Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by New York based project My Wonderful Boyfriend.
Today, My Wonderful Boyfriend shared new single, “I’m Your Man”. Before listening, I speculated it might be some sort of redemption for the penultimate track on An Evening With…, the EP that the Brooklyn based four piece shared earlier this year. That track – titled “Here Comes Your Man”, is a yearning drenched unraveling that pulls from the perspective of, well, not being someone’s man. My Wonderful Boyfriend has a knack for attaining sincerity through those charmingly arbitrary slacker-rock song structures, generating emotional friction through cavorting melodies and raw vocals prone to bouts of excessive repetition. This spills into “I’m Your Man”, leaving the contents of the track a lot less absolute than the title may suggest.
Despite its lyrical ambivalence and housed introspections of “I’m shaky because I’m not quite sure I’m your man”, the track in itself is far from timid. “I’m Your Man” starts on a punchy, over-caffeinated note and still manages an impressive build up over its five minute life span. It’s cushioned with charged da-da-da-da‘s and a stint of hallelujah’s, of which ultimately lead to MWB cramming twenty-and-some-change declarations of “i’m your man” within the track’s final thirty seconds. Whether “I’m Your Man” is a redemption or a continuation or ultimately entirely unrelated to the pining found on their January release is not something I can confidently conclude. What I can tell you, and with confidence, is that it is a damn good song. However, if my opinion is not enough for you to give it a listen (fair enough), then the track’s inspiration playlist – which jumps from Jane Remover to Playboi Carti to Pulp to Wilco – should do the trick.
About the playlist, My Wonderful Boyfriend shared;
“We started out trying to build a playlist of direct influences on “I’m Your Man,” but I guess had too much fun and went with more general influences and songs that make us excited to play, write, and listen to music.”
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Brooklyn-based band Ringing.
If you are fond of distortion and reside in New York, chances are you have caught a Ringing set. The Brooklyn based four-piece has a knack for bathing introspective lyricism and spiraling melodies in rich sludgy atmospheres — a feat found in their live shows as well as their 2023 EP, Is It Light Where You Are?
Listen to Ringing’s playlist here!
You can check out Ringing on Bandcamp below!
Written by Manon Bushong | Featured Photo by Avery Davis
The first time we featured Lefty Parker in the Ugly Hug, it was for his visual art. He shared a few posters in a show flyer feature of our Newsletter, done in his medium of choice – Etch a Sketch. Its a creative tool that certainly garners novelty points, and anyone who has dabbled in one of those red boxes in their lifetime can attest to the fact that creating anything legible on there is an impressive feat in itself. But what Lefty is able to do on Etch A Sketch, and his ability to hone so much life through mere two dimensional scratches, is breathtaking. In a world pulverized by stimulation, it can often feel the price tag to attention is a never-ending slew of hollow maximalism. It’s exhausting, which is why I think today more than ever, we crave art that subverts excess. Art that is grounded in imperfection and art that takes a step back. I think that is what makes the “Etches” Lefty does so moving; the depth of sensitivity found in a portrait or animal or shower head juxtaposed against the perceived limits and simplicity of the medium. I would urge you to check them out if you have not yet.
This post is about Lefty’s music, but I choose to lead with that context because I like the parallels between his crafts. Today, Lefty announced his forthcoming record, Ark, sharing lead single, “Illusions”. It’s a story of staggering heartache through a deeply human lens; of asking the sky for answers, of the achey impacts of a memory saturated town, of the inescapable wear and tear that comes with being alive. Featuring Buck Meek, “Illusions” leaves a stubborn mark in the same way that Lefty’s Etch A Sketch pictures do – as tender vignettes unravel on a familiar folk canvas, the track is profound and touching without any sort of gimmicks. It rewards intentionality; with each listen the soft woodwinds and warm twangy melodies grow in beauty while the harmonized somber vignettes cut deeper. By rooting itself in an earnest simplicity, “Illusions” captures yearning in its most honest and delicate form. It’s refreshing and complex, and a lovely sliver of the kind of calloused storytelling we can expect from Ark.
Ark will be out October 24th. You can listen to “Illusions” now.
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by LA-based artist Izzy Hagerup of the project Prewn.
