Slipped Discs

Beyond the Wizard's Sleeve - The Soft Bounce

Coiled embroidered matrixes constructed from phlanged patchouli-fueled fantasies sandwiched among acid-blasted detours and paisley-flavored jams, “Bounce,” renounces earth-bound reality, pitching cross-stitched instruments zipped in ultra-hip lysergic grooviness. Eclectic adventurers launching jet-propelled mind-trips around starry collages, BTWS’ enlightened titans stir paranormal storms formed around surreal feelings as celestial sirens call out in day-glo mojo to cosmic sailors lost in scorched rainbow-rock.

Heliotropes - Over There That Way

Girl-group gloom meets indie-rock pillow-talk via collegiate beach-party harlots sparking surf-twang bangers for disconnected intellects; Heliotropes’ co-ed dread spreads weighty vagueness over bittersweet ennui as suspicious kisses swollen in swan-song bygones swallow existential squalor. Born from cross-hair glares floundering in pale beauty, “Over,” smolders with melancholy melodies wrung from deep, dark jangle then dipped in misfit grit and romantic pandering.

Soldier's Heart - Night By Night

Nocturnal journals inscribed by swirling electro-pop dervishes, “Night,” ignites kittenish whispers into kinky air-brushed struts cut from fitful glitches, slick precision rhythms and souped-up loops. Playing it cool and staying in control, Belgium’s sweltering Soldier’s Heart entices curious tourists with beat-driven sins skimming heavenly confessions, luring demure cures from slinky midnight binges while extracting sensual unmentionables from stainless dance-friendly arrangements.

Bright Light Bright Light - Choreography

Graceful and tasteful, BLx2’s unbridled pizzazz packs ravenous flash into immaculate panache for irresistible show-biz glitz sizzling in stacked brass, sizeable choirs and imploring power-pop choruses. A gallant, star-studded extravaganza balancing pretty intimacy against rumbling hungers, “Choreography,” suggests obsessive connections through fatal attractions and hopeful devotions pitching passionate ballroom blitzes gripped in polished dollops following ravenous riffs circling heart-throbbing bliss.

Wild Beasts - Boy King

Pumped presumption guiding fuel-injected conjecture into slinky robo-rhythms while pitch-controlled future-soul vamps in slamming glam-rock boogie, “Boy.” runs unencumbered over untapped appetites; lean, mounting hungers velvet-crushing super-model seductions. Prowling downtown labyrinths soliciting illicit decisions, Wild Beasts’ oiled poise rides sonic stallions through moody synthesized grooves shaded in midnight dangers, reaping tense suspense through stylish vibes, gurgling purrs and post-carnal calm.

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.

Slow Club - One Day All of This Won’t Matter Anymore

Poignant, patient conversations negotiating bittersweet treaties, British multi-instrumentalists Slow Club subtly shifts between self-reflective messages rinsed in bubble-bath ballads and third-person uncertainties poured over sympathetic second-guesses. A restorative indulgence tossing slick licks among passive indie-pop and wary sincerity hidden in modern folk-rock, “One Day,” nurtures cozy vocals polished in chrome diplomacy, primed in well-timed kindness and settled in intelligent perspective.

Flock of Dimes - If You See Me Say Yes

Rooted in soft, buttery coos spread over glitzy, pedal-box loops, “Yes,” chirps, shimmies and percolates; angel-arranged choirs concocting modern comedies whose tender surrenders on rainbow-covered dance-floors capture deeper meanings among inescapable feelings. Zapped in dizzying inspirations, Wye Oak’s Jenn Wasner’s side-project’s spring-board chords, careening sequences and braided cascades spew cellophane daisy-chains lining daring designs with thrilling frills and sensitive revelations

Bellows - Fist and Palm

Jaw-dropping synth-pop clock-work stacked in steady resonating harmonies and symphonic chamber-rock arrangements, Bellows’ pouncing counterpoint woo dancing enchantments into thunderstruck teardrops crying turbo-charged lullabies in water-bed head-trips. An inviting sheen laid over sophisticated mayhem producing an invigorating stage for heavenly tension, “Fist,” shifts between ambitious mischief and promising competence, juggling smug tribal vibes alongside rhythmic pirouettes and calm melodic tonics.

Agnes Obel - Citizen of Glass

Giving way to creative play inside courtly orchestrations, Obel’s spellbinding compositions refine micro-cosmic operas; teased glee pondering haunted sonnets while cultivated impulsiveness hide behind lofty subplots.  Feng shui dreams executed in soft Viennese elegance bending tender melancholy around fleeting boutique-pop, “Glass,” waxes with sensual specters donning sylvan slippers as scattered pageants gathered under luminous moons skim and swim on hummingbird-wings.

Weyes Blood - Front Row Seat to Earth

Prairie-ferried whirlwinds stirred into blossoming choirs where unconditional innocence sits on baroque-pop foundations; “Front,” glows in dawn-drenched fogs rising behind drumless strums under wayfarer prayers and languishing organ chords half-asleep in delicately measured swells. Anchored in Weyes Blood’s brave, angelic voice, hushed crusades blanket the senses in breathless ecstasy, gossamer phosphorescence mounted in matriarchal sparkle shining in divine silver linings.

Joan As Policewoman w/ Benjamin Lazar Davis - Let It Be You

The slightly sinister mechanics behind multi-instrumentalist Davis’ winding, grinding New Wave art-rock collaboration with the multi-tasking Wasser brews gritty elixirs in double-battered R&B caresses. Creating moody futures from intelligent sentiments, the bewitching, “Let,” moves through beautiful incongruities; motorized techno-rock rosaries listing rhythmic sins under electro-funky love-songs, brash flash-ballads groovin’ to home-studio show-tunes and transistorized alley-cat theatrics padding about kittenish manipulations.

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