The untethered project of singer-songwriter Carolina Chauffe – who performs under the name hemlock – has shared two new singles today, “Depot Dog” and “Lake Martin”, premiering here on the ugly hug. This comes as the third group of singles released tandem from their upcoming album 444 set to be self-released on 10/11. Brought to life by the intimate and bountiful friendship of the “Chicago lineup”, composed of Andy “Red” PK, Bailey Minzenberger and Jack Henry, those that have been following the hemlock experience over the years will probably recognize these songs. Previously released within an extensive archive of song-a-day-a-month projects, 444 finds these songs now repurposed, grasping new life, grit and universality as they have grown over time.
Playing to the rush of a windowless drive, “Depot Dog” is consistent, fast and unburdened by the green lights ahead that refuse to break the pace. With a Neil Young-esque sharpness to the sticky guitar tones, the song is determined to the journey as the band falls into a groove of precision. “a throat full of skipping stones / lately lonely, but not alone / windows down cajun music / playin on the bluetooth radio”, Chauffe sings, lamenting the changing seasons and the transitions that follow, relaying to the personal implications of their own shifting surroundings. But building from the wit and charm that has since defined hemlock’s career, Chauffe writes to the peculiar moments of reliability found in the small things that keep us grounded; “unlikely truth like a hot dog from Home Depot / against all odds like a hot dog from Home Depot.”
“Lake Martin” is a rhythmic prayer, a slide show of life’s very construction, as Chauffe romanticizes a swampy south Louisiana sunset in all of its glory. Recorded in one take and putting a cap on the 444 sessions, Chauffe performs with pure sincerity in the midst of an awe inducing stillness. Like the functioning ecosystem of a swamp – “cuz everybody’s someone’s dinner here / the show isn’t for free / I pay my due, I tip my server / generosity reciprocal” – “Lake Martin” is a love letter to the communal harmony we find everywhere we look. Eluding to both our beginnings and ends, the song comes to a close as the backdrop of cars highlight the small, proud exhale from Chauffe, giving the last line the serenity it needs to continue breathing; “What a wonder to be welcomed – full belonging to the beauty of it all.”
Nara’s Room, the Brooklyn trio fronted by Nara Avakian, has shared two new singles “Holden” and “Waiting for the z” today as a precursor to their upcoming album, Glassy star out 10/18 via Mtn. Laurel Recording Co. Through the deliberation of sifting noise and strong lyrical intuitions, Nara’s Room has always circulated around the production of dreams and the reverie towards real life environments. With arrangement help from Ethan Nash and Brendan Jones and production by James Duncan, Nara’s Room return heavy handed, pushing the sonic boundaries of what we deem is possible while simultaneously defining their placement in an ever shifting world.
Gradually, “Holden” spirals into being through a rhythmic doom loop; constructed by the scrunchy mechanical noises and the unease that the sonic structure so easily brings out. It isn’t long before the industrial tones and gothic reverb open to a wave of jangly instrumentals, reminiscent of 80s pop and shoegaze classics, but with the trio’s own unique touches strung about. “How can we dream in a world we’re persistently being pushed out of?” Avakian asks in a statement about the song. As the chorus is emboldened by the distorted depths of the track, the band articulates every texture and sonic idea within, filling the void with individual voices as Avakian tries to define intense feelings of alienation and belonging.
In the same vein, “Waiting for the z”, lives in the balance between brutality and faith, trapped within its own confined and isolated space. With a brief spoken word piece, Avakian recites, “She led me out the door, “I can help you, it’s time to let go / Forgot what face I have on today, the clouds can tell you so,” over an eerie combination of pounding drums and a hollow bass that meanders with patience. As Avakian takes a pause, the shy words are soon succumbed to the sonic revisions of glitchy guitars and thrashing concussive drums, leaving your soul crunched and your ears tender, but in no way deterred by the experimental spirit and sincerity of the band at hand.
Each song is also accompanied by a music video made by Avakian, who has been specializing in VHS-type recordings under the project Foggy Cow. You can watch the new music videos below. Glassy star, out October 18 via Mtn. Laurel Recording Co., will have a limited tape run, which you can preorder now.
“I don’t know, it kind of goes back to, ‘why do you listen to depressing music?”, Kauffman brings up. “I think it’s more about a connection. If other people are feeling that, and you know that, why not talk about it?”
Last month, Abel released one of the most brash and heartfelt records of the year in Dizzy Spell. Fronted by Isaac Kauffman, the Columbus-based band took a much more collaborative approach to writing and recording, developing their sound further into a collective mix of brutal distortion and folk solidarity that reaches to the heart of the Midwest underground.
I recently got to catch up with Kauffman to discuss the record, shuffling through the teeth rattling noise, broken pop hooks and heart wrenching sincerity that makes Dizzy Spell a record worth holding on tight to.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
Abel
Shea Roney: Dizzy Spell marked a much more collaborative approach to anything Abel has done before. Where did you see shifts in your process? Did you find any hidden strengths when collaborating as a full group?
Isaac Kauffman: Just in terms of sheer layering, I think there were a lot of shifts, because I think in the past it’s been pretty cut and dry (4 track type recordings and stuff). But now there’s room for so much more play, and honestly, I feel like if anything, the more we implement collaboration, the more and more we’re figuring out who should be doing this and who should be doing that, and who’s really bad at this, and who’s really good at that. So I mean, I guess both strengths and weaknesses, but I’d say we’re learning a lot about our strengths in terms of ‘can we riff on something?’ or ‘can we actually improv or not?’, that kind of thing.
SR: These songs are a mixture of both songs you have been playing for a few years now as well as newly written ones. How did this collection come to be? Where do the older songs sit with you now as they are finally released?