Following the release of 2023’s debut LP Through The Window, Hagerup has just announced her follow up album titled System, out October 3rd via Exploding in Sound. The music that comes from Prewn is as deliberately harsh as it is instinctively beautiful. Through The Window bound together lush textures and open spaces by building trusting relationships with dissident sound structures and absorbent lyricism. Prewn’s pulse continues to pump with the release of “System”, the first single off the upcoming album and accompanied by a music video directed by Sophie Feuer.
“System” opens like a cold sweat, where thick, briny strings dribble down like beads; dribble farther down your face than you would often allow before wiping away. It’s a moment that feels stuck in time, one that deliberates between peace of mind and a piece of mind that can’t quite fall into place. As the strings begin to take shape, offering a counterbalance to Hagerup’s melodic fortitude, you want to say that it sweeps you up into a dream-like state, but this is real life, and she knows that. The song soon breaks off as Hagerup belts, “just give your life away”, a chorus of searing words that give voice to the internal conflicts between mental struggles and the buttoned-up expectations that are often placed on us. It’s a stunning track that builds upon frustration with such intent as Hagerup’s singular voice becomes the benchmark for retainment and release, slowly bringing us back to that same moment of stillness from which we began.
About the playlist, Hagerup shared;
“Some songs that I’ve come back to again and again over the years”
Listen to the playlist here;
Listen to System here!
System is set to be released October 3rd via Exploding In Sound. You can pre-order the album now as well as on vinyl.
I have a tendency to fall into anecdotal rambling when I try to write about a project I find especially moving. This achilles heal is most inflamed when a song makes me cry – which does not happen super often – but when it does, I have to fight the urge to cite my own tears. It’s usually a desperate attempt to articulate the gravity of a track without turning to some dry technical dissection, but it doesn’t matter. No one gives a shit about the time I cried at my roommate’s roller blading competition, seated in a patch of grass above the park with Shallowater’s There is a Well in my ratty noise-cancelling headphones. So I will not tell you about it.
What I will say is that Houston based Shallowater is not doing anything new. At least not in a way I can cite on paper. Their soundscapes are familiar and rather organic, and I could write a laundry list of band comparisons ranging from emo and posthardcore to alt-country and slowcore, and they would all be valid. I suppose that is the real root of this apprehensive music journalism crisis I have so generously decided to include in this single review – the chasm between the abstractly unprecedented feel of a band and a reality that they are not technically doing anything unheard of. But perhaps that is the foundation for the most touching projects; an ability to pull from motifs seen countless times before and churn it into something that stops you in your tracks.
Today, Shallowater shared “Sadie”, the second single off their forthcoming record, God is Going to Give You a Million Dollars. The track starts on a gentle note, finding its footing in drawn out enunciations and a cautious rhythm section. As vocals grow in urgency, the soundscapes inflate into an eventual riff –lathered with mucky distortion, indulgent percussion, and a suffocating amount of poignancy. In the span of seven and a half minutes, Shallowater pursues this sort of escalation more than once, leaving you unsure of which buildup is the buildup. Perhaps the answer is neither? Perhaps the mud-slides of twangy sludge are less a destination than they are a means of amplifying slivers of delicacy and desperation between them. In the case of “Sadie”, soft vocals tend to cut deepest when they follow moments of sweeping cacophony. It’s enough to subdue even the sturdiest of poker faces.
You can listen to “Sadie” everywhere now, and pre-order God’s Gonna Give You A Million Dollars on Bandcamp.
“They also have seasonal shake thingies, and they’re just… I mean it’s melted ice cream. It’s ‘mint milk’. I think they also have a creamsicle one. They make you feel so sick. Just 900 calories of milk based drink.”
Peter Lukach of mall goth is discussing the delicacies available at Stewart’s – a gas station dispersed throughout Upstate New York. It was the first I had ever heard of this institution, despite the fact that I also grew up in “New York but not New York”.
What constitutes “Upstate” is a tired debate. Some deem it anything between the final stop on the Wakefield-241st St. bound 2 train and the Canadian border. Others believe in more complex distinctions for non-metropolitan New York, arguing that it consists of Western and Central New York, Upstate, and my home territory of ‘Downstate’. Some give the debate – and the idea of New York beyond the five boroughs – little to no thought at all.
