Slipped Discs

Trails and Ways - Own It

Elastic bop-pop run-arounds powered by exquisite riffs ricocheting off slippery innuendo, “Own,” roams beneath heavy-petting confections, catchphrase catechisms teased in dark pulsating undertones; diplomatic passions dispensing blue-eyed heartache inside quasi-disco boogie reviving sly, fly hooks with ninja intuition. Courting penthouse debutantes in cabana-boy flourishes, Trails and Ways engage lusty soft-rock hustles flushed in irresistible bedroom harmonies wrung from play-date reprobates.

Kadhja Bonet - The Visitor

A poised, melismatic acrobat, Bonet’s agile imagination sails through classic cool reaping smoldering jazz-soul bliss from gorgeous brainstorms touched in lightning-quick outbursts circling calm, patient strength. Rallying casual dalliances with lithe whispers charming luxurious assurance from bossy curiosity, “Visitor,” delivers tender ebbs from golden vocals folded over sweet tasteful licks, graceful arrangements finagling retro-hip hat-tricks washed in posh lollipop hospitality.

Kristoffer and the Harbour Heads - EX/EX

Scoffing operas taunting two-act theatrics with elastic extravaganzas, the nefarious, “Ex/Ex.” splashes social catastrophes into sinful bingeing cinematics featuring ravenous lip-smacking tragedies. Plastering gossamer-rock gossip onto randy banter through catchy New Wave soul, Kristopher and company’s saucy scorn unfurl street-parade cabaret littered in prancing fantasies; lizard-king flings with glam-pop bell-hops dissecting delectable medleys painted in broad strokes and trifling vices.

Maria Taylor - In the Next Life

Home-grown odes doting over spiritual growth, bewitching submissions enlisting lazy persuasions for flirtatious equations, “Next,” connects relished recollections to fetching speculations circled by maternal murmurs and cool, coddling coos. Set against simple, sturdy pop ideas highlighting playful warmth and tender friendship, Taylor’s rich, welcoming voice nurtures beloved coupling with sultry, colorful lullabies; savory daisy-chain play-dates dipped in swampy honky-tonk stardust.

Jordan Burchel - Vowel Sounds

An unmoored troubadour bobbing in pop-rock folklore, Burchel turns openly emotional stanzas into post-romantic mantras stashing breezy bittersweet reprieves inside waggish tragedies as jammy dynamics meander around soft-spoken poetry. Pining over hindsight’s tempting redemption while honing soul-seeking beacons with riff-lifted missiles, “Vowel,” powers searing sincerity, lobbing polished thoughts with profound lovesick deliverance covered in ragtag sadness and slowly burning yearning.

Eat the Apple - A Glimmer of Hope or Skin or Light

A daring, darling musical revue featuring punk-goth operas topped in macabre cabaret arias barging into off-Broadway ballads, “Glimmer,” dazzles in rapid costume changes applied with stylized guile. Sprung from the collective consciousness of KT Niehoff and Ivory Gray-Smith, Eat The Apple’s soundtrack to their unpredictably original 2010 project is stunning fun-house philosophy sporting dark carnal happiness from smart melodramatic radicals.

Fred Thomas - Changer

A modern chronicler with the gift for gab, Thomas’ uncommon commentaries nail contemporary life with supple wit whisked into frenetic sketches and melodic observations crammed inside ambling tangents. Offering heavenly synth instrumentals and rabid minstrel binges, “Changer,” ranges from solemn indie-rock to sly punk-pop for a petulant session compiling vital DIY spunk from shredded op-eds, savvy caveats and peanut-gallery rallies.

Mark Eitzel - Hey Mr. Ferryman

Elegant exercises whose effortless lyricism cruises through lush chords into electric solos with sophistication, grace and finesse, “Ferryman,” basks in emotional grandeur cultivating introspective reflections within romantic abandon. An unguarded bard turned aloof crooner, Eitzel alongside producer Bernard Butler distill despondent correspondence from consoling souls slow-dancing to stolen hopes and sumptuous despair; earthly mercies stirring transcendental penance with monumental tenderness.

Allison Crutchfield - Tourist In This Town

Sweetened in synths and reinforced by lean, muscular percussion, “Tourist,” empowers and devours with life-affirming urgency, plunging into epic alt-rock with beguiling folk-pop honesty, confronting psychological obstacles in uninhibited descriptions and first-person certainty, Branded in animated hindsight, unapologetic conjecture and level-headed revelations Crutchfield’s enlarged heart reveals a restless edginess that takes no prisoners while liberating desperate efforts with infectious messages.

Tim Cohen - Luck Man

Warm and fuzzy wonder washes over Cohen’s cozy notions, trippy sympathies and jocular journeys, elevating quasi-narcotic concoctions from hippie-dipped simplicity to epic medicine for psilocybin sentimentalists. Narrative clarity surrounding whimsical kismet propel, “Luck,” constructing a rich, ramshackle tapestry from home-grown pop-rock options whose welcoming tones and elemental metaphors navigate uncertain times with winsome wisdom captured in shining pearls of self-assurance.

Crushed Stars - Displaced Sleepers

Rainy-day tranquility steeped in soft-spoken elegance, “Sleepers,” keeps secret dreams shrouded in patient, complacent guitars, jazz-brushed percussion and swaying bass. Slow, suggestive solos from liquid synths drip beneath cymbal-less rhythms while gossamer flotsam flounders and lounges extracting existential penance from lost romantics. A quivering equilibrium between mild-mannered melancholy and candle-lit bitterness, Crushed Stars’ beautifully mired mirages disappear into twilight hindsight. 

Los Campensinos! - Sick Scenes

Charging into civil frays rinsed in slippery wit, poet-soldiers Los Campensinos’ clever dismembered indie-pop memoirs brew effusive mulligan stews. Ladling beat-driven battle-cries into polysyllabic analysis, “Scenes,” reconvenes riot-act culture-wars with unruly punk execution and breathless intrepid reflections while lyrical volleys pitched to educated punks and literate misfits engage name-dropping brains and gyrate bohemian bodies for pro-active chitchat from socio-political riffraff.

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