Pitstop: Mei Semones

photo by Emily Gringorten

 

My introduction to Brooklyn based Mei Semones happened on a recommendation. My friend Christian of Precious Human had played a show as part of Jane Lai's band and Mei Semones was on the bill. Described as a hybrid of bossa nova and indie rock with strings my interest was immediately piqued. While my experience listening to artists like Sondre Lerche, Rodrigo Amarante, and Marinero have all demonstrated how fruitful and unique bossa nova influence can be filtered through a indie rock lens, Mei Semones is doing something entirely different than what I expected. A student of the Berklee College of Music, Semones music in an intriguing blend of jazz, bossa nova, rock and her Japanese heritage with most of her songs consisting of lyrics in both English and Japanese. Add in the string arrangements by violist Noah Leung and Semones achieves a truly arresting blend of sounds - everything working in an intricate concert.

Beginning with "Hfoas", her debut single released back in March of 2020, Semones sound arrived incredibly flushed out and clear of intention. Each subsequent release - her Tsukino and Sukikirai EPs have only solidified the strength of Semones skills. Despite the interchangeability of Japanese and English in Semones' music, there's rarely ever any meaning lost. Semones volleys between evocative imagery and pure emotion. 

"Okashi", the first single from Semones double single Shinju released last October was an immediate favorite. Starting from a whisper and filled with brilliant swells, "Okashi" is a lovelorn ballad that really encapsulates the multitude of ways Semones and her band are perfectly complementary. From underscoring her lyrics, to providing dramatic flourishes, "Okashi" is a dynamic masterpiece. Even its video directed by Evan Deng, demonstrates how fully realized Mei Semones concepts are. Juxtaposing Semones in white during the more infatuated parts of the song with darker costuming for when Semones delivers lines like "Grit your teeth, you don't want to hear me scream".

There are few bands that arrive with such an incredibly strong sense of self as Mei Semones. And their songs and visuals are all the more better for it. It's exciting to hear an artist who is able to pull from such an eclectic blend of influences and distill it into something that doesn't quite give away exactly what they are. But most importantly, Semones creates music that is an utter delight to listen to. It's methodical, well-crafted without appearing to be overly so. It's vulnerable and emotive without being overly sentimental or saccharine. Semones' music is wonderfully balanced and here's hoping there's tons more where that's come from. 

Listen to Mei Semones latest double single Shinju here:

Pitstop: BobbyFogg

 Though I was originally introduced to them mostly by pure happenstance, Bobby, the musical collective birthed at Bennington College in Vermont, has embedded itself into a significant portion of my musical DNA. Though they only released one album, their self-titled record on Partisan, so many of its members have grown on to create absolutely incredible projects: from Amelia Randall Meath (Mountain Man, Sylvan Esso, The As) and Molly Sarle, to Maia Freidman (Uni Ika Ai, Dirty Projectors) to Martin Zimmerman (Toebow). So color me surprised when after nearly a decade hiatus Bobby rose once more. Kind of. While Bobby's mythology was always that of the seven members articulating their music in the spirit of this sort of otherworldly figure, the new project is a spiritual successor to Bobby - titled BobbyFogg and continued by Bobby founding member Tom Greenberg.

As any of the members of Toebow can surely attest to, "Potluck" by Bobby was one of my favorite unreleased tunes - one that was available as a part of The Wild Honey Pie's Honey I'm Home Sessions. I've lost count of not only the number of times I have played it when it came out in 2012 but since then. Imagine my delight when I discovered that the first actual release of BobbyFogg was "Potluck". A mixed version by the engineer of Bobby's self-titled D James Goodwin, "Potluck" acts as bridge between the two stages of the project. "Potluck", featuring former members Friedman, Zimmerman, and Paolo Menuez, is an absolutely scintillating melange of acoustic guitar, synths, and percussion. One of the band's strengths has always lied in its ability to weave acoustic and electronic textures together and "Potluck" is a further testament to that. 

Though largely serving as Greenberg's own project at this point, "Half Tulip" credits Bobby alum Julian Labatt as a co-writer for the bass part - so the spirit of collaboration is still very well alive despite a pivot to BobbyFogg as a solo endeavor. And there's no shortage of layers in Greenberg's composition - retaining that same blend of organic and digitized sounds, while building his layers with impeccable precision. Released around the same time as "Potluck", there's no telling when Greenberg wrote and recorded this song but there is a stylistic shift - Greenberg doesn't appear to be trying to recreate the magic of Bobby but there's something there for fans of the band. One of the things that distinguishes BobbyFogg from Bobby is immediately evident - the lyrics. In "Half Tulip", they're at the forefront, often cutting through the din of Greenberg's expansive textures, in "Potluck", they're a part of the tapestry - with Friedman and Menuez's vocals treated as vibrant colors that are sparingly used. 

 

 Considering how long it's taken Greenberg to resurrect the project, there's no telling when we'll hear more but here's hoping more is on the horizon from BobbyFogg soon.

Pitstop: Wednesday

My introduction to Asheville's Wednesday actually happened from an inside joke a friend of mine made on social media. I didn't get the joke but knew that a band was being mentioned and when I saw they were slated to play Hopscotch Music Festival, I made a mental note to try and see them. When a schedule conflict and my own unpreparedness made me miss their Hopscotch set I kept the name in my mind. Then as Wednesday set about to tour behind their recently released sophomore full length I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone, I noticed they were touring alongside a bunch of new friends I had met at Hopscotch last year. That practically sealed the deal and I finally dove into their music.