If you have read any features I have done in the past, you might notice a pattern of questions about a band’s respective home. It usually stems from a place of my own curiosity; sometimes I find myself more intrigued by the idea of a scene than the actual music the scene in itself nurtures. The ways an environment can be reflected in the contours of a band’s melodies, or how influences of other artists in the vicinity can pull an unexpected sound out of a project. I also ask from an idyllic place – hoping to hear the ways in which a band’s surroundings have marinated into their art, optimistically seeking some confirmation that the internet has yet to push this notion into extinction.
My conversation with mall goth was seasoned with Upstate trivia. I learned the apple cider donut was invented in Albany. They sometimes serve a raspberry sauce with their mozzarella sticks. Binghamton has an exciting music scene, though it often feels fleeting given the rapid member turnover that is inherent to a college town. Albany is more robust in that regard, home to projects that have cultivated beyond a four year term and a community with a good heart.
From my intel on local scenes, I have also become familiar with certain rites of passages that triumph variables like whether you took a subway or yellow bus to middle school. Falling in love with an album and building relationships from the seed of shared music interest is one of the most prominent. In the case of mall goth, this was initially Plumtree, though as their inner band relationships have grown and expanded, so have their auditory pallets. They told me about their intrinsic love for “loud-quiet” dynamics in guitar-forward bands, citing Weezer and the Pixies as mutual staples. They also enthused about short term phases, which helped to paint a picture of their curious natures as individuals, as well as the influence of their enthusiasms have on each other.
Their latest EP is the band’s fullest release yet – both sonically and in a more abstract sense. It ventures down an experimental and emotional path, clearing space for individual inspirations and perspectives while ultimately remaining grounded to the project’s sturdy spine. Out last week, Heather’s Exit is a vulnerable reflection on how even the simplest lived experiences shape us, as mall goth molds imagery of old Tupperware, rainbow sprinkles and white mildew into a cathartic listen, bleeding with honesty and nuance.
We recently sat down with mall goth to discuss the project’s roots, inspirations and Heather’s Exit.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Manon: I’m so excited to talk about this EP, it is so fun and such a confident and full version of this sound that you have been cultivating, but first I would love to hear about the background of mall goth. How did you all start playing music together?
Ella: Peter and I met in a music theory class in college. He posted a song by Plumtree on his Instagram Story.
Peter: I swiped up and was like “I love Plumtree!” And [Ella] was looking to make a new band. I was in a band but it wasn’t very serious and I was not super involved in the creative process, so I was looking for something different.
Ella: Yeah I stole him. I was also living next to a friend named Sam so the three of us started playing and then I met Kensho and stole him from a friend’s band too, as our drummer. The four of us started playing, and as the years have unfolded, we’ve just gone through a few lineup changes. Katie has been drumming with us for about a week and a half – she’s really fucking good. Justin has been playing with us since the fall.
Manon: How long have you been in Albany?
Ella: I have lived in Albany my whole life, but we officially relocated in June.
Manon: So is Heather’s Exit your first release since you moved?
Ella: Yeah. It’s funny because we mentioned our lineup has changed so much, so the EP process took a lot longer than we anticipated. But we’re excited for this chapter and to just put this music out there, we have been sitting on these songs for about a year. So we are excited, and having Katie join us has brought a different vibe to the songs – it made them feel fresh again in some ways.
Manon: Heather’s Exit has such a great coming of age feel – there is so much change, growth and nostalgia all wrapped up in a jangly, dream-pop sound. I know you mentioned you have been sitting on these songs for a while,
Ella: In terms of writing lyrics, it’s probably the most honest and raw I have ever been. It felt good to just talk about things that make you the way you are. I was really inspired by Wednesday’s Rat Saw God when I was writing. I just love how Karly Hartzman is so honest, and every song unfolds a story. That was the biggest inspiration for “Crawl Space”, also “Ribs” by Lorde. When we were working on Heather’s Exit, I really wanted to make sure the synths were building large soundscapes.
Manon: All of that certainly comes through on the EP. Your imagery is so intense and I also like the way it tends to parallel the soundscapes – I like the rainbow sprinkles and flowers against the melodically upbeat nature of “Your Garden”, versus the mentions of spoiled food on the darker and more experimental “Heather’s Exit”. I did want to ask about that one specifically, and why you chose to end the EP on that track?
Ella: That’s a great question. I feel like the EP descends from happy into, almost scary.
Peter: I think the lyrics helped propel it to that point too.