IK: First and foremost, there was “Rut” which we originally dropped back in 2021. That just kind of started this phase where I wanted to create more gazy atmospheres and just really see what I could do with distortion and producing distortion. In the past, we’ve been really clean cut, and after “Rut”, we were trying to figure out where to go. I feel like that’s kind of where this came about, because we definitely had the itch to make more singer-songwriter type songs, but I think more so, we just wanted to really advance our live sound to a studio and to tape, you know, to something final. The past two years we’ve done a few tours and just doing that made us realize that we’re more so of a live band and we want to make sure that that comes across in our recordings.
SR: So has playing these songs live help develop and flesh out what we hear on the album? How quickly do you begin to play a song live once it has been written?
IK: We usually play stuff pretty quickly. We’re already playing shows where 70% of our set isn’t even Dizzy Spell anymore. Most of these songs we were able to develop live except for “Wanna”, just because it was originally released two years ago before that EP (Leave You Hanging) with Candlepin and it was way more hyper-poppy. So playing that live I think we realized that we wanted to go a more noisy route; like blow up our speakers type deal at the end. When Brynna [Hilman] joined the band, we decided, ‘okay, we need to sit back and actually figure out how to make the EQ spectrum work on all of these amps’. So I think “Rut” evolved simply because we got to evolve our tones.
SR: After the album was released, you said on an Instagram post, “I hope you find peace within the noise”. I find that to be a very deliberate and understanding statement towards these songs as a listener who gets to experience them, first from a distance, and then fully enveloped. Where do you find peace in the noise?
IK: I appreciate that first off. Secondly, I think I just find peace knowing that I was able to create something and was able to get any emotion outside of my body. I think it’s very peaceful to be able to play any instrument, or even sing. I think that always just brings peace to most creative, or at least musically inspired people. So yeah, in the process of creation, I found a lot of peace.
SR: As the primary producer and writer, did you find it important to play with the different dynamics and styles throughout the album? What was the thought process of going from shoegazey walls of sound to twangy acoustic porch tunes?
IK: Oh man, it was definitely a challenge. First, I think it was just a matter of really trying to figure out where vocals laid. I think a big part of Dizzy Spell was finally being confident with my voice and figuring out how to use it. I feel like in the past, especially in a live setting, I was very uncomfortable with my voice, but once we got to these songs I was very comfortable and I wanted to call that out in some points and really push myself vocally on this.
SR: We are big fans of Mark Scott and the whole villagerrr crew over here at the hug. He is featured on the song “Placebo”, which is quite a shift in the overall sound and experience of the album. Can you tell me about that song and how that collaboration came to be?
IK: There was a point in time where we still didn’t know how many tracks we wanted on the album. I think I just wanted everyone to weigh in and John [Martino] just ended up expressing that he wanted to potentially write something. A week or two later, he sent me a voice memo and it was just that guitar riff with that main line over it. I was like, ‘okay, this is cool, I also hear Mark on this.’ That was like a week or two after I’d already reached out to Mark just in terms of collaboration, because I wanted one or two other local artists on this. I had shown him a few of the tracks, and he was like, ‘I don’t really know where I’d fit at all on this’, and then John sent me that track and it worked out.
SR: There are a lot of moments where you describe global issues told through your own point of view and observations. Was approaching this writing lens through your own critical life moments a challenge?
IK: That’s a tough one, because I feel like I tried to, in the grand scheme of things, distance myself from my lyrics, and I try to see my lyrics as more of a way for others to interpret it however they want to interpret it. But I think over time, I also look back on my lyrics as more of, not a journal or diary, but kind of just like a placeholder and time of emotional check-ins with myself. A lot of these songs are framed around very specific mindsets and moments that, in passing and reflection, aren’t that heavy, but the heaviness comes from the repeated listens. So I think with time, I’ve grown more attached to some songs, and others I’ve almost outgrown. I think it kind of speaks to the broader idea that you’re speaking to where it just seems like there’s always distance involved. It’s my brain’s simplification of feeling lost in the modern day world and I think we’re all just feeling very disconnected from everything.
Abel
Do you guys have anything coming up that you are excited about?
We’re working on a tour in October which will just be a little 5 day tour with Devils Cross Country out of Cincinnati. We’re playing with Dogs on Shady Lane on August 28 at the Basement. Other than that, we’re playing new songs. We’re writing stuff all the time. I’ll probably release another rat race ∞ type thing with more poppy songs or just stuff we’re not as final about. Definitely lots going on.
Written by Shea Roney | Feature Photo by Dylan Phipps
Sleeper’s Bell, the Chicago-based folk duo of Blaine Teppema (guitar, vocals) and Evan Green (guitar) have shared their new single, “Road Song”, today. This release comes after the reissue of their debut EP, Umarell, via Angel Tapes / Fire Talk earlier this year, which included a separately released bonus single, “Corner”. Umarell, both concise and inviting, found Teppema in a place of still observation – where moments left open to breathe were both purposeful and reflective. Bringing her initial vision for the project into fruition, “Road Song” finds the duo in good company of collaborators, bringing out Green’s artistic production and Teppema’s open-ended lyricism with an array of cacophonous instrumentation and deliberate storytelling.
From the very click of the drum sticks, you can tell this isn’t going to be your grandmother’s Sleeper’s Bell track. Above a light instrumental shuffle, Teppema sings, “Spent so long on the road / I forgot there was somewhere to go,” as the chord progressions lean into minor tonalities – finding an edge that feels both strikingly new and incredibly fitting for the minimalist group. It isn’t long before a saxophone, played by Rufus Parenti, grumbles for resolution, bringing stamina to the emotions in Teppema’s wandering mind. “I caused another bitter end / ‘Cus all I needed was a friend,” she sings, giving a voice to the thoughts that lead when there is nothing left to entertain, just before the song comes to its abrupt and inevitable end.