The first thing I was struck by was the incredibly insistent nature of Wednesday's songs. The album's opening track "Fate Is..." begins like a thundercrack, a lion's roar. It's heavy, clamorous intro perfectly suited for singer/guitarist Karly Hartzman's seismic, emotive vocals which soon follow it. It's a track that begins at a gallop and doesn't ever really let up while still balancing its boisterous instrumentals with Hartzman's narrative persistence. It's the album's shortest track but also its most succinct. The polar opposite of a tracks like "Love Has No Pride (Condemned)" which takes its time with its build up; shifting gears a number of times between vignette like verses.

As the album progresses, its songs get longer, Hartzman's vocals more langorous but similarly capable of dispatching the emotive truth of a lived experience with an impressive brevity. Hartzman's hardly curt but has a knack for employing descriptive storytelling with an anecdotal ease. The quintet are properly dialed in, turning in properly cacophonus dips into darkly tinged shoegaze fuzz without obscuring Hartzman's narratives in the slightest. 

Wednesday's sophomore record I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone is out now on Orindal Records. You can stream/buy it here. 

Pitstop: Toebow

photo by Dave Herr

Brooklyn based art pop quintet Toebow essentially exist at a nexus point of my musical interests. Originally consisting of former members of Vermont experimental dream pop collective BOBBY in singer/guitarist Martin Zimmermann and singer/keyboardist Maia Friedman before her departure to focus on her other project Uni Ika Ai, Toebow occupy a similar though not congruent space of communal music making that exists largely on its own merits. The band have spent the better part of five years refining their incredibly texture based form of their self-described "cartoon rock" and establishing an identity entirely separate from their self-mythologizing former band. With songs like "The Return of Toebow", Toebow aren't averse to a little self-mythology however where Bobby used it as method to obscure and create a sense of something bigger than the rotating cast of musicians that formed the Tom Greenberg led collective, Toebow play at it with a tongue-in-cheek nature that definitely seems like a sly wink to those astute enough to know the band's history.

Spirit Mane, the band's debut EP, finds the band in peak form after years of playing together. It's an album that's been forged through their own internal sense of community as well as their live exploits and short but sweet, the four song EP is a perfect encapsulation of the various influences and sounds the band has access to without it seeming like a jarring jukebox selection of styles. Awash in psychedelic guitar riffs, synth tones, and four (occasionally five) part harmonies - Spirit Mane saunters through a diverse collection of sounds. From the technicolor speckled prog rock of album opener "I'll Be Gone" to the harmony laden tribal math folk of the EP's eponymous "Spirit Mane", Toebow manages to wrangle all of the varying shades of psychedelia into a cohesive and surprisingly accessible part of their sonic identity as they effortlessly weave elements of vibrant colored psych rock, pop, and folk with far more softer touches of the electronic than the band's earlier drum-pad/sample days. Though vocal duties often shifts between Zimmerman, guitarist Nate Ulsh, and the departed Friedman (who still guests on much of the EP), the repetitive mantra-like quality of the lyrics give a sense (especially in the pulsing, world music recalling "Belong") that Toebow's treat vocals as another brush by which to paint with. That's not to say there's no thought put into lyrical content - there is. But Toebow introduces lyrical narratives quickly with the first one or two lines and allow the arrangements to color them: the interplay between lyrics and arrangement interlocking to provide the full breadth of Toebow's narrative vision.



Spirit Mane is an artful balance of style and influence with original thought as well as lush arrangements with rhythmic density. There's a multitude of moving parts in any one Toebow song but the band never let their songs appear overstuffed - providing a host of layers without hindering an ease of movement. Toebow's song's are compositionally dense without sounding so and that's a feat in and of itself honed by years of familiarity. Spirit Mane, though a cohesive debut, essentially acts as a appetizer - an actual musical document for fans and new listeners alike unable to catch the band's spellbinding live set that provides a brief but well-rounded view of what the band is about.





Toebow's debut EP Spirit Mane is out now and you can snag it from the band's Bandcamp. The band are also in the midst of a residency at Three's Brewing and the final night of their residency occurs on May 15th. If you're in Brooklyn make sure to catch them with Home Body and Fieldings.

Pitstop: Boon

photo by Ben Nigh

My introduction to former Brooklyn based quartet Boon is one of those all-too-common instances for me of encountering a band several times before finally getting around to checking out their work. Originally slated for both our bands to play together, I had to leave before their set and thus missed Boon in their more common four-piece iteration. When I did actually manage to catch them a month later, it was an ambient set consisting exclusively of singer/songwriter Brendan Principato on synths. And through questioning a fellow showgoer far more familiar with them than I was informed that this particular set wasn't all that indicative of their recorded output. It wasn't until my band was slated to play with them again that I actually sat down to listen to them and even then it was solely their most recent release "Watermelon"/"Two of Cups". Though there were more than a few opportunities to acquaint myself with the band, the fact that I hadn't familiarized myself with their output essentially made for the most pleasant of surprises. Since the last time I had seen Principato, he and fellow bandmate Drew Sher moved to Philly and retooled the ambient folk project into a more organic twosome. Intricate interwoven guitar melodies met Principato's absolutely head-turning vocals and were pillowed by Sher's complementary harmonies.

