What the fuck is wrong with 2017? Seriously. Did someone find my old iPod from the 10th grade and think: You know what? We need all these bands to release some new singles this year just to fuck with this guy. I feel like his nostalgic angst will be the fuel that lights 2017 ablaze.
…anyway here’s “Wonderwall”
Just kidding. This is a new Linkin Park song. Kind of.
I wasn’t aware that it was 1999 and Incubus was, once again, making me want to drive around all night tonelessly singing along with their new song. Get it? Because that song was also called “Drive”?
God, I’m funny.
In all seriousness, Incubus has always been a band known for their ability to transcend genres and for expertly crafted lyrics; this new single is no exception to that rule. The song hits hard with metal guitar riffs and a frenetic energy that is reminiscent of albums like “S.C.I.E.N.C.E”. However, that fact may also be the biggest flaw. Continue reading
Jens Lekman, a Swedish chanteur nonpareil, has produced what is easily (at least, at this point in late February), my favorite album of the year so far. Blending styles as disparate as calypso, disco, folk, and indie pop, Life Will See You Now is a triumph of a record. Unabashedly, unreservedly, this is a fantastic album. Occasionally, it suffers from an abundance of over-earnest, almost saccharine outpouring of emotion. But it’s forgivable under the circumstances – Lekman manages to make the songs on this album so heartbreaking, so real, and so cutting, that the odd misstep is waved away with few reservations.
The fourth episode of the Distant Stations podcast is now live.
Topics of discussion: Lucero’s 1372 Overton Park, The New Radical’s Maybe You’ve Been Brainwashed Too, thinly-disguised hero worship of David Duchovny and John Darnielle, and a double dose of Sufjan Stevens (with guest reviewer Ansley).
Well, that was a rough one. Ryan Adams’ latest effort, Prisoner, is a harrowing, and barely disguised, outpouring of catharsis stemming from his recent divorce and subsequent life apart from Mandy Moore. You can sense her presence, or perhaps rather her absence, looming in every corner of this album. You can hear the breakdown threatening to occur in every note Adams sings. It’s such a deeply personal thing that at times you almost feel bad for listening to it. Almost, but not quite.
I cant help but wonder what a world where Papa Roach got good, solid, weekly therapy would look like. It seems like every song that Jacoby Shaddix writes comes from a place of self-harm and self-hatred, and yet there is an overt and powerful catharsis from their energy and song-writing that a part of me will always appreciate – even as I steadily grow out of the hardcore sound. I will say, after returning to this band 15 years later (yes, you read that right…the album “Infest” came out in 2002), its really nice to see they’ve put the Rap-Rock sound to pasture… hopefully with a swift, painless bolt-gun shot to the brain stem.
I know I’m a day late to the party here, but here’s a Valentine’s-themed playlist to soundtrack the rest of your week. Whether you’re a grumbling cynic or a hopeless romantic, there’s something for you here – 31 songs about love, heartbreak, secretive trysts, and Kafka’s sex life. Enjoy.
Once, in a great long while, an album comes out that speaks to a generation. Every track, a master class in prose and lyrical ingenuity. An album with music so powerful it makes the great masters- Chopin, Mozart, Mercury, Bowie – spin in their graves so hard, the friction causes a tectonic shift that would bring the Titans to their knees.
“Is it finally true that we’re not getting any younger?” – “Boy Blue”, Track 8
Honestly? I kinda hate reviewing another album as impressive as this one. I’ve kinda become accustomed to tearing things down and yet, here we are: Listening to another master class in modern day Punk Rock that you should all start listening to right away.
The Menzingers knock it out of the park with their newest release “After The Party”, reaching deep into the nostalgia center of my brain while simultaneously forcing me to take a long look at my position in life; being forced to grow out of late nights, booze, and leather jackets. Like re-reading yearbook comments from friends you haven’t seen in a decade, just before walking in to your high school reunion.