Slipped Discs

Geoffrey O'Connor - Vanity is Forever

Crayon Fields singer’s plastic nostalgia buoys stately sustains and ominous bass, concocting frosty melancholy tossed over sophisticated chords and clinical beats for eighties soul-searching encased in faced facts, romantic traps and lapsed compacts. “Vanity,” uncannily channels overheated libidos by playing it cool; mod Aussie shoe-gaze smothered in shiny sounds and tragically poignant perceptions. O’Connor plays Chicago’s Lincoln Hall October 3rd

Nikki Lane - Walk of Shame

Hard-hitting honky-tonk harnesses faraway wails and unflinching farewells, coasting home in tear-soaked commotion, timeless codependent tension burning bright beneath a sea of twang and reverb. “Shame,” tames coyote kiss-offs, hopping from swinging barroom bop to stoic alt-country romps. Nikki’s concrete cow-punk pairs sassy Southern gumption alongside I told you so odes, tipping a ten-gallon to reckless youth and restless penance.

Luke Temple - Don’t Act Like You Don’t Care

Folksy consoling grooves caressed in essential sentiments, the Here We Go Magic mastermind turns gurgling turmoil into upbeat Talmudic jamborees. Nestling old-fashioned passions, “Don’t Act,” frames love-pangs against organic harmonics and honest optimism, bending tender amends into lively unguarded pardons through layered nuance. Wavering between humble and grand, Temple’s intimate minimalism, scores fleeting, deeply textured tunes from faint, dainty serenades. Luke plays Chicago’s Lincoln Hall October 18th with CANT.

The Kooks - Junk of the Heart

Effortless Britpop perfection transforms trusted structures into sweet, savvy, alchemical delights, Two years in the making, “Junk,” mines bouncy countenance through space-age minstrels extolling earth-bound ballads. Hugging the beat around propulsive hooks soaring in choruses and immersed in flirty verse, The Kooks’ nicked riffs and sizzling sonic comments mix flippant misfits within sumptuous salads producing tuneful larks beside feather-weight heartache

Host Skull - Totally Fatalist

Collaborating multi-instrumentalists concoct bristling hybrids plucked from tasty alt-pop influences. Thoughtful interlocking improvisations underline frolicking prog-pop playfulness haunted by jazzy contractions and mathematical happiness, “Fatalist,” yields exquisite eloquence from its sunny blues and clever new wave strategies employing artful brass and woodwinds.  Flipping from spastic to placid, HS’s skewed cool fuels back-lit mischief through cinematic poise and charming chromatic acrobatics..

St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

Cool, ghoulish guitars unraveling ripped runs from walloping chops and funky grunts against vivid synths and livid delivery, “Mercy,” serves gilded memories over liberated librettos packing punches inside tweaked dreams covered in pleasing pandemonium. St. Vincent’s discerning yearnings burst in sharp turns and wide-eyed surprises, melodramatic maneuvers proving irresistible crucibles for smoldering treasures. Catch her conquering Milwaukee’s Pabst October 3rd

Scott H. Biram - Bad Ingredients

Raw, rambling laments and roaring, storming bulletproof blues turn what often is Biram and one guitar into a cut-throat road-house smack-down. Tinderbox tempests unravel midnight confessions as ragged sour-mash mojo seeks open roads and honest hearts through rambunctious redemption. Covering Lightnin’ Hopkins and Bill Monroe, “Bad,” flags punk-roots magic from authentic Texas desperation, stirring gutbucket gumbo into fast-talking grifter wisdom

VHS or Beta - Diamonds and Death

Peek-a-boo grooves twist and shout unrolling house-rockin’ rhapsodies between steamy disco fevers streaming over non-stop strobe-lit fantasies. Throbbing spot-on hob-knobbing frolic in polished mosh-pit palpitations, robot hooks and dark romance, “Diamonds,” cuts rugs and fashion action-packed panache from dreamy sequencers and funky bass primed for gothic crimes. Four years since their last release, VHS or Beta mine refined, rock-hard tunes.

Nick Lowe - The Old Magic

Finger-snapping smooth and country-hip cool, Wilco tour-mate Lowe’s 13th album wraps itself around sentimental eloquence, replacing pub-rock raves made famous in his early days with a captivating compendium of frisky, rockabilly lullabies, starry-eyed Merseybeat and crooning Texas swing. Ace back-up and star-filled cameos from Paul Carrack, Jimmie Vaughan and Ron Sexsmith insure, Magic,” dazzles with professional performances surrounding impeccable arrangements.

Cuttooth - Elements

Skating, wading and dissipating translucent infusions of disembodied beats drift in unfathomable distance, “Element,” vents crackling static tracking unanchored flavors stalking self-absorbed moorings. Mercurial voices elude sizzling snippets wafting in weightless space, Cuttooth’s ethereal material hides whispered mysteries beside suspenseful silences, confounding boundaries alongside bent connections, veiled trails and traipsing vapors tuned to rippling sympathies, random abandon and alien samples.

Brown Bird - Salt for Salt

Somber and sensual, brisk gypsy jigs saw bluesy two-steps and woodsy rocking-chair tattletales conjuring back-porch baptisms from sawdust dance-floors. The East Coast duo’s raspy pluck, rosin-heavy flights and twisted tempos season blackwater stomps. Boosted by devilish bravado, “Salt,” bows and curtsey, bone-thin and thirsty, packing galloping insights into gossip-bound ghost stories, wily waltzes where goblin gauchos prance, scamper and canter.

The Gift - Explode

Grand-standing anthems dismantling pop-rock parades, “Explode,” downloads delirium-steered queries, igniting enchanted rockets bursting in perfect bubbles and blockbuster bombast. Symphonic aeronautics scoring escalated elation and kaleidoscopic schizophrenia, Portugal’s The Gift’s majestic conquests swiftly lift psychedelic synths above seductive child-like exuberance to layered melodramatic bravery breaching soaring guitar contortions exploring surrendered arena-sized splendor. The Gift visits Chicago’s Double Door Oct 11th.

View More

Viewing Page 5 - of 6

‹ First  < 3 4 5 6 > 

Contact Maximum Ink music magazine

• Contact: Webmaster(at)maximumink.com
• (608) 245-0781
• No Longer Accepting Unsolicited Packages
  Please email Webmaster or call for more info