While much of their set both that night and the following week consisted of newer tracks Principato and Sher had written after the release of their debut full length they released just this past Summer, being blown away by their set the first night inspired me to more actively consume the band and give There's No Saving This House the first of many spins as well as ensure that I was at their next planned show. Though Boon has effectively halved their lineup, there is no shortage of sound from Principato and Sher who, repurposing old tunes alongside new ones, have managed to minimize the amount of gear and hands necessary to create an incredibly lush textural masterpieces through just the use of reverb, delay, two guitars, and their own voices. Considering the duo's efforts to minimalize, I was struck by their ability to take an incredibly intricate song like album standout "Ruby Current" and really allow it to soar. Eight minutes in length on the record, it's a song that finds Boon giving in to their most jam band of impulses without that actually being a bad thing. "Ruby Current" begins at a stage whisper, a wash of threaded guitars forming as significant a part of the song's aural tapestry as climactic cymbal crashes and Principato's unrestrained melodic howls.



Boon's new setup isn't an entirely new formula. Two guitars, voice, minimal effects: it's been a standard combination practically since the invention of the guitar and surefire staple of the folk genre but it's also a testament to the power of effective songwriting and inventive performance that such a simple tweak has resulted in an absolutely enchanting entry into the genre. Boon's former brand of drone-friendly experimental folk pop was something the band could've effortless explored further and maybe they will continue to do so in the future but the "less is more" style that the duo have adopted as a necessity finds middle ground between standard acoustic focused folk and its more experimental permutation is also worth exploring. Whatever route the duo embark on in their future endeavors, it's sure to be anchored by Principato's emotionally effective vocals and the duo's embrace of stranger sounds and that's something to be excited about.



Boon's debut full length There Is No Saving This House is out now.

Pitstop: OHMME

photo by Michael Salisbury

My discovery of Chicago duo OHMME (formerly Homme) is a combination of constantly seeing former Red Eye Chicago writer Josh Terry gush about them and actually hearing their song "Woman" off their self-titled EP used by Ryan from Ahleuchatistas to promote a show he's playing with them later this month. While I certainly should've jumped on the suggestion the countless times Josh Terry inadvertently recommended them, it was actually hearing them that led to me being instantly charmed.

Though there's probably tons that can be said about the serendipitous linking of Sima Cunningham and Macie Stewart though the free improv scene in Chicago, the main focus should be on the fact that Cunningham and Stewart create songs that achieve a pitch perfect balance between indelible pop melodies, experimental sounds, and gorgeous vocal harmonies. Take "Woman" which begins with sharp guitar jangle before the duo's vocals enter with perfect harmonic softness, it's an immediate juxtaposition of opposites. That's to say nothing of the sweet dissonance of the song's chorus. OHMME are a band of opposites but also a band able to blend together those very parts in something notable. At once abrasive then soothing, OHMME is a dynamic band that filters their various influences into an intricately layered avant pop masterpiece.



The duo are able to weave together a sound that seems a hell of a lot bigger than just two people can make. Like "Fingerprints" which you swear is the result of some wonderfully deployed vocal effect but is really just the sound of Cunningham and Stewart being effortless in sync as they rapidly play off each other. It's a level of mind-boggling synchronicity that immediately brought to mind Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig of Lucius or frequent Son Lux collaborators Lily & Madeleine. And yet, OHMME is thankfully a band all their own. Their self-titled EP is a stunningly versatile work filled with both aggressive rock pop numbers and mellower vocal showcases sometimes even in the course of the same time like see-sawing "Furniture".



OHMME have been creating music together for years and their EP is a testament to both the talents Cunningham & Stewart and the seemingly limitless creativity of their bond. Hopefully it's not another three years before the duo put out another record but if it takes that long to get a record as unique and enjoyable in sound as the EP, it'll be well worth the wait.



OHMME's debut self-titled record is out now on Fox Hall Records. You can snag it via the band's Bandcamp.

Pitstop: Truth Club

I've always been strongly of the opinion that the true magic of a music festival lies not in the big name acts - the acts people know for a fact are good and enjoy but in the discovery of smaller acts that are perhaps far easier to miss. Hopscotch has made it both easier and harder to prove this assertion as they do a very good job booking so many interesting acts to so many interesting venues that you're torn between where you want to and where you should be. Raleigh's own Truth Club are a band I caught based purely on word of mouth from locals. When I asked everyone their plans for the penultimate day of Hopscotch everyone was sure to leave time in their schedules for Truth Club and I made sure to do the same.