Ella: Yeah, we felt like although “Your Garden” has some gloomy undertones, it mostly feels like a sugarcoated, candy song. “Crawspace” is then a good bridge into “Marionette”, which is just loud, quiet, loud, quiet. I wanted that one to have imagery of a puppet getting ready in a dressing room – just this idea of being guided by what others think of you. As for “Heather’s Exit”, that one is kind of hard to put into words. There is a lot of nuance, and I ultimately want the music to speak for itself, and for people to have their own experience when they listen.
Manon: The EP has such gorgeous cover art too, who did it?
Ella: My friend, Eliza Waylon. I know her from high school, she is a fantastic painter and I thought that piece really fit our aesthetic perfectly. I’m so grateful she let us use it.
Manon: I know you mentioned some lineup switches. Would you consider your songwriting dynamic collaborative, and if so how have those changes affected it?
Ella: When we started the band I had some songs under my belt, so initially I was like “hey, do you guys want to play these songs I wrote?” Since then we have definitely built upon it, and in terms of what things ultimately sound like, everyone adds their parts. I am really excited to see what happens going forward, and we definitely want it to become more collaborative. We were really chasing a dreamy sound, and have since been returning to our roots which has been very inspiring.
I would say my familiarity with the concept of a “baby tee” is above average. That may be the strangest brag I’ve put to paper, but after nearly two years working as a copywriter for a clothing brand bearing 2000’s roots, I feel I have earned the right — if you can even consider it a “right”. However, as frequently as “baby tee” has infiltrated my day to day endeavors, monopolized conversations and more or less paid my rent, it was not until my conversation with Em Margey that I considered the concept in a matter that went deeper than the seams. I left our park chat pondering the implications of an adult shirt that intentionally fits like a child size, of the influx of Depop sellers scouring Goodwill’s youth section for a cheeky graphic tee, of the nostalgic appeal behind the brand I work for.
Sentimentality motivates into behavior far beyond wardrobe choices. Though not inherently a bad thing, the line between nostalgia and comfortability is thin. When is holding on a sign of fortitude, and at what point does it begin to hold us back? These questions are a few of the ruminations that fuel Em Margey’s project, Youth Large. Toeing between tender yearnings and angsty insolence, Youth Large is an ever changing capsule of growth, change and acceptance. As deeply personal as Em often gets, their songs ultimately lean familiar – offering an experience that feels lived in, beautifully calloused and refreshingly human.
Em began creating music when they were twenty years old, the DIY spirited seeds of their project tracing back to a guitar purchase and open mic nights in New Jersey. “I just kind of got a guitar one day and then started writing songs, pretty much immediately,” they tell me. “Before it was Youth Large my project was called Emma Blue Jeans. And as angsty as my stuff is now – which I would say is really angsty – it was times a hundred back then. I was subjecting random groups of people in suburban New Jersey to some intense stuff.”
A huge part of the learning curve is tied to valuing community and leaning on friends for help, despite the vulnerable nature of their music. Their bandcamp claims most of their songs begin as introspective lullabies that come to life with the help of friends, an experience that Em deems “really heartwarming.”
“If I bring a song to a friend who plays in my band, it feels like you’re explaining an idea for a movie and then someone else starts to make the movie in front of you – that’s what it feels when they start playing parts on their instruments,” they explain. “At the same time it can be a scary thing because it’s so personal. I think I can have a really specific vision and it’s very sensitive to tell your friends what to do and how to play while also giving them creative free will, it’s a fine line.”
Friendship also plays a role in Youth Large’s live form, which has evolved in its own ways over the years. “I love performing. It’s my favorite part of the project,” they tell me. “Usually when I write a song, I’ll kind of sing it around my room, and pretend I’m on a stage. Playing it life does feel like I’m just moody and in my room and expressing myself. I think it has taken a while to find what my stage presence is, not that I’m thinking about that all the time. Not having to play guitar and being fully in my body on stage has been really freeing, and I think it makes me feel a lot more connected to my songs on stage.”
As much growth can be detected through Youth Large in the project’s five years of existence, Em is far from done pushing themselves. “I’m definitely working on an album right now. It’s in its early aughts. I have been writing a lot more, but I also still really like the songs from the EP. That’s a new feeling for me – to still resonate with stuff I have put out,” they explain. “I kind of want to make a mini EP completely by myself as a challenge, because I think I lean on a lot of people for support and to understand how music works, because I truly have no background in it. I have been just figuring out as I go in a DIY way, which is cool, but I did want to challenge myself and make a project completely on my own.”
