I have never gravitated towards astrology as a tactic for measuring compatibility. Perhaps it’s because I have never done ample zodiac research – instead I turn to slightly more specific litmus tests , like do you insist on using a Brita? Or, what lo-fi bedroom project resonates the deepest with you? Sometimes, the latter is merely a matter of surveying one’s thoughts on the Brooklyn based project, People I Love. It is a somewhat self-serving probe, with lines like “my relationship with words has a gold key” and reoccurring grievances pertaining to attending parties – People I Love’s discography is chock-full of anthems for the socially reserved. But, even if your Myers Briggs begins with an “E”, I think there is a grandeur weaved carefully into People of Love that requires a certain level of intentional and emotionally aware listening to fully appreciate (therefor setting it up as personality assessment gold). Within tracks that rarely surpass three minutes and structures that aren’t trying to prove themselves, there are parcels of complex emotions tucked in the intimate and lived in corners of each song, and an opulence that grows with each listen.
Today, People I Love shared new track, “Perfect.” Featuring Avery Kaplan on drums, as well as and guitar, piano, and slide contributions from Boone Patrello (Dead Sullivan), it’s a song about longing to be perfect…maybe. It strays from commercialized notions of perfection, dodging 9pm bed times, self-improvement books, and $16 green juices (although if I were a hypothetical gym rat, I could see the bridge pushing me to an arm day PR) and instead prods at something darker. “Perfect” opens with going about felt the bloody air / spying around find a violent stare wanna explode – but even without this lyrical agony, the track in its entirety flirts with detonation. Leading with a fleeting warmth that quickly transcends to an intense, pressure cooker kind of heat, “Perfect” conveys a dysregulated mood threatening to burst. The general soundscape is a moving target, springing from cascades of dejected guitar, quirky pitch bending, angular percussion, and Dan Poppa’s signature frothy vocals. It’s also rather catchy, sure to have you seething “wish I was perfect, my blood they’ll inject it” throughout this (appropriately timed) week.
While it is by no means necessary, I am personally fond of a band name that manages to elicit some sort of parallels to the music that said band makes. Not in any super overt way, rather in an intangible sense – like when you listen to Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot and think, yeah, this is exactly what a sparkly horse sounds like. Perhaps that one is too abstruse, but think Built to Spill, Rage Against the Machine, Unwound, Brooklyn based Local Weatherman – who just announced their forthcoming EP, Right One. There is something simultaneously idiosyncratic and omnipresent about the notion of a “local weatherman”; whatever striped tie clad character it denotes for you will likely be wrapped in the same blanket of nostalgia as the one that comes to mind for your roommate who grew up Central Illinois and your coworker from New Jersey. Serving as patient zero of the ‘microceleb’, the local weatherman is a household name that belongs to you in a way Emma Stone never could. A star on your television each morning, but one time you saw him buying 2% milk at the grocery store, striped tie swapped for a quarter zip. He’s legendary and he’s human and he’ll occupy a small plot of real estate in your mind forever.
Today, Local Weatherman shared “Thread”, a song seeped in the ideas that make up my introductory tangent. Though it nods to the reigning songs of frontman Fritz Ortman’s childhood, my guess is “Thread” will dredge up some sort of nostalgia for you too. Or perhaps build the foundation for future nostalgia, as its ridiculously hooky bones and unfettered vocals pave the sort of angsty and youthful experience that our brain has no choice but romanticize in some way down the line. Crammed with punchy riffs and metaphors of disastrous failed sewing attempts, “Thread” a full throttle track slated to stick with much longer than three minutes and twenty-three seconds.
About the song, Ortman says, “‘Thread’ is about having no release valve when your mind is racing. It’s the heaviest song we’ve made, but I think the bridge is one of the prettiest moments on the EP. This song also reckons with the rockstar dreams I had growing up (and maybe still have), and each verse ends with a nod to a song I loved as a kid.”
RightOne will be out January 16 via Karol Records. You can listen to “Thread” below.
It would be difficult for me to write about a Nara’s Room remix EP without referencing the feature I wrote on Nara Avakian earlier this year. We spoke about three months following the release of Glassy star; the 2024 record offering up a foundation for a more comprehensive conversation on the project’s ethos and ever-expanding nature. When discussing their songwriting, they enthused about their bandmates ability to contort or enhance music they wrote from a personal and sometimes even guarded place.