The thing that intrigued me the most about the Raleigh trio lied mostly in the voice of singer/guitarist Travis Harrington. Among angular guitar melodies, surging tempos, and shifting dynamics, it's the one thing I found myself returning to and focusing on. Despite how many times you listen to any Truth Club song (and currently there aren't very many), you never quite get a sense of predictability from Harrington's vocal leaps. Truth Club sit at the intersection of pop punk and indie pop but never quite show their hand with where they're pulling influence in a particular song. Harrington's vocals are dynamic: whether their craning, or proceeding with a start-stop clip like a skipped stone they dictate essentially where the songs can go. That's not to say that the band aren't capable of truly intriguing instrumental moments: they are. Truth Club's song are made of an impressive assortment of these little memorable moments like the sudden cacophony in "Post-FOMO Life" or the drum hits that seem to punctuate the end of each of Harrington's thoughts on "Hi From C.A.". Despite their simple, standard setup, they play and write music with an air of maturity that's somewhat unexpected. Maybe that's due to past experience (Harrington was a member of Wilmington's Astro Cowboy) but one thing is clear: the band are sure to captivate from their very first note.



Truth Club's debut release Interest Meeting, released earlier this summer, is out now. You can grab it at a pay-what-you-want rate on Bandcamp.    

Pitstop: Glad Hand

One of the greatest thing to come out of Leeds outfit Adult Jazz (aside from their distinct brand of expansive, lush art-pop) is the fact that they have very talented friends whom they constantly try to uplift. It's probably the closest an outside listener halfway across the globe can get a sense of what kind of music scene Adult Jazz are a part of. While fans may have been introduced to Kyle Molleson's project Makeness not only through his place of several mixes but also through his collaboration with Adult Jazz's Harry Burgess "Other Life" last year, London foursome Glad Hand are another band worthy of knowing. Fellow school companions (and featuring Kyle Molleson of Makeness in their roster), Glad Hand make a sort of ephemeral, texture rich experimental pop that's not too far away from what fans of Adult Jazz are sure to be looking for. But Glad Hand are more than mere Adult Jazz soundalikes. While not quite as rooted in dance as bassist Molleson's Makeness, Glad Hand songs are prodded along their wide, cavernous expanses by interlocked grooves and singer/songwriter Declan Pleydell-Pearce's sinewy vocals give the songs much of its mutable character.



Their debut album Be Kind, released earlier this year, contains a collection of songs made up of intriguing sounds and timbres and percussion to create a sort of captivating mirage pop. Songs like "Been One Thing" or "Shape Your Fever Close" which brush right up against their pop sensibilities recall early Wild Beasts while tracks like album opener "Undone" is much more characteristic of the band and the album in its sumptuous slow burn. The album is made up of these incredible moments of quiet tension and release. There's dynamic musical peaks but each songs manages to be engaging in its own right and hold your attention even when there's not an obvious amount of things going on instrumentally that ultimately makes album ender "Eavesdropper" with its sparse, almost a capella opening feel well and truly earned.



One of Glad Hand's strengths is not only its synthesis of ideas but also the sum of their individual talents: Dan Jacobs' jazz percussion, effortlessly subtle production, and the elasticity of Pleydell-Pearce's enrapturing vocals. The most surprising thing about Glad Hand is not its subtlety but that they manage to create all these pockets of silence or open sound that draw you further in. Glad Hand are minimalists and considering their standard rock band setup the could easily fill all the space but they don't. The spaces, the silence, the slow unfurling of their songs and the lack of musical drama are what set them apart from other outfits like Wild Beasts. For Glad Hand not only is less more but it can be an obsessive and rewarding focus: like how a snare rolls can form the backbone of an entire song. Be Kind is a multi-layered album that reveals more and more of itself with each listen. It's a record that draws from progressive genres like jazz, prog rock, and occasionally contemporary classical to translate its lyrical subjects of the phantom self, unreciprocated love, and self-doubt musically into a swirling miasma of disorienting effects and sounds.



Glad Hand's debut album Be Kind is out now as a pay-what-you-want download via their Bandcamp. A physical 12" featuring "Shape Your Fever Close" and "Been One Thing" as well as remixes from Glad Hand's Dan Jacobs and Makeness is also available from Handsome Dad Records.

Pitstop: Photay

A continuing point of interest for me has been the intersection of electronic and acoustic sounds: the interplay between mechanical and digital sound. It's what drew me to bands like Hundred Waters, Bayonne, or early Night Beds. The method of composition entwines these two radically separate ideas and blurs the line until you're not so sure what is processed and what is natural sound. Or at least that's what some of the best electronic acts have been able to do. Sometimes it's less about blurring that line and more about one informing the other. That's essentially what Photay's new album Onism sets out to achieve. Introduced to him through fellow ambient/chillwave artist Teen Daze, Onism was inspired by the nature documentaries on the 70s that largely relied on synthesizers.

It's an album at odds with itself: crafted in Brooklyn and other cities, a various national parks, and the Hudson Valley that Photay's Evan Shornstein calls home. The idea of Shornstein trying to rectify these normally conflicting places through his own electronic experimentation called me to Onism like a siren song. Unlike the electronic music I normally gravitate towards where it's hard to suss out just what is a naturally occurring sound and what is digitized/augmented, Shornstein relies almost purely on synthetic sound. Sure there's saxophone, cello, and even a balafon featured throughout the album but most impressively Shornstein seeks to capture a sense of place through the art of soundtrack almost. It's not about replicating the natural to conjure impressions of it, rather Shornstein takes the inspiration he feels from his forays into the natural world and let's it inform his sound. He's not trying to mimic or replicate, he's merely drawing necessary inspiration and filtering through his own lens. Perhaps the most surprising thing is how well this works and what makes a moment like "Aura", a rare moment of Shornstein actually singing, so effective. It's an album that even at its most bombastic strives for harmony and a sort of meditative calm. And Shornstein is adept at navigating these high energy moments and steering them into the sense of quiet that they all practically demand.

