Slipped Discs

Juana Molina - Halo

A primordial courtship between sultry synthesized slithering and limber South American rhythms, “Halo,” percolates in balmy cyber-samba calm, looping smoky jungle fugues around languid sleepwalker tangos to color galactic tapestries with eerie delirium. Soothing computer voodoo spawned from quirky circuitry, Molina’s sleek creatures oscillate between aqueous gymnastics painted in exotic polish and savvy electro-folk magic rooted in woozy spooky sensuality.

This Is The Kit - Moonshine Freeze

Imaginative patterns invoking indigenous wisdom with delicate fellowship, This Is The Kit’s beguiling style allies curlicue grooves with mythical lyrics for rhythmic rivulets delivering indie-pop ingenuity inside butterfly jigs, healing reels and sober odes. Bouncing between jazzy smack-downs amid Celtic incantations and bewitching whimsy encased in brassy art-rock cool, “Freeze,” weaves wishing-well spells around joy-infused tunes and soulful post-folk adventures.

Gogol Bordello - Seekers and Finders

Punk gumption funneled into braying horns and dervish-serviced fiddles, the defiant, strident, Gogol Bordello’s quick-pivoting Balkan-rock rains raving Spaghetti Western rampages over Bolshevik-rich mosh-pits with skulking muscle and barking espionage. Growling defcon stomps packed in Cossack cool, “Seekers,” wreak compassionate havoc with gypsy-swinging opinions inhabiting iron-willed party-tunes. Opening for Modest Mouse, the band plays Madison’s Breese Stevens Field September 30th.

Monster Rally - Flowering Jungle

Looped grooves from Cuban big-bands mash hip-dipping cha-cha-chas to Hawaiian sunsets and moon-lit cocktails as lush, revisionist kitsch bewitches an inquisitive, “Flowering,” with vintage crate-digging synchronicity. Remixing exotica with hip-hop beats, Monster Rally’s balalaikas, marimbas, slack-key guitar and congas infuse the nostalgic scavenging with lavish backing for tasty sound oases, green bygone Edens spritzed in glitchy mystery and stereophonic harmonics.

Here Lies Man - You Will Know Nothing

Chugging jungle thunder plants head-banging chants among high-strung drum-lines weighing, “Nothing,” with festival heaviness whose rich rhythms spin rattle-snake earthquakes and ravenous Saturday Afrobeat raves. A thick stomp-rock stew cooked in psychedelic underbellies, Here Lies Man construct riff-rich rituals around bluesy boogies and heavy-metal head-butts, combining power, grit and agility to scoop hallucinogenic get-downs from tribe-inspired parties celebrating iron-clad madness.

Turning Jewels Into Water - Map of Absences

Indigenous intermissions splicing dark jungle twitches into crack manufactured happenings, “Map,” uncaps globe-trotting trances ramped in cyber-industrial tribalism; pumped drum-circle glitches casting powerful incantations cut into funky, digitized reductions. Smooth-glass balderdash orbiting beyond ambient tampering, TJIW’s precisely positioned fractal catapults make remixable trips for eternally recurring contortions, future-pop art-museums beamed back to Earth in slick, rhythmic linguistics and shape-shifting kismet.

Boogarins - Sombrou Dúvida

Cyber-soupy grooves doused in water-born Diaspora saunter seaside inside heady sighs and sleepy guitars while, “Sombrou,” simmers in woozy driftwood nuance oozing casual jet-lagged jazz peppered with galactic prog-rock magic served over slow-broiled psychedelic elegance. Hypnotic astral operators, the sultry Boogarins inhabit diaphanous afternoons basking in Latin sizzle, capturing classic twilight appetites in phantom romance, sunset regrets and fickle rhythms.

Pedro Kastelijns - Som das Luzis

Zany mania tamed in psycho-samba soufflés, “Luzis,” muses in jarring cartoon lunacy, commanding gizmo-prone jabberwocky waking and shaking narcoleptic benders riding bold, dismembered tropical-pop dropped into rabbit-hole side-shows. Basted in booming bass, tasty bossa nova escapes and bouncy gaucho detours, psychedelic Brazilian Kastelijns’ lavender caverns spew groovy tunes fire-roasted and slightly singed, crispy fringe-art binges rattling cages and sparking imaginations.

Lee "Scratch" Perry - Heavy Rain

Rock-steady grooves moving beneath phantom chants, haunted harmonica and sad brass, “Rain,” rains, “Soldiers collecting souls,” and “Children of the Night,” over slippery redemption days blazing in faith served by curdling serpentine certainty. Karmic shaman Perry’s scrubbed dub companion to this year’s revelatory, “Rainford,” welcomes mothership liberations; baptized night-walker trance channeling blessed messages through loose, echo-chamber complacency and studio-proven juju.

Sir Richard Bishop - Oneiric Formulary

A renaissance man on the guitar, the adventurous Bishop flits from continents to cultures with textbook dexterity imposed on a squirrelly curiosity whose wide reach encompasses ancient sanctuaries, midnight markets and alien landscapes. A roadmap for swirling dervishes sizzling in sinister sound-pictures and tipsy gypsies reenacting immaculate bacchanalia, “Oneiric,” honors, channeling agile talent alongside an encyclopedic appreciation for international passions.

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