“They evolve the meaning and turn something that is very private and singular into something much more nuanced”, Nara told me in January – a quote I think back on each time I listen to Glassy was the sky.
Last month, Nara’s Room shared Glassy was the sky – a remix EP of Glassy star and the latest feat to stem from the project’s emphasis on the potential for art to evolve. It consists of seven tracks and features contributions from Sister., fantasy of a broken heart, Hausholding, good.will, Brendan Jones, and Shallowater.
“Sister., fantasy of a broken heart, Shallowater, and Hausholding are some of my favorite bands currently”, Nara explains, “good.will, aka Will Fisher, our Ambient Duty player, and Brendan , our drummer contributed as well to the EP which was special because I loved hearing their own interpretations of the songs outside of their roles in arranging them. Will wasn’t a part of the project when we recorded ‘Glassy star,’ so it was special to have him on too.”
Glassy was the sky houses two versions of “Glassy star”, the original record’s emotional closing track. On Glassy star, it takes a coarser form than the tracks that precede it, stripping down the fuzz and sonic eccentricities to end on a moment of uninhibited vulnerability. In doing so, “Glassy star” perfectly captures the moment between naivety and what comes next, as Nara sings “Nineteen’s a funny time to be, the world’s only just started.” These layered and complex feelings pour onto both renditions on Glassy was the sky, though both projects manage to do so in a way that feels authentic to their own sound.
“Sister. and Shallowater’s wildly different interpretations of ‘Glassy star’ only expanded the universe of the song and it was special to hear the way the raw emotions in the original were interpreted by them”, Nara says of both “Glassy star” versions.
Glassy was the sky also contains a version of “Teeth” by Hausholding that Nara deems “so freaky, in the best way”, an exhilarating fantasy of a broken heart rendition of ‘Grape juice’, and a version of ‘Holden’ by Brendan Jones that honors the tracks original ballad form. It ends with “Like ivory – duo version” ft. good.will, a track that Nara describes as an “epilogue of sorts”, adding, “hearing his rendition almost gave me closure.”
“Darla is sort of like your alter ego… the person you thought you were going to be, but maybe you’re not.” Is it a love letter? A letter from a former enemy? Or maybe a reflection of who we want to be? Love, Darla, the newest release from NY-based duo Laveda, perhaps comes from a place of wanting. We reflect on choices we don’t make, wondering how our life trajectory would’ve changed. Filled with noise and the hustle of city life, this latest project aches to be in our headphones as we walk across streets and alleyways.
The ugly hug recently had the pleasure to sit down with Ali Genevich and Jake Brooks of Laveda, to talk about Love, Darla and more.
Photo by Julia Tarantino
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Who’s Darla?
Ali: Darla is sort of like your alter ego or maybe that person that you thought you were going to be, but maybe you’re not. It’s the person that you wish you were.
Jake: If you made other decisions in your life in an alternate reality. She’s definitely a badass.
Is she the narrator of this album?
Ali: I would say so! It’s not always in a first person or omniscient sense, but I would say so. I think every song has a different version of her.
I wanted to talk about “Strawberry,” your latest single. You guys talked about how it is very formative in the evolution of your creative processes, where it gave to a fully realized sound after being tested live. When did you know that the track had crossed from being a live track to being a fully finalized version?
Ali: I feel like it was on tour. At some point, we took it out in March of 2024, and we had it and “Heaven” sort of demoed out. And we had an idea of what we wanted to do for the next record, but most of it wasn’t written. And we were like, “Oh, we should take these two songs out on tour and see how they feel in a live setting and make some adjustments and put our own little flair on things.” And I think that “Strawberry” had a very natural evolution, where we would play it, and vocally I remember trying some new things and straying really far from the original vocal performance that I did in the demo. So by the end of the tour, we had a version that felt very different. And just the energy that it was evoking, I was like, “Okay, I think I want the rest of the record to sort of feel like this.”
Jake: I think we knew maybe after our tenth show in Austin.
Ali: We were playing a lot of shows in one week and doing the songs three times a day almost. So, you have a lot of time to think about the set and think about what you’re doing, and you have a lot of creative freedom when you’re playing that much. I don’t know if I would recommend it necessarily, but it was fun in some ways. It was cool to spend that much time with one set too. I think that was about the time we figured it out and then the rest of the record came later, but that definitely inspired everything else that came later.