The most surprising thing about Onism: more so than how evocative Shornstein's ability to invoke these nature scenes in the mind's eye of the listener but how effective his ability to imbue even the most silent-striving moments of Onism with an engaging tension. Every moments on Onism is one of dynamic interest: a testament not only to Shornstein's talents in production but also of compositional prowess.



Photay's debut full length album Onism is out now on Astro Nautico.

Pitstop: Twain

photo by Samantha Skapin

My introduction to Twain, the project of Brooklyn based singer/songwriter Mat Davidson actually happened several months ago in October when he opened for Kishi Bashi's Webster Hall stop of the Sonderlust tour. Armed solely with a guitar and his incredibly emotive yodel, it was an incredibly captivating set. After the show I immediately sought to acquaint myself with Davidson's catalog while also biding my time until an announcement of an album that would feature a number of the newer songs he had played that night (namely an absolutely emotional wrecking ball of the tune by the name of "Georgia"). The wait is actually why I didn't rush to feature him right away: I figured with so many new songs an album would surely be on the immediately horizon and I'd prefer to talk about beguiling man and his brilliant songcraft then. However after catching him again opening for the incredible Big Thief, it occurred to me that there really wasn't any good reason to wait. Davidson's music is stunning in its beauty and needed to be shared. On record - Davidson employs a host of musicians to fill in the spaces and it was a somewhat startling departure from the raw force Davidson taps into for his solo live shows. The songs still contain the same touching lyricism but there's something to be said for his calm, more measured delivery instead of his rafter-seeking vocals that easily overtake every nook and cranny of the room he plays in.



A member of Spirit Family Reunion (a fact I learned only after seeing him twice), Davidson's music is rooted in much of the deep American music tradition that serves as their inspiration: namely bluegrass, folk, and gospel. Though guitar is his main instrument, he's equally well versed in piano and fiddle, and these factor into his album efforts. Davidson's music deal almost exclusively with matters of the heart: the feeling of homesickness when you've been on the road for a long time, the blossoming feeling when you catch your lover off guard, Twain  is adept in this regard easily balancing these relateable feelings and subjects with winsome, simple presentation. Davidson doesn't engage in any extra frills: rather his vocals so consuming in their fervorous intensity serve as both the window and the grounding element of his music. Much like artists like The Tallest Man on Earth or Mandolin Orange the anticipation between albums is less about expecting radical tonal departures but rather what new lessons his distinct voice will seek to impart. With an album completed, it hopefully won't be too long before we heard Twain's new tales of love and woe and I couldn't be more invested.





Until his next album is announced cozy up with Twain's previous releases including the his recently re-pressed Life Labors In The Choir which you can order via Davidson's Bandcamp. He's also on tour with Big Thief and I strongly recommend catching both of them if they're in your city - you absolutely will not regret it.

Pitstop: Cassandra Jenkins

My introduction to New York singer/songwriter Cassandra Jenkins essentially happened due to her constant association with other bands/acts I love: Landlady, Sam Evian/Celestial Shore, Cantina, Will Stratton all have had nothing but good things to say about her and played numerous shows with her that after seeing her name for the umpteenth time I decided to finally check her out. That was several years ago and with her debut full length album Play Till You Win out this Friday, it seemed like the right time (albeit a little late on my part) to share her music with the uninitiated.

Cassandra Jenkins makes the kind of music that seems simple enough to have an easy label for and yet, manages to elude definition. Her lyrics are winningly intimate, effortlessly clever and poetic and especially on the several singles she's let loose from her upcoming album are arranged with an immersive vastness. Jenkins takes the simplicity of folk and country music and pairs them with the ornate stature of chamber pop; the subdued, understated grace of bedroom crafted dream pop. It's a style wholly her own made through a process almost like paint mixing.

Where her EP lay firmly in country territory with its lap steel, on tracks like Play Till You Win's opening number "Candy Crane", Jenkins amasses a larger assortment of textures and sounds. From pedal steel to omnichord, the arrangements belie the fact that there's really a hell of a lot going on in it. Strings, organ, electric and acoustic guitar, Jenkins somehow wrangles the multitude of instruments into a hushed but fluid flow.



Then you have a song like her most recent single "Hotel Lullaby" which is a lovely aquatic reverie. The arrangements are still pristine and underplayed and yet, in its dreamy lilt, Jenkins lets each individual instrument as well as her vocals and their harmonic echo emerge from the gently lapping waves of sound and bubble into focus. Soothing and beaming with effervescent calm, it's a masterclass in ease. In fact all of her songs give off a sense of effortlessness. Flowing and free, they can seemingly go on forever even as they all rarely clock in longer at than 4 minutes. It's a sort of cohesive forward momentum that bodes incredibly well for Jenkins' full length album effort.





Cassandra Jenkins' debut full length Play Till You Win is out April 7th.