About the song, Teppema shared in a statement;
“It’s partially about the sunk cost fallacy — you put so much time and energy into something that you forget you’re allowed to try something new. But then, sometimes, you put so much into something and then you’re a long way from where you started, and you have to figure out how to get back, or how to pivot.” She continues, “It’s also just about being a kid. I miss how visceral all my feelings were. I feel everything like that again when I’m driving long distances. And I listened to a lot of Townes as a kid, in the car with my dad. ‘Nothin’ was one of the first songs that ever made me feel sad. So I ripped that line from him and made it about me.”
Sleeper’s Bell will be performing in an Elliott Smith tribute performance on August 6th at Schubas Tavern in Chicago, IL. They will be performing alongside other Chicago acts such as Minor Moon, Half Gringa, Wet Skelly and Plus Plus.
“I almost forgot,” Olivia Wallace blurts out towards the end of our conversation. “I made a list of a couple local bands to shout out.” Reading from a prewritten list of local Chicago bands that have sparked some excitement for her – a moment of true music fandom;
“Well, Precocious Neophyte, they’re a shoegaze band from South Korea that lived in Chicago for awhile, but I think they’re moving away to Denver soon. They’re so good, they’re my favorite. Julia Morrison is a singer-songwriter I saw the other day. She’s so unique and unexpected in her vocals and lyrics. And then another local person I really like is Girl K, especially their foray into more pop oriented music. Super good.”
Olivia Wallace is the backbone behind the Chicago-based pop-rock project Sick Day. Earlier this year, Wallace and co. released their latest EP, Overexposure, under their new label home, Substitute Scene Records. As the follow up to 2022’s debut full length Love is a State of Mind,Overexposure rattles to the brim with soaring guitars and distorted anxiety. But cutting through the noise is an institution of pop melodies, as Sick Day turns moments of doubt and anguish into catchy one liners, relatable anecdotes and a pure enjoyment for loud music.
Whether putting together stacked local bills, hosting songwriting groups or photographing events, Wallace has a deep love and respect for the Chicago scene and the people who build it up. The conviction to relatability is crucial in her work – personifying, articulating and inviting shared experiences is not only a marking for mindful involvement, but a gesture to the community that Wallace wholeheartedly promotes. Made up of other Chicago musicians, Sick Day has become a local hub of heavy hitters and rock n roll softies alike, collaborating with artists like Ryan Donlin (Red Scarves, Chaepter), Jen Ashley (Cruel) and Robby Kuntz (Red Scarves, Old Joy) on drums, as well as a rotating cast of live players including Chaepter Negro (Chaepter) on cello and Kaity Szymborski as the groups new bass player.
Wallace and I recently got to catch up over coffee and a banana cream Danish to discuss the community that holds up the Chicago scene, the evolution of the Sick Day project and the importance of exposure in her songwriting.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity
Photo by Tracey Conoboy
Shea Roney: You’ve become a staple in the Chicago scene over the years, playing shows, collaborating with other artists and just being a big proponent for the community. What was your first exposure to local Chicago music and what stood out to you?
Sick Day: I didn’t start doing music for a few years after I moved to Chicago, but I feel like I didn’t really start to build that community until after COVID. It took me a while to, well, network is not the right word because it doesn’t feel like networking, but just becoming friends with people in the scene. Places like the golden dagger (RIP), friends’ house shows, and songwriting meetups that I had going a while back really helped.
SR: As someone so involved within it, where have you seen smaller bands struggle in this expanding and profit-driven industry?Are you still able to find hope in it all?
SD: As more and more of our public life takes place in online spaces mediated by tech corporations, it’s more important than ever to create real, personal community around the arts. Music is much more than a metric used for advertising and I’m somewhat afraid that musicians have internalized the backwards messages that apps like Spotify and Instagram have pushed upon us. The races for likes and streams and manufactured scarcity of popularity that leave people feeling atomized & undervalued. It’s so important for musicians to forge real-life connections because music isn’t about ego. It’s an extremely powerful spiritual force that makes the online narcissism factories look laughable. I do think the diversity of the music ecosystem is endangered, but I’m seeing more and more people craving real community in the arts, and that gives me hope!
SR: You have described yourself as a more solitary writer, but since the formation of the project, Sick Day has seen additions to your recording and live roster. How did this culmination of artists come to be?
SD: It takes a certain headspace of focus and like vortex of thought for me to really get into the songwriting space. So I write alone. The people on the EP are Ryan on lead guitar, who I’ve collaborated with a ton before, Robby on drums, and Jen on bass. I’ve played with them a lot in the past, and they’re amazing instrumentalists in that they pick up on songs so quickly. The final version of the song “It Hurts to Try” was probably Robby’s first time playing that song right before we went to the studio that day.
SR: There was a two year gap between the release of your debut LP Love is a state of Mind and Overexposure, marking a clear difference between the sonic build ups and performances in each. Did you find your writing or influences change between projects?Did your writing and recording process shift at all with more voices involved?
SD: Love Is a State of Mind was released in September of 2022 and we recorded Overexposure maybe six months later. It just took a while for the label to gather all the materials and set a release date, but I was recording pretty continuously in that time. Love is a State of Mind was all home recorded, and then we recorded some with Danny from CalicoLoco – it was all very homespun. Some of the songs were just demos that I recorded during the pandemic and it was just going to be raw, compared to my previous EPs, Deja Vu and Sleeping in the Dark, where I strove for a more professional sound. Overexposure was a bit of melding the two together. And I think Henry [Stoher] (Slow Pulp) and Keith [Douglas] were really good at capturing that idea amazingly. Keith was so professional when we were recording and then I worked with Henry via email, and he just has a gift for mixing things that sound both raw and so professional at the same time. I don’t know if it was a shift so much as a shift in how we recorded it. We recorded it all at once and I didn’t consciously think, like, ‘oh, I want to make a shoegaze record, or I want it to be grunge’. It’s just kind of how it turned out and evolved.
SR: Was there significance in revisiting the song, “Meet Me At The Park” a year or two after it was originally written? Does it sit differently with you now having worked on it twice?
