Writing and Photos by David Williams | Live May 21st at the Empty Bottle
Sometimes less is actually more, especially in the case of Miss Grit’s dynamic live performance. The New York-based artist, also known as Margaret Sohn, only needs a guitar, a pedal, and a projector to mesmerize the sold-out Empty Bottle crowd on May 21st. Sohn came on my radar after her daring debut record, Follow the Cyborg, a concept album about a machine’s journey to “awareness & liberation.” The main subject of the science fiction story was fifty percent human, fifty percent machine, but the music was one hundred percent enthralling.
Now, Sohn is touring off her latest album Under My Umbrella, which was released earlier this year. The songs feel like a truer version of herself, not singing from the perspective of a cyborg, but one that embraces being human. Shedding her robotic cloak gives Sohn the freedom to show the world just how real her talent appears to be.
The songs from Under My Umbrella vibrated throughout the set. Sohn’s voice is truly stunning in person and captured the attention of the audience from the jump. The live songs captured the intricate and delicate details as on the album, engineered by Sohn’s longtime collaborator Aron Kobayashi Ritch from the band Momma fame.
Miss Grit delivered a brooding performance jam-packed with fuzzy electric guitar shredding, glistening techno beats, and all served to display her dynamic songwriting. Being an opener, you’re most times behind the eight ball in trying to keep the focus on your performance. Sohn displayed the poise, confidence, and overall skill set of a performer that won’t be opening for many acts going forward. A star is on the horizon, waiting to be born.
Check out our gallery of photos from Miss Grit’s set in front of a sold-out Empty Bottle crowd.
The air is electric in the blistering, windy winter that we have grown accustomed to in Chicago, Illinois. It’s not only that the Bears are surging back to NFL relevancy again that are keeping people up lately during our most frigid nights. Every day, seemingly fresh out of the box, exciting bands within the indie community are being created. Chicago has now become a hotbed for those new voices breaking out and exploding onto the scene.
Ehmed Nauman and Micah Miller created the band This House is Creaking, which belongs in the conversation with other forward-pushing, future-thinking artists that will continue to push the envelope sonically, like Lifeguard or Joe Glass. THiC is starting to hit its stride with two albums in its catalog. Their latest album, I Want to Feel at Home Here, was a DIY hammer house filled with fuzzed-out guitar textures, mixed with lyrics that lean towards inner monologue that would normally rest solely in one’s head.
THiC should be lauded for essentially laying themselves bare on different songs. They’re trying to find their place in the world with a soundtrack of 90s alternative rock, Midwest emo, and spasmic dubstep noises as their playground. The band triumphantly molded what each other listened to growing up into one brand of music. Them growing with each other with each passing song and album, it would be easy to see THiC bursting down the door with the ferocity of the Kool-Aid Man entering the mainstream.
Micah Miller, raised in the Evanston area, is the producer between the two known for bringing his own style of chaotic digital experiments to each song. His influences of Skrillex, deadmau5, and Porter Robinson bleed through the speakers. Ehmed Nauman, hailing from Las Vegas, is the traditionalist of the group. His weapon of choice is his guitar. He can shred, mold, and bend sounds at his whim. There’s a keen sense of aggressiveness within his riffs and distortion, similar to the grunge bands he listened to as a child through his dad’s guidance. They play off each other, bringing the best of both worlds from their upbringing into an amalgamation of memorable songs. Together, both sonically bring more twists than a Ford Mustang in a Fast and Furious film.
A new record with the potential of attaching themselves to a bigger name band to hit the road are some of the ambitious plans ahead for THiC in 2026. If their new album is anything similar to their latest singles, “Something Else” and “2 lamp (lava lamp)”, we’re in for a real treat. I got a chance to sit down with THiC to talk candidly about their aspirations, how they met, the origin of their band name, and what music they listened to growing up. Also, check out the gallery from the photoshoot on a cloudy December afternoon.
What’s your first musical memory?
Micah: School of Rock was mine. I wanted to play the drums because the dude with the spiky hair in the movie. I remember I would get in trouble at school for drumming with pencils. I’m not even a drummer at all, but I would drum on the desk with pencils. My teacher told my mom, “you should get him drum lessons since he can’t stop during class.”
Ehmed: I think the most significant, pivotal music moment from when I was a kid was seeing my friend Kasim, whose since passed away, he just shredded the guitar. I remember I would go to their house literally every day after school. He used to play Guitar Hero on silent – he would actually mute Guitar Hero because he would have to focus. But he shredded on the guitar and he had this cream Les Paul with the P90s. This specific guitar is burned into my musical being. Just seeing him play the guitar and get good at it was actually the first time where it clicked in my head that it’s like, “Whoa, you can practice something and get better at something through practice.” I think Casen is certainly the biggest inspiration to me other than my dad. I remember one distinct memory driving to the Hoover Dam with my father, because I’m from Vegas, and we’re listening to “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” by The Beatles. Just hearing that play, being like, “wait, this is fucking awesome!”