Pitstop: Wae

If you're anything like me and have been waiting for news from Baltimore experimental pop duo Lands & Peoples then you're a bit in luck. While the project is still on hiatus, Caleb Moore and Beau Cole have returned to their somewhat abandoned side projects. Cole's resurrected Zu Shapes and Moore has started a new band by the name of Wae of which Beau is a member and put out his debut record Glimmer earlier this month. If you're looking for more of Lands and Peoples' loop based pop, Wae is a bit of a different speed. On Glimmer, Moore returns not only to his bedroom pop roots but also to recordings he's done several years ago and updates them into a coherent sound. The result is hazy, languorous rock pop with electronic flourishes.

Though he's assembled a competent live band to realize his compositions, the sounds on Glimmer are all of Moore's creation: recorded and multi-tracked onto a 4 or 8 track cassette. Considering that Moore's and Cole's musical compatibility is what essentially led them to form and continue Lands & Peoples from quartet into duo, it's interesting to see how the two's shared influences express themselves in their different projects. Providing to further be the musical ying to Cole's yang, Wae settles for more harsher, more jarring tones than Zu Shapes' silky dream pop while still striving for a similar softness. Wae characterized by dynamics leaps than Zu Shapes' gestating crescendos.



That's not to say Moore doesn't take his time. Though the majority of the songs on Glimmer clock in at around 3 minutes or less, Moore gives his songs adequate time to build and achieve his dramatic shifts by taking the scenic route. That sense of patience is what enables the heavy, psychedelic "Too Much" and all its grand pauses and elongated phrases. Glimmer is an album of continuous push and pull; brief winsome moments of pop goodness balanced with longer, cerebral moments of instrumental cacophony.



Wae's debut album Glimmer is out now on Friends Records.

Pitstop: AlhhlA

A couple months back when I saw Yairms live I went hunting for music for them and brushed right up alongside AlhhlA without realizing what was happening. You see, Yairms and AlhhlA are two projects that are basically intertwined in a way that it's virtually impossible to encounter one without discovering the other. In addition to putting out a split record back in 2014, Yairms and AlhhlA essentially share members and have been known to tour together quite frequently. And yet they're decidedly different projects. Where Yairms filters all their experimentalism through a folk rock lens, visual artist/drummer Andrew Levi Hiller's project is a lot tougher to classify. The best way to describe Alhhla would probably be percussion heavy art pop but even that isn't necessarily always true. "lo-love", the newest track since the split recalls the dreamy otherworldliness of Levek and similarly avoids the very notion of genre. It's a sprawling piece of intricate layering.





"Who Shall Lead" is probably the most pop leaning of AlhhlA's oeuvre and even so it's more due to it's pulsing tribal-esque rhythms than it's following any of the conventions. Featuring everything from loops and samples to angular guitar notes, the bulk of the melodic work rests on Hiller's vocals as the guitar as well as an effect incredibly reminiscent of a sitar mostly form a mesh of intriguing timbres. It's surprisingly infectious, staying with you long after it's spiraled off into silence like a desert caravan.



Despite having wrapped up a tour with Yairms, there's no telling when we'll get to hear new music from AlhhlA but one thing is clear: Andrew Levi Hiller is making music that is as fascinating to listen to as it is wildly unique. He's definitely an artist worth paying attention to and though his available output is unfortunately quite sparse, it's definitely worth coming into contact with.

Pitstop: Jack Martini

photo by Riccardo Niar

My discovery of Italian singer/songwriter Jack Martini was the direct result of my appearance at a show late last year at Arlene's Grocery in Manhattan where I had no real idea who any of the band's were or sounded like. A college friend was in town on tour with his band Dreambeaches and the stars aligned in such a way that I happened to be free. Jack Martini and his rag tag collective of incredibly talented fellow Berklee students were easily the night's highlight. Their numbers approaching Typhoon levels of "How do you fit all those people on the stage", their set was a triumphant and free almagam of jazz and pop without really adhering to any preconceived notions of any of the genres Martini cruises though and yet his music succeeds for his ability to take what he needs to create surprisingly simple pop gems.

Perhaps due to his worldliness or in spite of it, the strength of Jack Martini's songcraft lies both in his easy wit and intelligent turns of phrase he effortlessly threads through much of lyricism. Despite the absolutely stellar arrangements, songs like "Unimpressed People" or "Pleasantly Surprised" stay with you more for the beguiling simplicity of Martini's universal lyrical themes. And songs like "Kevin Spacey" and "Apricot Love" which tone down the full band in favor of emotion stirring minimalism are even more indicative that Martini doesn't need his pop overtures to make his songs stick. His Marmalade Love EP is a lovely collection of songs that show a great deal of potential for the young songwriter. Hopefully it's not too long before Martini and his collaborators show there's even more where that came from.



You can stream Jack Martini's Marmalade Love EP now.

Pitstop: And The Kids

Sometimes musical discoveries come to you by happenstance and you immediately follow the lead and end up finding a band you're super into. Other times you have to be practically bludgeoned by suggestions before you actually pay attention and give the band a listen. Northampton quartet And The Kids are far more of the latter. Despite numerous appearances at my hometown venue BSP Kingston over the past two years, and even a recommendation coupled with a listen to "All Day All Night" from Eamon over at Small Plates Records as recently as last year, it wasn't until they announced a tour with experimental rock faves Palm earlier this year that I finally took the hint. Sort of. While I had plenty of time to acquaint myself with their music between the tour announcement and when they actually hit NY, I neglected to do so and experienced them for the first time live twice in one weekend.