SD: My friend Danny convinced me that this song has to be recorded with a full band. That first recording on Love is a State of Mind is something I just did real quick in my room. I appreciate both of the versions, but the full band version has so much life to it. The guy from Amplified Magazine said the demo version of “Meet Me At The Park” sounds like maybe I didn’t meet them at the park – then the full band version sounds like I met the person at the park [laughs]. That was definitely the simplest song I’ve ever written. It’s basically just a few chords, trying to be more hooky. I sometimes think about cognitive biases and psychology – there’s a thing called the mere exposure effect, which means the more you’re exposed to a certain stimulus, the more you just generally like it. And so applying that to songwriting, if you just repeat the same thing a lot, it’ll get more stuck in people’s heads. I’m not trying to like wield psychology [laughs], but it’s good to keep in mind.
SR: I find that psychological interpretation very interesting, it makes sense when it comes to melodies, but I can find it in your lyrics as well when you write about common struggles and the stimuli we get from them. In a way, that is another mere exposure effect, as you kind of highlight things that people experience day to day, building a personal attraction to your songs. This is brought out very well in the “Overexposure” music video.What were the ideas behind that video?
SD: I outsourced the music video to Kaity [Szymborski] who was super enthusiastic about making a video and she put her own spin on the meaning of overexposure. I love how she kind of parsed it down to a really mundane seeming detail, but it’s so relatable. If I was making the video, I might’ve gone for grander ideas or something, but it probably wouldn’t have hit as much as Kaity’s idea. And shout out to Lola’s Coney Island for letting us film there and being super nice and enthusiastic about wanting to be in the video.
SR: Does your own interpretation of the word ‘overexposure’ differ from Katie’s interpretation that is highlighted in the music video?
SD: I think it’s been hard to answer questions about the meaning of overexposure because I kind of channeled the song and wrote it in like 15 minutes. It felt really real and right and meaningful to write the lyrics and melody, but it’s strangely hard for me to put the meaning into prose. I wrote it more as a poem that is, in a way, rich with meaning but also it’s a song that I want the listener to feel, and interpret, on their own. It’s a different mindset and I try to make something really deeply relatable and also a little bit of amalgamation of experience, not just one detail of my life, but something that both resonates with me, but also with a potential audience.
SR: Since it’s been a few months since its release, what has it been like to play these songs live? I know you have a show coming up in Madison where you are only taking two cello players as opposed to your full band. Is there a formation that you feel brings out the songs better?
SD: They’re just totally different experiences. I played a strip down set with just me and Ryan the other day at a bar called Bernice’s and I was not expecting anything. I was thinking, ‘okay, we’re going to play and the people are just going to talk at the bar,’ but when we started playing, it was like a vortex that sucked the attention to the music. It was such a cool experience. But I think the main difference between full band and playing a stripped down set is that when with the full band, the lyrics sometimes get a little buried, but the spirit of the song really comes alive. Whereas when I’m playing stripped down, the lyrics really shine through and people can really hear each word and that’s really nice.
SR: Anything you have coming up that you are excited about?
SD: I’ve been recording an EP with an artist named Snow Ellet, which is a totally different process, just me and Snow Ellet to a click track. And then I’m trying to record an album of my earliest songs from when I was in my early twenties.
SR: Are you going to keep them as they are?
SD: I’m going to keep them as they are, but plan to just make the most of them. But yeah, my music from back then is not at all the same. It’s not worse, maybe, I don’t know [laughs], it’s got its own charm that’s just a little different.
Photo by Tracey Conoboy
Sick Day will be playing a full band set on August 10th at the Beat Kitchen along with All Weather Sports, dmb the etymology and Oyeme. Sick Day will also be headed to Madison, WI on September 13 to play the Snake on the Lake Festival (free of charge).
Written by Shea Roney | Featured Photo by Tracey Conoboy
Jeremy Mock has been a secret weapon to many bands up and down the East Coast (Bloodsports, Wesley Wolffe, Antibroth) for some time now. As a classically trained guitarist, Mock has offered performances ranging from clicky math rock riffs and rippers, acoustic runs and arpeggiated folk pickings to brash punk-loving, muscle-spazzing noise rock that adds texture and context to each band he plays in. But on his debut self-titled album, performed under the moniker of his Brooklyn-based solo project, face of ancient gallery, Mock plays to the somber intricacies that relish in our stillness, as his musicianship and storytelling filter through the bliss and anguish of day to days.
Although sparse in complexion, Mock pulls every emotion out of the simple atmospheric backdrops he conjures. With loose and alluring melodies and incredibly articulated guitar parts, Mock embodies the cerebral functions that shiver when left unattended. The steady guitar runs of “peregrine” and “laundromat” are haunting, but ground themselves in the physical foundation of the song – finding a balance between both the heavy intervals of loss and the honest reflection of healing. “Holding” is lighter, as distant synths build a natural, almost minstrel-esque affair of feeling stuck. “untitled” germinates with a steady eeriness, enticed by a lucid cello played by Chaepter Negro. The song soon blooms into a beautiful decree of self-prescribed patience, a recounting of one’s ability to be grounded within their changing surroundings.
“He took a face from the ancient gallery” always felt like a remarkably potent line written by Jim Morrison, muttered at the midpoint of The Doors’ epic album closer “The End”. Told to be following Oedipus Rex, a story foundationally flawed and greatly recounted, face of ancient gallery becomes a retelling, recounting that fine line between a fated fall and the path of free will that got you there. “infinity speak” toys with the word forever, when left to its own accord, can lose the weight of its very meaning. Even the album closer, “i’m going to go back there someday”, originally made famous by The Muppets, finds Mock’s presence immovable – the simple chord progression and shaky melody feels to slip away with each breath, but the gasps soon mark an individual effort to make it back.
