in subterranean strangeness, Longwave plunges desperate hungers into rattled nostalgia, leaving heartbroken heads to sort jealous dregs from shipwrecked regrets, holding wildfire trials with burnt bridges juries.

Shana Falana - Darkest Light

Possessed by Jungian thunder tunneling deep beneath primordial glories, Shana Falana champions new beginnings born from dire finality; unshackled majesty zapped in synaptic rapture twirl bare-foot shoe-gaze voyagers on tribal journeys through starlit forests. The karmic, “Darkest,” blazes in gothic mosh-pit steam-punk, dredging and shredding dream-rock prophecies while reaping intergalactic gypsy-folk with interwoven harmonies, oceanic tantrums and powerful bell-tower percussion.

Majjin Boo - Go Between

Jet-fueled power-pop dropping top-of-the-lungs math-rock onto weighty emotional cave-ins from bolstered reflex-injected explosions, Majjin Boo wrestle bereft regrets with heft and sweat; swift and dominant stalkers seeking chain lightning among machine-gun thunder. Trampoline fiends trading laser riffs fitted into start-stop blockbusters, “Between,” turn on the high beams careening over tire-squealing prog whose cruise-missile epistles launch conscious taunts for razor-sharp romps.

Electric Litany - Under A Common Sky

Pitched in cinematic syntax, airborne angst and sophisticated insurrection, “Sky,” amplifies worldly concerns into existential menace, cradling social mazes in ephemeral surrenders while snakey bass crawls through withering situations and singed synthesizers spar faraway guitars beneath throbbing prog-rock after-shocks. Lost prophets lavishing embattled compassion over vast canvases, Electric Litany’s muted battle-cries rise through glorious discourse, orchestral stretches and cancerous fantasies.

Beach Slang - The Deadbeat Bang of Heartbreak City

Brazen cantankerous boogie cooked in panting nocturnal yearning and dried in beaten string-sweetened hindsight, bittersweet beacons Beach Slang tangles, tallies and tussles; slashing crafty savagery from confident stomps and crashing open-hearted targets into eloquent melt-downs. Simmered, slashed and shaken, “City,” splits gritty pity into pithy garage-rock gestalt and honest symphonic punk prayers infused with jagged thought-bombs and pop-conscious, riff-driven bombast.

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