Slipped Discs

Chaz Bundicks Meets the Mattson 2 - Star Stuff

The ever-inquisitive Toro Y Moi unites with the telekinetic Mattson Twins for a flashy astral-jacked collaboration whipped in old-school jazz-funk blow-outs and cosmic conquistador-rock symphonies.  A feel-good goulash whose heady segues cite chain-lightning psychedelics while quoting Motown, “Star,” jams in flammable high-five space-jive, fusing weepy wah-wah, nimble rhythms and pliable bass into swinging bell-bottom epiphanies perfect for super-charged intergalactic get-downs.

San Fermin - Belong

Energetic connections tie lavish imaginations to theatrical passion as cavalier art-pop maestros San Fermin bring stately elation to level-headed revelry, balancing talented hindsight against luxurious urgency. Cultivating tasty mayhem through polyphonic tectonics, “Belong,” fawns over sophisticated cadence, fusing varnished harmonies among orchestrated trills and nimble drum-fills, creating a sumptuous, melodic cocktail bubbling in sly pride, restless meditations and honest wonder.

Blaenavon - That’s Your Lot

Rich, melodramatic catalysts catapult spiraling pile-drivers spun from indie-rock waltzes trimmed in delicate affections; “Lot,” rides emotional tides whose unguarded martyrdom erupts in tough bluster before regaining load-bearing composure.  Heart-broken ballads straddling glorious six-string introspection shelter dashed hopes and bold soapbox confessions while Blaenavon’s strong, agile mastery of tangled pains and double-fisted resistance juggles fevered soliloquies born from sensitive redemption.

Maximo Park - Risk to Exist

Deploying fidgety syncopations glibly pivoting around anxious bass, skid-marked guitar and panicky percussion, Maximo Park’s snarky remarks spark savvy rallies, conjuring tight, propulsive convulsions ripe in curt, subversive rhetoric tailor-made for post-millennial politics. Dry wit commits splendid revenge enlisting, “Exist,” in fluid moves to slip crisp incriminations inside dance-able propaganda while wiry New Wave renegades demolish through posh, swashbuckling outrage.

Cold Beat - Chaos By Invitiation

Rinsed in kinky synths programmed for cynical, clinical minimalism, “Chaos,” micro-manages galactic sadness seized in seductive electro-pop buzz and scrubbed with candy-coated vocals from moonstruck cyber-waifs. Mining ghostly tones from computer ghouls schooled in fleshy caresses, dabbling sound-lab collaborators Cold Beat unleashes fiendish dreams firing laser-guided desires via stratospheric lyrics; tempting tingling senses with machine-tooled cool engineered in space-ballad algorithms.

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.

Matthew Logan Vasquez - Does What He Wants

Dipped in trippy blues-rock chops, funky honky-tonk stomps and bittersweet synth-folk anecdotes, “Wants,” hitchhikes from heavy to heavenly, courting outlaw-gospel vaudeville supplemented by fiery bar-room choirs and sinful brimstone violins. Practiced in story-teller melancholy and paperback nostalgia, Delta Spirit’s Vasquez revise and surmise street-wise diaries defending cleansing surrender, candid abandon and belated escape. Matthew play Madison’s The Frequency May 6th.

She-Devils - She-Devils

Chiffon bombs ticking in double-edged pleasures offer scintillating lust-encrusted invitations from vixen-commissioned dream-pop laced in swirling subversions; She-Devils’ groovy girl-group subterfuge hides contagious stalker-rock dangers inside bewitching pinafore choruses. Weaving steamy seductions in waltzing subterranean sock-hops and purring black-widow pillow-talk, the duo’s self-titled debut’s brooding duels wrestle suppressed affections threatened by schizophrenic tensions into irresistible temptations deploying coy post-modern decoys.

Hollow Everdaze - Cartoons

Rockin’ cosmopolitans, over-the-moon psyche-pop crooners and fab gentlemen tripsters, Australia’s Hollow Everdaze indulges in nostalgic pageants soaked in Sixties mystery, injecting hallucinogenic benders sprinkled in continental splendor and cat-burglar nerve. Touched in lush xylophone and champagne strings, “Cartoons,” draws curious augmented chords while artful guitars melt melancholy melodies into fuzz-pedal buzz and furious indie-rock exhaustion plunges into chronic symphonic sonnets. 

The Mountain Goats - Goths

Opening momentary microcosms littered in descriptive images, semi-fictitious reminisces and surprising rhymes, “Goths,” criss-cross dreamy sax, casual lounge-jazz accents and earthly pearls plucked from teeming streams of a novelist’s consciousness. Rich, suggestive hearsay plants information-packed narratives inside episodic tunes to sow knowing poetry; The Mountain Goats coast over draughtsman characterizations in ruby-slippered elocution, undressing life’s undercover essence with semi-urgent mercy.

Fake Shark - Faux Real

Non-stop power-pop frolics in hyperbolic gimmick-rich shtick, uncorking Fake Shark’s ultra-catchy packages of spring-loaded ear-worms and hook-riddled rock-outs. From crunchy funk shot out of a cannon to auto-tuned struts flushed with cheeky pleads keen on creamy harmonies and glitch-inflicted party-rock, “Real,” squeals in wicked wit, indulging endless remedies for an audacious mental vacation booked with smarmy charm and kinetic cool.

Noga Erez - Off The Radar

Succulent grime plops dollops of basement sound-polyps atop, “Off,” to skitter in coin-roll rhythms, punching grungy gunshot-drums under flinty zip-line synths while slinky banshee samples unfold around probing split-screen vocals. From needy mediator to temptress messenger, Erez prowls through clairvoyant clamor; sending sassy trap-beat panache and solemn art-pop calm through broken post-millennial prisms focused on escape-plan precision and street-wise conviction.

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