Face of ancient galley is a perception – moments where constructed time doesn’t matter much anymore, but rather the shifting souls that live within these songs are the markings of presence. The opening track “Fever Blue” was written back in 2020 when Mock was only 19. Years later, the song is no longer attuned to his current worldview, yet keeping the original lyrics is a plea for honesty, a portrait that this project will learn to represent for years to come. In a gentle and earnest melody, “fever blue” is sobering – love in the face of an inevitable end, and in the wisp of Mock’s musicianship, it is a very welcoming place to be.
face of ancient gallery will be celebrating the release of the debut record with a show on 7/28 with Paint Horse and Alice Does Computer Music at Kaleidoscope in Brooklyn, NY.
Raavi, the Brooklyn-based project fronted by Raavi Sita, have always held an ear to earnest performance – the disciplined, yet expansive sonic approach tailored to fit neatly under Sita’s equally engaging lyricism has turned some heads the past few years to say the least. Today, Raavi has shared with us a new single, “Henry”, taking a more mellow path of contemplation than before, yet at no expense to the weight it holds. Along with the single, Raavi has announced their forthcoming EP, The Upside, set to be released September 13 via Mtn. Laurel Recording Co.
Under two minutes, “Henry” is a brief formulation of personal meditation and elegant musicianship that animates the revelations of sexuality and identity that Sita has encountered over the years. But leaning back into the stepping pattern of dancing guitars and flowing with the grace of traditional folk senses, “Henry” is ultimately a patient song – the ethos of collapsing time into a minute of cathartic bliss is something that feels ambitious in practice, yet so effortless at the hands of Sita’s storytelling.
In an instant, the song begins with a mutual understanding; “Don’t worry Henry / Your secret’s safe with me,” playing to a safety blanket, one with its edges frayed and its thinning, itchy material lacking substance. But as her bright and contemplative voice command’s the open space, singing to Henry in conversation, there forms a separation between the warmth of the tune and the suffocating feelings from the story within. It’s not long before the dialogue shifts, “Oh Henry you’re no friend of mine”, only heightened by the underlying string arrangements (Nebulous Quartet) that characterize the melody as Sita’s presence matures into where she is now.
Speaking on the song, Sita shared in a statement, “it’s about realizing I wasn’t being seen by the boys and men in my life as just myself, but as a girl first. I grew up androgynous, able to act like a chameleon to fit in with my male and female friend groups with relative seamlessness in which my tomboy gender expression, while definitely acknowledged by my peers, also gave me a freedom to exist in both gendered worlds to some degree. At some point this reality came crashing down on me.” She adds, “I experienced what I think a lot of gender nonconforming kids go through in that I went from being viewed as Raavi, to Raavi the girl and all the implications that being a girl comes with.”
Watch the official visualizer for “Henry” made by Callan Thomas.
Raavi will embark on a week-long run of tour dates with labelmates Sister. on 9/4, including a festival performance at Otis Mountain Get Down. The Upside is due to be released on 9/13 off of Mtn. Laurel Recording Co. with a limited-edition run of 7″ vinyl available for preorder now.
Written by Shea Roney | Feature Photo by Veronica Bettio
Every Friday, a staff member at the ugly hug curates a list of their five favorite new(ish) releases to share with us all. This week, singer-songwriter and team writer Claire Ozmun has put together a track list of chewy lyrical poise, fresh Sunday-morning anthems and brash noisy stunners for us to simmer in.
“Pay for it” by Kablamo
Before I learned this New Paltz-born band did indeed cut their teeth in college house shows, I sensed, in the best way, a DIY/sweaty-basement-show ethos when seeing them live. The trust Julia, Santi, Aidan, and Charlie have on stage seems instinctive. I listened to their recorded music on the walk home immediately after their set. There’s a specific sense of relief that washes over you when the recorded music of an artist you love live still resonates when you’re listening on your shitty $15 earbuds. Kablamo’s latest EP, GO, does not disappoint, in your earbuds or live. During their EP release show (in a Crown Heights basement in 90 degree weather, naturally), “Pay For It” got the folks moving. One of those special, tender mosh pits that bands with good people and good sound tend to forge. If you’re ever listening to MBV and want a little Bite, might I recommend this track. Julia is the lungs and also the heartbeat on Pay For It, and yes, she does both live which is a physical feat I can’t comprehend. Julia sings like a drummer and drums like a singer – there is a precision in her vocal lines and melodic feel to her drumming that I think is just so badass.
“(bitch) buy me some fries” by skwerm
There’s famously nothing better than a punk band from Ohio (unbiased opinion), and skwerm is not only carrying that torch, but reinventing/reigniting/throwing the damn torch away! Fuck the torch! This song has perfected the “Keep Claire Engaged” recipe. The introductory bassline has me hooked and on the edge of my seat. After a few measures, the rest of the band comes in and makes me want to do Mean Face while I walk. Zakiya and Osi’s vocals are powerful and emotive. Perfectly empowering/snarky/fun lyrics. This song also has some of the coolest tempo changes that I’ve heard in recent memory. This is skwerm’s debut single, and rumor has it they played their debut show less than a year ago. I’m not one for premonitions, but I’m sure hoping and suspecting we’re going to see a lot more from Osi, Nia and Zakiya and I’ll be watching from the front row!
“How Sensitive” by Caroline Davis, Wendy Eisenberg
Caroline and Wendy’s record, Accept When, is a 2-month-old newborn, and damn is it beautiful. I love how this whole album was recorded, and How Sensitive struck me from the first listen through. It doesn’t take but a second to know you’re listening to two absolute masters of their craft. The ways in which the guitar and saxophone interact, play with, and return to each other on How Sensitive are so beautiful it makes you stop what you’re doing to listen. The oscillations between minor and major chords/sustained and punctuated notes/playful and nostalgic melodies. This song would be well-paired with a slow-and-hot Sunday morning shower, in this listener’s opinion. The pair are on tour in support of the record for a few more days, so if you’re in the Midwest you should probably just drop everything and go to one of the remaining shows.