You talk about a feeling – with the context of New York, it kind of feels like walking around at 4 a.m. maybe with some dark alleyways. What imagery do you invoke from it? Is it intentional at all?
Ali: Definitely walking, movement in some way, I think just goes hand in hand with the record. Whenever I’ve been listening to some of my favorite records since moving here, it’s been in transit. It’s just sort of that chaotic movement feeling and headphones specifically. I think it’s like a very headphones listening sort of record, so you can just be in your own world, while everything else is moving past you.
I love that. You also mentioned playing unfinished songs during your sets – did audience reactions ever shape how the songs ultimately developed?
Ali: Definitely. With “Strawberry” specifically, I think my vocal performance had a lot to do with what feedback we were getting at the end of shows. I would have people say, “By the way, I really like when you would scream during that one song.” And it would be something that I was trying out, and so I definitely think I took that to my heart for sure. And I was like, “Well, I like doing that too.”
You guys also mentioned digital burnout before. How does it feel to navigate the tension of needing to promote yourselves while also being drained by this personal burnout that you guys experience?
Jake: I think it’s a never ending struggle. We’re on our phones a lot promoting. And I think that goes for everybody that does something that they like doing, I feel like American commercialism and capitalism bleeds into everything that we do. It sucks and it’s annoying. I think that digital burnout definitely is like the most modern way of experiencing being sick of capitalism. Music is supposed to be about hanging out with your friends and meeting people. That’s one of the things I really like about music, is that you go to all these small cities and towns and they welcome you into them, you know? And you meet so many cool people out of it. It’s such a local thing, playing music and going to different cities, you just meet all these people that are so present in their own reality. And so it feels weird and superficial to be doing stuff like that, and also having to be promoting yourself and selling a product. It’s a tough thing to navigate.
Ali: I’m excited that the label that we’re working with for this record were like, “Sure, selling records is good, but at the end of the day you should be focusing on the music.” It’s cool that they recognize it, whether or not we can do it. We all work day jobs, but I feel lucky to even be able to put out a record, and that people care about it.
I wanted to talk about one of your songs, “Cellphone.” I think that’s one of my favorites off your record. I got to look at the lyrics and I particularly like the repetition of, “I don’t need to know that my hair looks like a boy.” To me, it captures unsolicited critiques, projecting insecurity, narcissistic tendencies, and such. I was just wondering more about the story behind it.
Ali: Totally, I feel like you hit the nail on the head. It’s funny because when we first wrote that song, it was really just total gibberish that I was singing into the mic for the demo. And I just had this melody of “I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, I don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore.” And then I had the hair lyric, and was like “God, I should probably change that, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.” And then I remember for days, once the song was totally done, thinking I gotta come up with other lyrics. Then so much time passed and I was like, “I just can’t sing anything else there,” like it made sense to me and that’s what I was feeling behind it. It doesn’t matter what people say, but it’s just, like, why do we even need to think about it? It’s like, you’re upset about it, but you also don’t give a fuck at the same time.
You’re celebrating the record with a release show at Baby’s All Right – what does playing that stage mean to you?
Ali: We’re super excited, it means a lot!
Jake: We grew up as a band hearing the mysterious tales of Baby’s All Right and how amazing the place is. It’s kind of a milestone thing to play there. We played there once, opening for our friend’s band and now we’re excited to headline it.
Ali: The sound is so good there and the staff is so awesome. It’s gonna be the craziest Tuesday ever.
What do you hope people will carry with them about Love, Darla, especially after the show?
Ali: I hope they have fun! I hope they can release some sort of energy at the show, because the record is very fiery and a big release of energy. I hope they can let go of something and just enjoy themselves.
You can listen to Love, Darla anywhere you find your music as well as on vinyl and CD via Bar/None Records.
Written by Chloe Gonzales | Featured Photo by Mars Alba
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 Providence / Brooklyn-based band Dogs on Shady Lane.