And The Kids are definitely the kind of band that are worth seeing live first, last, and everywhere in between. Even whittled down to a trio, the group is insanely tight knit; their energy utterly vivacious. Their harmonies immaculate and their hooks effortlessly infectious. But their intense live energy would mean nothing if their songs weren't any good and thankfully And The Kids are making tunes that are so incredibly hard to pin down. It helps that Hannah Mohan's vocals are so distinct and so versatile - easily shifting from more meditative folk inspired numbers to the frenetic avant pop that makes up much of their sophomore effort Friends Share Lovers that they released earlier this year. That versatility applies to the band at large often switching gears in the midst of a song. That's perhaps one of the biggest treats of the band's songs - you're never quite sure where the songs will end up or how important some of your favorite musical moments will end up being. Where some bands aim for settling into familiar grooves, And The Kids push themselves towards bigger and bolder musical statements capitalizing on the momentum to pivot from moment to moment perfectly in tune with when to build it up and when to let it go. The result is songs that are rewarding to listen to that are distinct in their progression.

Pitstop: Yairms

On December 2nd I finally achieved one of my long standing show goals to see Athens GA experimental rocker Mothers live. I'd heard of them from CMJ 2014 but failed to see them both during that CMJ and on their subsequent NY visits. And yet despite their amazing set the most rewarding surprise of the night lied in one of their openers: a trio by the name of Yairms. Considering they've played shows with favorites Big Thief, Palm, WRITER, and Friend Roulette, I'm surprised I hadn't experienced them sooner. The now Brooklyn based band create a narrative driven blend of psychedelic folk reminiscent experimental rock. From the moment they started their first song of the night, it was abundantly clear Yairms was making music practically tailor-made for my interests: incredibly distinct vocals, infectious angular melodies, and curiosity piquing lyrical narratives.



There is, on their debut EP Part One, a delightful keen sense of self, a sidestepping of obvious songwriting tropes and song structure, and an innovative spirit that keeps the songs fresh even after numerous listens. While Yairms' only constant has been singer/songwriter Jerry Rodgers, there is a sense of collaboration as Rodgers enlists the help of friends to fill the ranks of both his live and recording outfit. That collaborative spirit is evidenced in much of Yairms recorded output - the drum parts provided by Andrew Hiller of Alhhla and taken up by Peter McLaughlin live are intricate and impressive: they're partly a showcase of sorts that still fit in perfectly with the songs. And that's part of Yairms appeal - the songs are complementary to Rodgers with no great pains taken to make them so. There is, even at their most frenetic, an ease and comfort and despite the fact that you probably haven't heard what Yairms is doing before there's an effortless feeling of familiarity that hooks you. They're pretty much guaranteed to become your new favorite band.

Pitstop: Armel Dupas

My introduction to the music of French pianist/composer Armel Dupas was due to the strange sense of serendipity that's become pretty commonplace in some of my most unexpected and most treasured music discoveries. A matter of happenstance found us sat next to each other at the record release show for Christopher Tignor's latest album Along A Vanishing Plane. At the bar with time to kill, Dupas struck up a conversation that went from stories of how we came to be at this particular concert to our musical interests and endeavors and an easy rapport ensured that we checked in after each set to discuss what we had just witnessed. Earlier in the evening Dupas shared that he was a musician and his interest in the pedal setups and gear of opener Patrick Higgins and of Christopher Tignor had me resolved to check out his music before he even offered information on where to find it.

What struck me immediately about Dupas' music, especially that of his most recent effort Upriver, was an incredible subtlety; a lightness of touch and a refreshingly sense of minimalism. Dupas' melodies are beautiful and free flowing but carry an ephemeral air. His use of electronics is sparse but effective often used for color than an actual composititional focus until its climatic use in "Sometimes I Need Some Time" and the interlude "Epilogue". Though Dupas has trained in jazz, his music transcends the genre while still applying skills and techniques he gained from it. Dupas has cited Nils Frahm as an influence but at times on Upriver, he more recalls Japanese pianist/composer Mashashi Hamauzu and his impressionistic lilt. Like Hamauzu, Dupas makes incredible use of space and silence as his melodies expand out like questions confidently asked and patiently awaiting their answer. The album effortlessly flows from one piece to another but not without each making a noteable impression. From sprightly opener "Les Plaines De Mazerolles" to the only vocal track "Aujord'hui il a Plu" to meditative closer "Upriver" no one song is the same but the album grows in such a way that none seem out of place and its end is wonderfully cathartic.

Armel Dupas is a gifted pianist, yes. But Upriver demonstrates a knack for arranging a rewarding musical voyage that's thrilling both in actual practice and its potential. Dupas evades easy definition while offering a collection of pieces that a brilliantly original. Upriver is a pristinely plotted soundtrack of nocturne's that's enjoyable and exciting in its presentation: effortless in delivery and engaging in its composition.





Armel's debut solo album Upriver is out now on Jazz Village.