“Little Splinters” by Ok Cowgirl
Little Splinters is the first single from Brooklyn-based Ok Cowgirl’s upcoming debut album!! Lucky us!! Leah Lavigne’s voice is restrained, delicate, tough and big all at the same time. I love how this song grows. It introduces itself with succinct-but-evocative nuggets – it lets you in slowly and lets you establish the groundwork for yourself. It’s not obvious but it’s not hiding. By the end it has become an old friend, offering wisdom and reflection in a way that’s inquisitive and honest. It’s rock and roll with lyrics to sink your teeth into. “I have wasted years trying to escape fear / I have wasted years to let it go / But this year I wanna move in it like a muddy swamp” – woof. I can’t wait to hear this record!!!
“Holy Cow” by Harry J.
Man, from the first beat I just don’t want this song to end. This is one of those songs that puts you on an *insert your flying vehicle of choice* and leads you through at least 4 different dimensions. Somehow Harry makes it seem easy – there’s a distinct timbre to his voice that makes you feel like you’re on board with an experienced pilot. There’s just no way to describe the lyrical content of this song without the word “chewy” – and if you don’t know what I mean, listen and you will. The words just sound right together. Evocative and approachable, kind of like abstract art – you’ll know the words, but you probably wouldn’t have thought to put them together. With an impressive team of flight attendants (Stephen Rodes Chen, Julia Easterlin, Thomas Stephens, Mike Farrell, Tiger Darro, and Spencer Mackey on various instruments), rest assured you’ll land safely. But not before learning that music like this exists. I hear there’s more music to come and I’m getting in the TSA line now.
Written by Claire Ozmun
Humble brag about our team member alert! Claire Ozmun’s striking new EP, Dying in the Wool is set to be released on July 19! You can watch the music video for her latest single “I-90” which premiered last month here on the hug! You can preorder Dying in the Wool now!
Every Friday, a staff member at the ugly hug curates a list of their five favorite new(ish) releases to share with us all. This week, our writer, poet and member of newly formed punk group Big Garden, Autumn, shares with us “five Hot Hot Steamin’ Blazin’ Brand-Spankin-New Tracks to Sizzle onto your table and into your heart (or liver)”
“Rock & Roller Girl” by Liquid Images
Liquid Images is the tour de force of Cleveland rock n roll veterans Marty Brass (Ma Holos, Red Devil Ryders, Marty Brass & the Lavender Jets) and Richard Hamilton (musician, author, founder of Quality Time Records in 2014). “Rock & Roller Girl” comes from the duo’s debut album – which, in true punk style, packs seven songs into less than 18 minutes. This snack-sized smorgasbord was recorded in Downey, California over the course of 2021 to 2023, finally unleashed unto the eager masses earlier this year in January. It sounds like a record leisurely recorded by two friends who know what they’re doing, and it rocks.
Liquid Images’ self-titled album is a jammy, groovy departure from Brass and Hamilton’s earlier, (mostly) retired project, Pig Flayer (which is heavy and nasty and absolutely rules, if you can get your hands on one of the few remaining ‘45s). All seven tracks are jammy revelations you can sink your teeth into and shake your ass to, both, but “Rock & Roller Girl” stands out as the representative track of the whole lot, energetically.
Hamilton’s dreamy yet heavy-hitting vocal style oozes with honed punk power that’s been marble-chiseled by time and experience into a pied piper rally cry that’ll make a believer outta you yet, you silly stuck-in-your-ways sensible shoegaze softies. Get freaky and give this one a spin (and thank me later).
“Spend It All” by The Oystermen
Don’t let the whole alternative-teen-groupie-Thorazine-lapsang-souchong look fool you. This writer gets down to a good ole stompin’ bluegrass hootenenay hit from time to time – but it has to be pretty damn good to pull me away from my regularly scheduled brooding cuppa the aforementioned lapsang souchong (I know who I am). “Spend It All” by Brooklyn’s newest bluegrass super-force is that good.
This red-hot track just dropped a few weeks ago, and lyrically, it’s a masterpiece. Frontman Stanley holds it down and pushes it up with jaunty harmonica and driving acoustic guitar, but more than his lively, boot-stompin’ delivery, it’s his words that walk home with you after the show’s over. The chorus rips in with the proverb, “Get a whole lotta money, spend it all havin’ a good time.” This is the new national anthem, or at least the song of the summer. “Stay out all night listenin’ to the rest of the album, it’s gonna be a blast. Go back home tomorrow mornin’, and then you can crash. Doctor said I should count some sheep, I said ‘Whaddo I look like, Little Bo Peep?’ C’mon listen to the rest of the album.” *harmonica solo* Finally, a track you and your dad’s friends can all get down to.
…and The Oystermen’s trumpet player deserves his own write-up. Every band in New York that’s been looking for a trumpeter is going to writhe and lament when they hear this one.
“MASS APPEAL” by Nat Cherry and Braxtino
This dark, toothy groove dropped just two weeks ago, and I’ve already spun it at least 50 times. Longtime punk rocker Nat Cherry and soulful guitar god Braxton (Smith Taylor, Black Lazarus) joined forces for a soon-to-be cult classic track that, frankly, doesn’t look like any of the tunes either of them have put out before now.
“MASS APPEAL” is for folks who discovered Nico’s “Chelsea Girls” in their teens, graduated to the realm of Siouxsie and the Banshees and Nina Hagen in their twenties, and are now looking for what’s next. Your search is over, lovers. Nat Cherry’s deep, round, lilting drone pulls the trip forward through heavy synth and a brick-laying drum beat. Braxton brings the smooth polished vocals in just the right places, but those places are few. No one is over-singing or over-performing here, and that’s what makes this track so deliriously cool. It hits because it hits, and no one is doing backflips to catch your attention. They don’t have to.
Hopefully, “MASS APPEAL” is the scintillating promise of more to come from this Brooklyn-based duo. My loved ones are becoming strangers as the mouth-foaming jones for a full EP ravages my body (please god more).