Today, I found out I can fit three listens of Dogs on Shady Lane’s latest EP into my commute from Brooklyn to Midtown. It was not a calculated experiment, rather a product of the EP’s cunning structure and how its wistful textures pair so perfectly against a rainy New York morning. I was lost in it from the second I twisted the lock on my apartment door to the broody intro chords of “Knife (Lady)”, until the inflamed final moments of “Basement” accompanied my departure from frenzied train stop to umbrella-clad Manhattan streets. Fronted by Tori Hall, who started the project in 2018, Dogs on Shady Lane is a Providence / Brooklyn based four piece that now includes Evan Weinstein (guitar/synth/vocals), Calder Mansfield (bass/vocals), and Grace Gross (drums). It is impressive how deep cut their 2024 release, appropriately titled The Knife, manages to cut within a timeline just shy of 14 minutes (or 42 minutes depending on your self-control). As withering introspections surrounding a brittle heart tread in fuzzy alt-folk sea, Hall’s honeyed vocals are at times complemented by the twinkly instrumentals they coincide with and at times engulfed by fervent and frothy riffs. It is a stunning and cathartic listen, one certainly representative of the dynamic quality of Dogs on Shady Lane’s discography, the captivating nature of their live sets, and surely any future projects they may have in store.
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.”
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
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.
Last month, Brooklyn and Philly based tape-meca enthusiast label Solid Melts released what is to be the first volume of the Solid Melts compilation. Run by Drew M Gibson and Scott Palocsik, this collection compiled 29-tracks of friends old and new, reminiscing on a scene of both commotion and collaboration, and one that shook the foundations of the DIY structure that so many bands found a home in with Solid Melts.
Solid Melts vol. 1 includes artists such as The Spookfish, Reaches, Mezzanine Swimmers, RXM Reality, Accessory, gut nose, Katrina Stonehart, and many many more, traveling through looped fixations, electronic tinkerings and folk-based explorations that celebrate over a decade of music.
We got to ask Gibson a few questions about the compliation;
Coined as a compilation of music from friends old and new, what was the initial idea for Solid Melts volume one?
After a long break from the label we thought a comp would be a fun way to check in with friends!
How did you begin to piece it together? How did you reach out to folks and what sort of things were artists sending you?
It came together pretty naturally thru texts & phone calls. We actually bit off more than we could chew and couldn’t fit everyone on this first comp!
There are a variety of artistic styles and sonic avenues that are represented in this collection. What does the diversity of artists and sounds mean for Solid Melts?
We know a ton of freaks & want the sound to reflect that.
Where does curating and releasing this compilation find you in your life currently? What does it represent for you and the solid melts label as you look ahead?
Releasing the comp was mad fun! Moving forward we’re hoping to be more involved with the community by releasing tapes & organizing events! More to come ❤
The discography of People I Love boasts potential for an excellent horror movie score. Not so necessarily a grotesque blockbuster (though I would love to hear “Holyness” in Smile 2), perhaps more of an emotionally abstract, artsy thriller. The kind of film where the real “horror” is not derived from cheesy SFX or supernatural antagonists that cease to exist when the credits roll, and instead through the realistic, human characters it features. His latest single might present like the latter (though I suppose that hinges on whether you believe in witchcraft), though underneath halloween emblems and mildly sinister cover art is a track that fits perfectly into his raw and sensible discography. Out today, “The Witch” toes between warmth and melancholy as it begs the question of what is more terrifying; the fact that someone hurt you, or the fact that you let them.
Brooklyn based Dan Poppa has been releasing music under People I Love since 2019. He usually keeps his canvases minimal, eliciting tension through wilting chord progressions and airy layers of organic and eerie synthetic sound. There is a heaviness amidst his sparsest arrangements, armed with sneakily contagious melodies and introspections that scrape deeper upon each listen.
At first, “The Witch” appears less fragile than People I Love’s 2024 releases. There is a volatile feel to Poppa’s vocals, which often assume a more tender and withering shape. It also builds up fairly quickly, as the early reserved guitar and thin percussion bleed into a fuller sonic atmosphere just after the one minute mark. The motifs from the beginning of the song return, offering an unsettling intermission between charged pleas of “are you a friend or you just a witch” and chipping away at a facade paved by animated melodies and moments of upbeat tempo. Though the tone of “The Witch” is murky, bending between skepticism and clarity, the track’s catchy nature is irrefutable. You can listen below.
the ugly hug 