When I asked Em about their decision to rename the project, they explained Youth Large had been the name of an early EP they released, though they felt the notion fit the core ethos of their music perfectly. “Thematically, most of my music aligns with overgrowth childhood experiences pouring into what we all feel, so I felt it was a good umbrella term for the project.”
Although my little tangent on baby tees ties into Youth Large in a very literal sense, it is less about the physical article of clothing than a series of curious threads that hold them together. As angsty as Youth Large can be, the project is ultimately grounded by two ethos; patience and acceptance. For Em, Youth Large is a means to dissect, warp and rework. Sometimes, this means testing how far things can stretch, molding fragments from and giving them a chance to thrive in a sensical new form. Other times, it is a means of mourning, internal conciliations, and letting go for the sake of growth.
You can listen to Youth Large’s latest EP, Honeysuckle, below.
Written by Manon Bushong | Photo by Angelo Capacyachi
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Tijuana-based musician Daniela Sandoval of the project Surcarilita.
As a duo, including collaborator Ana Cossio on drums and singing saw, Surcarilita invites you with open arms into their singular space, a hand-crafted diorama of the world around us built with sonic tinkerings, melodic reflections, glitter and a whole lot of magic. The tunes of Surcarilita play like a coloring book, where distorted guitars doodle outside the lines and Sandoval and Cossio’s colorful textures and loose melodies bring a new and exciting life to an already existing image. These are songs that feel like the unpredictability of a bowl of alphabet soup, a handmade home for creepy crawlies to catch some z’s, a nursery for growing pains and cat therapy, the pure joy of individual success and the love for creativity.
About the playlist Daniela shared;
ever since i realized i could be in a band, i’ve wanted to be in a band. these are some songs by bands that would have accelerated my urge to be in a band had i heard them when i was 15. they are sweet, short and you can sing them in the shower if you like
Sometimes the most harrowing heart break tracks are not necessarily the most immediate. Rather, they draw from a wound that is neither fresh nor healed, loitering in a state of emotional limerence and nourished more by romanticized illusion than reality. Think Yo La Tengo’s “My Heart’s Not In It” or “Antenna” by Sonic Youth. What makes these narratives so brutal lies in their inward nature – when dust settles and time dulls at the ration behind a relationship’s dissolution, there is space from a “what if” shaped hole begging to be filled with one’s own yearning. Or, in the case of bloodsports, patched up with a surge of jagged percussion. Out today, “Rosary” nods to the wistful sensitivity that lies beneath an enamel of exasperated song structures and tough sounding band name, as bloodsports paves a robust buildup sure to knock out even the worst case of self-inflicted longing.
“Rosary” comes as the lead single for bloodsports’ debut record, Anything Can Be A Hammer, announced today as well. The track builds on feats found in bloodsports’ existing discography – the melodic tensions that grip their self titled EP, the pensive lyricism bottled in 2024 single “canary”, the potency of their live sets. It also veers into new textures, leaning into a sharper sound and hinting to the dynamism we can anticipate on their debut.
I noted the nature of their sets, but for those who have yet to experience bloodsports live, I will emphasize that the four piece is well versed on the impact of oscillation. They have a knack for suspense through contoured structures, assertive drumming, and compelling buildups. The latter serves as the foundation for “Rosary”, which leads with tender vocal harmonies over bare chord progressions and ends on a blazing riff. The track’s gentle onset is armed with unease, inciting tension as you wait for an impending sonic inflation.
About the single, Sam shares, “This song was written about a relationship that I ended, and reminiscing about the feelings months after the fact. Lyrically, it’s a very bittersweet song. It looks back positively on the time that was spent but there’s also a layer of regret about the things that never quite came to fruition. It’s strange to sing live now because the relationship that it’s referencing has since been rekindled but I can still connect to those feelings from back then.”
Anything Can Be A Hammer is set to come out October 17th via Good English Records. It marks the first release for Good English, a New York and Nashville based label dedicated to creative freedom and a DIY ethos.
You can pre-order Anything Can Be A Hammer on Bandcamp.
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