“G Bus” by Tired Horses
The single, “G Bus,” dropped in 2023, and Tired Horses edged their loyal following of jazz-horny clean cut acid freaks with a live album recorded at Hidden Fortress in Philly. Now, it’s 2024 and we’re ready to climax. Give us the manna from heaven, Steely Dan.
This freewheelin’ psychedelic fantasia of acid jazz is just what the doctor ordered in two ways: It’s the antidote to the singer-songwriter-mania that’s oversaturated the New York music scene since the pandemic, and listening to it will make you live forever. Whether folks know about it or not, Tired Horses is already a supergroup – but ultra-niche-lovin’ music heads (you know who you are) will want to pounce on this one now if they want to say they knew about the horsies before they were big. Savant guitarist Cameron Criss (Ruby, Buga, the Claire Ozmun Band), saxophonist Mike Talento, bassist Alex Tvaroch, Jack Gruber on keys, and Szecso Szendrody on drums fill a space and keep it filled so effortlessly that you won’t even miss a singer.
Tired Horses did something truly special with “G Bus” by capturing that delicious live sound without it going flat. All those groovy layers are preserved in amber – and for New York groovers who wanna shake some action in-person, the band has a residency at Troost bar in Greenpoint. They play a totally original set on the first Monday of every month and there’s no door fee.
“What Money?” by Crystal Egg
Curtis Godino makes the organ sexy. “Organ” as in the instrument, aka the cooler older sister of the piano. This Nashville band hit the stage for the first time in April 2023, but Crystal Egg is already dripping with style. “What Money?” is the group’s only recorded track on music streaming platforms (and it just dropped in April) but they already landed a spot opening for the Lemon Twigs on their most recent tour a few months ago. Also, the anti-capitalist canticle of “What Money?” effortlessly captures the rage-gut-punch of wanting to be a part of something awesome but getting disenfranchised with a door fee and, gasp, being broke.
Dream-queen Jess McFarland’s avant-garde bohemian vocals melds with futuristic flair from Godino’s one-of-a-kind synth stylings for what can only be described as the intersection of poetry and chaos. There really aren’t any other bands to compare Crystal Egg to, and what a feat. They could quit now and already be a legend. But, the hypersonic life force behind their tunes and off-stage creative tsunami (Godino runs Drippy Eye Projections and a gag toy company called Jester Trading Co., and McFarland is a master seamstress and clothing designer) suggests that there’s much, much more to come from these Nashville newcomers.
Carolina Chauffe is the creative guide behind the ever evolving project, hemlock. Growing up in Lafayette, Louisiana, Chauffe has been untethered to one place, letting opportunities decide where they move next as they plant roots from Louisiana to Texas, the Pacific Northwest and Chicago, spooling connections in every direction that their presence and spirit touches.
Earlier this year, hemlock released the six-track mini-album, Amen!, off of Hannah Read’s [Lomelda] label Double Yolk Record House. It’s a touching piece of work, a contusion of the heart, as Chauffe and friends create a simple, yet indescribably intense record of placement, connections and the spirit of being.
I recently caught up with Chauffe as they house-sit for Lindsey Verrill [Little Mazarn] in Austin, Texas. Having done the classic layered questioning before in a past interview with hemlock, I wanted to try something new this time around. Only preparing one question, what followed became a stream of consciousness, retelling the story of not only how Amen! came to be, but how Chauffe’s patient and stunning observational process creates a clear focus of the artistry and bonds that connect their world.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Artwork by Church Goin Mule
Shea Roney: I felt an emotional connection to Amen! before I even got a chance to listen to it because of the stunning album artwork by Church Goin Mule. In the bottom corner, it reads, “I didn’t know where I was headed – only forward! What a miracle to keep going, keep asking and to keep finding out! Amen!” So my question is, what defines a miracle to you in your life?
Carolina Chauffe: That’s such a beautiful question. In a moment of such dissonance globally, it can seem harder and harder to keep a grasp on magic. You’re also catching me in a very tender moment, where I’ve just come to a brief resting place between tours, and today is the first day that I can even begin to process this past week’s miracles. It’s all hitting me now with how relevant and intense this question is.
On a good day, the question is answered with another question; what’s not a miracle?
This album is a miracle to me. It was, in many ways, a gift of a lot of time and energy and collaboration with some of my heroes, especially in a year where I promised myself I would lean more into collaboration. I think that community is a miracle. To lean into the trust that someone or something or somewhere will always catch you, and to be proven time and time again that that is true. In a lot of ways, a miracle is also a testament to human goodness as well. So I believe it’s equal parts faith and magic and reciprocity and trust. But there’s a difference between man made miracles, which need a conscious amount of intention and a lot of courage and hard work. And then there’s the miracles that are just links that appear from the ether and reinforce that you’re on the right path. I think that for me, making music and just continuing on living requires both of those miracles to meet each other and get really well acquainted, almost blurring the lines between where one ends and the other begins.
Amen! came from that kind of perfect storm. Taking the general upheaval of my life and all of the silver linings that followed from getting out of a partnership and leaving Chicago where I lived for three years. It was so hard, but it was true. I think that can often be the form a miracle takes as well. It was the choice I needed to make.
At the time I was leaving Chicago, moving via tour with Merce Lemon down south and heading back over to Austin, Lindsey caught me in this nest that I return to over and over again, letting me stay in this shed that her and her dad built together in the backyard.
Tommy Read offered to record the album in Silsbee, Texas. We had never met before, but he was going off of the good word of Lindsey and Hannah. All I knew was that we had four days on the calendar blocked out, and I didn’t know what it was gonna be, but I knew what shape I wanted it to take – I had trust in that. I played through the songs the eve before recording, and Tommy was like, ‘those are the ones that we’re gonna do’, and the track list made itself. That was miraculous in its own way, trusting the album to make itself with the help of a lot of really tender hearts.