Pitstop: Lofty Stills

photo by May Xiong

The Internet is strange and marvelous thing. While an effective tool for seeking out new music and following promising new leads, it's also responsible for those strange moments of happenstance that introduces me to new music writers and new acts purely based off of an mutual interest. That's essentially how I came into contact with Luke Culbertson of Lofty Stills. After sending a series of tweets out into the ether about my incredibly mixed feelings about the new Night Beds material, Culbertson casually engaged as a mutual fan of their work and we would chat intermittently about where our heads were at at different stages of our consumption of the new Night Beds record. It was some time before I even found out Luke was a musician and that's probably for the best. If Luke had actively tried to promote his material to me from the get go, I most likely wouldn't have checked it out. Only when it was offered as kind of an afterthought, was my interest piqued.

So of course it was a funny thing that I found Culbertson's project Lofty Stills to be incredibly reminiscent of early Night Beds and Winston Yellen's friends from his time in Colorado Springs Lovelier Other. But there's more to Lofty Stills than being a Night Beds soundalike - meshing a twangy sound with a smooth dream pop tapestry, Culbertson's project continues a tradition of folk oriented bedroom pop with production that belies the simplicity of its creation and that Yellen has since abandoned in favor of electronic experimentalism. Culbertson's arrangements are lush without overwhelming Culbertson's delicate emotive tenor; his vocal harmonies doing the majority of the heavy lifting. Lofty Stills' songs arrive and leave in majesty vocal flourishes flooded with raw emotive force and yet there's no doubt Culbertson crafts his songs with meticulous precision. It's production is svelte but not too polished, spotlighting the roots in folk and country over Culbertson's electronic know how. His use of samples like Connee Boswell's "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" in "How Wrong I Was" a subtle compliment instead of a jarring distraction.

Culbertson's self-titled EP is a stunning collection of songs brimming with beguiling intimacy and winsome sincerity and musicianship. In fact, the only problem I can seem to find with it, in my growing number of repeat plays, is in its brevity: Culbertson's song have almost depressingly short life cycles flowering and withering like a spring ephemeral. Here's hoping there's more from Lofty Stills to come and soon.



Lofty Stills' self-titled EP is out now and available to stream/download via his Bandcamp.

Pitstop: Margaret Glaspy

photo by Ebru Yildiz

There's times when you encounter an artist/band that appears from the very first listen to be tailor made for you. Something that speaks to you on the most basic level - the way they write songs, the way they're arranged, the instruments they play, all or just one of these resonates with you down to your very core. Brooklyn based singer/songwriter Margaret Glaspy essentially did that for me on first listen to the emotive "Somebody To Anybody".

And yet despite taking notice of her earlier, it wasn't until the release of her debut full length record Emotions and Math when I could gauge Glaspy fully as an artist that I felt that I could actually articulate what makes her so special, so noteworthy as a new singer/songwriter. While the badassery of the fiery kiss-off "You and I" immediately reminded me of Laura Marling or "Serpents" Sharon Van Etten, Glaspy is more than just your latest resident female singer/songwriter. Glaspy is a talented singer/songwriter able to weave common turns of phrase into creative narratives that still resonate with universal truth ("You Don't Want Me"). Glaspy is also able to match the intensity of her emotions (which run an impressive spectrum) with fierce guitar work. Songs like growling "Situation" and "Pins and Needles" which bristle with contempt and sputter with vitriol are paired with precise but harsh guitar riffs. 

Emotions and Math is a feat of simple admirable songcraft. The songs are catchy and memorable slices of intelligent guitar pop with jazzy flavor and Glaspy crafts effecting narratives rooted in sincere emotion. The result is a set of songs at times languidly melancholic, at times stormily reactive that end up being ultimately empowering and unrelentingly enjoyable. Glaspy's main talent lies in her relatability and Emotions and Math never disappoints in that regard. Where Glaspy goes from this stunning collection is anybody's guess but her ability to invoke visceral reactions with a sense of effortlessness will no doubt continue to serve her well. 

Margaret Glaspy's debut full length album Emotions and Math is out now on ATO Records.  

Pitstop: Jipetto

As I get more interested in electronic music, it's been a treat to stumble upon more and more artists that are doing really exciting things in the genre. Take Jipetto, the project from Kansas City based producer Max McFarland manages to pair his pretty stellar production skills with forays into soul and funk in a way that seems every bit as legitimate as acts like Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Thundercat.

Releasing his debut full length Waterbed just last week, it's a tightly produced collection of songs that do a very, very good job of both introducing Jipetto as a producer of note while also showing seemingly the best he has to offer. It's a strong debut especially considering he just started releasing music in 2014 and from its very initial moment - the title track "Waterbed", Jipetto is at peak groove. It's a purely digital creation - much to my own amazement but there's no doubting the musicianship involved in its composition. The melodies are memorable, his vocals effective and raw, and most importantly the songs are actually interesting. McFarland's touch is light, the sign of an actually good producer, as he allows his songs to bow and bend with minimal effects. Despite the rising trend in incorporating R&B/hip hop beats for popular appeal by a number of acts that's grown far too considerable to list, McFarland's presents his music with a sense of sincerity that's certainly infectious. Jipetto's songs are masterfully produced, finding just the right balance point between McFarland's inspirations and influences and the sense of originality he has to offer as an electronic producer and the result are songs that are catchy, enjoyable but also exceptionally well crafted.  



  

Jipetto's debut full length record Waterbed is out now. You can stream it now via Jipetto's Soundcloud.