Amen! also bridged my transformation geographically, as a couple of the songs are from Chicago right before I left, and the other couple are from living in Lindsey’s shed. A couple of the others came from a tour that I was on last summer with one of my best friends, Clara [Lady Queen Paradise], who is one of the deepest and most intense inspirations in my life.
Photo by Oscar Moreno
That connection is miraculous as well. In 2018, Clara was on a double solo tour with Ode (playing under the project ‘bella’) as they came through Louisiana. I was coming back from a road trip and we decided to stop at a house show happening at this spot called Burger Mansion in Baton Rouge. I didn’t know who was on the bill, so we showed up and it happened to be Clara and Ode. I’ve never seen anyone do a double solo tour before. It was not something that I knew could happen. They came all the way down from Providence, Rhode Island to Louisiana in their car with one shared guitar and it blew my mind. My first tour ever ended up being a double solo tour the next year. A year from that date I had taken that dream and taken that vision, and just ran with it, but they were the one who materialized it. I had never observed it before and it obviously changed my life, because I’m still doing it. Flash forward five years later, Clara and I ended up going on tour, and almost to the date, we were doing our own double solo tour. The songs “Eleanor” and “Prayer” were written on a day off between shows. I was just sitting and riffing on my friend’s porch in Portland.
Capturing Amen! felt like a miraculous return to the South for me. It felt important to be recording in Silsbee, which is actually the midpoint between Austin and Lafayette. There’s the connection between everywhere I’ve lived in my life within these songs. There are songs influenced from the Pacific Northwest, from Chicago, from the deep South – it includes and melds so many different places and times – past selves, present selves and future selves.
Lindsey, Kyle and Carolina | Photo by Hannah Read
The only person that I knew in a true way before recording was Lindsey, but we all got to know each other through the making of this very precious and sacred feeling together. We mutually believed in each other so deeply, and that is absolutely priceless. I’d met Kyle Duggar, who plays drums on Amen!, only in passing a few times, but he came to make a record with me in full blind trust. No one knew the songs. I hardly knew the songs. We just played through them a few times each and captured them as they were, and it was exactly what it was supposed to be. The energy of the room was so special and playful and intentional. I felt really in touch with the miracle of trust from every angle of that whole recording session, because so many of us were just meeting for the first time, and we made something so intensely beautiful and straight to the point. Whatever the point is.
While recording, we would look out the window to this field of mules that was outside the studio. I’ve always been such a fan of Church Goin Mule, but at this point, it felt like a very obvious connection and sign that I need to reach out to her. When I asked Mule about collaborating for that beautiful painting that is the cover, I was going to initially commission a new original work, but that ended up falling through because we both ran short on time and energy, – but it really didn’t even matter to me because I knew what piece I wanted. Once the album was recorded, it was just obviously the cover – I finally had consciously put them in the same space. The sentence ends in the bottom right corner with the word “Amen”, and the record ends with the word “Amen” – they just seemed to be married to each other. It’s like the miracle of kinship.
I met Mule years ago in my hometown of Lafayette while she was doing a residency at a gallery. I remember being so stunned by her work. I was probably still in high school, so that’s just another through line to the origin point of inspiration, stretching onward almost half a decade to the point of finally being able to collaborate. I actually just got to see Mule for the first time in so many years this past week. She showed up with a bundle of sketches from the time that we were gonna collaborate on an original commission for the album cover. It was this manila envelope full of sketched mules and phrases that I could tell she jotted down as she was listening through my songs for the first time. I cried.
That was the case for recording with Hannah and Lindsey and having collaboration with Mule for the visual art. All these ties that I had open for so long were now tying themselves into a nice little bow. Lots of full circle moments; miracle moments.
Photo by Jake Dapper
Clara texted me recently and said, “home is something you carry with you.” I think that’s a miracle too. I think it’s true and it takes a lot of people to carry one person’s home. When you’re like me and sleeping in a different bed most nights, it doesn’t feel like a sole weight to bear. It’s shared among many pairs of shoulders. That’s utterly miraculous.
I always wanted a pair of red converse high tops when I was a kid, and I never was able to get a pair. I just played a show in New Orleans at this record store’s last show before they closed (long live White Roach Records!) and they were selling these red chucks there. And I was like, ‘okay, you know, the universe has spoken’ [lifting their foot to show off the new chucks].
The connections that people have had to this record, whether it’s feeling pulled towards the visual art or feeling pulled towards the music, it just never gets any less awe inspiring to me the ways that people can receive the work that I am sharing. I’d be sharing it whether or not anyone listens. And the fact that it does resonate, not only with friends, but on the far ends of that spectrum, total strangers and also my heroes, is such a source of faith and hope for me. It makes me feel like I am where I am meant to be.
I was just in Fayetteville for a weekend playing Old Friends Fest. That whole weekend, we had maybe five drops of rain. I was out of service for three days, and when I re-entered civilization, I had all these texts like, ‘are you okay?’ Apparently there were tornadoes all around the festival, and we were just out on our own little plane ten miles off the gravel road. There’s some miraculous force field that can protect you from the woes of man and the woes of the earth sometimes. But I mean, when the woes do hit you, it just takes the miracle of community to pull you back out.
Carolina and Kyle | Photo By Hannah Read
I’m just thinking about when you say the word miracle, to me the vision that I see in my mind immediately jumps to a sun glint on water. It’s a meeting of elements that creates a perfect image or feeling. All these places where the elements combine to bring observance to what was already there in a different shape, that emphasizes the magic and the wonder and the awe of it all. At the heart of a miracle is collaboration between something, whether that be forces, people, elements, or a combination – miracles take active observation; they require observance. There’s so much to observe right now around us, some of it so heartbreaking and impossible to process consciously. But then there’s also the opposite of that; the weekend at the festival with tornadoes all around us where all we could see was beautiful lightning, or the backyard shed that still has your quilt in it after you return months later. I don’t know. If I didn’t believe in a miracle I wouldn’t be here, right?
the ugly hug 