What were some of your favorite bands growing up?
Micah: That’s a tough question. One of the bands that I was the most into when I was between the ages of like seven and eleven was Cage the Elephant. Then I kind of got into a lot of electronic music as I was growing up. Skrillex is one of my goats. “Raise Your Weapon” by deadmau5 is one of my favorite songs of all time. And a lot of my musical memories are bands that my sister showed me. The Menzingers were really big for me when I was younger. Funnily enough, American Football and a lot of Midwest Emo stuff.
Ehmed: In my earliest days, I was mostly listening to the music my dad showed me. A lot of classic rock, but also a lot of grunge music like Soundgarden, you know, the big grunge bands at the time. Then when I started to discover music for myself I got really tapped into the Chicago scene in my high school years. I got tapped into Moontype, Options and Post Animal – that sort of scene was very impactful for me and that’s why I came out to Chicago. Chicago has a genuine love for making stuff.
Does the music you listen to when you’re growing up influence what you’re doing today?
Micah: 100%! We do a lot of our stuff very production heavy. I started making dubstep and electronic music when I was eleven years old. I heard Skrillex for the first time and I needed to figure out how to do this. Then I got into Porter Robinson and it brought in my view of what electronic music could be. I think you can hear some Porter in our stuff. I was also listening to a lot of bedroom pop like Frankie Cosmos and early Porches when I was younger. I think that also translates into a lot of our mode of thinking.
Ehmed: My first love was the guitar, studying all this classic rock shit like Eddie Van Halen that has stuck with me and will stick with me. The guitar is where I feel most confident. Like what Micah was saying, he is a producer to his core. I came from playing bands, playing guitar and doing all that. So that’s where I think This House is Creaking lies in the middle. At this point, we’re both playing guitar, and we’re both heavily producing it. I think that’s pretty essential.
Micah: For my 12th birthday, my parents asked what I wanted and I made a PowerPoint presentation on why they should buy me the full version of Ableton Live. And they did not buy it for me. But they bought me a keyboard and AOSIS 49 keyboard that came with a free trial of the light version of Ableton, where you could only use 8 tracks within a project file. This lended a lot to my learning of it, and as you were with the guitar, I would YouTube tutorial every day on the bus to school and when I got home. I was bringing my laptop on the bus and I remember kids making fun of me. I played baseball and kids would ask me, “you stopped playing baseball for dubstep?”
How did you originally meet?
Ehmed: We have a lot of mutual friends, and then by happenstance, we ended up living together a little bit.
Micah: I was moving to a new spot and saw someone had an open bedroom. I said “I’ll freaking do it.” We lived in Rogers Park for a year. We made so much music together and had so much shit that we said we should probably put out. I was sitting on a project of like 4 songs that I was going to do solo. Eventually, not all of them, but a couple of them will eventually come out as This House is Creeping songs.
Ehmed: I had demoed out a whole record of my own that summer. Then I was planning on going and recording it at a proper studio. But those will come out as THiC songs also at some point.
Micah: So it’s kind of just perfect timing. I remember Ehmed pushing me. Not in a negative way, but it was either, ‘you gotta put out the stuff that you have recorded or we gotta put out the stuff that we have now, we can’t just keep sitting on stuff’. I was really afraid of putting stuff out for a little while, so that extra push helped. I’m also beholden to my best buddy. We got to respect our own music and respect our own time. The response was really cool and it felt really good. I started picking up a guitar again. I wanted to be able to play live and not just stand on stage. It all just lended itself to the current iteration of what we do now.
Ehmed: Micah has a dubstep taste with mixing. I wasn’t used to working in Logic a lot, but Ableton literally changed my life. But for me I like learning more about the mechanics of production and mixing and stuff from Micah. I feel like we’re always learning back and forth from each other.
How did you come up with the band name This House is Creaking?
Ehmed: Dude, we lived in a very loud house. (laughing)
Micah: Yeah, it had these guttural noises because we had radiators that would make sounds and we would always feel as if someone was in the house or the house was creaking? We were sitting there, and one of us said, “dude, this house was creaking.” And we’re like, wait a second. We knew we wanted it to be a longer name that could be an acronym.
Ehmed: But the “thick” pronunciation wasn’t intentional.
Micah: It was not intentional for it to be able to be pronounced as thick, even though it works.
Do you remember the first This House is Creaking show? How did it feel? Just walk me through the whole emotions of it.
Ehmed: Okay, so we played downstairs at Subterranean. This was my first time playing music. I have been writing since I lived in Vegas. It was a big deal for me.
Micah: It was my first time ever playing music I’ve written, not behind a DJ deck, but having a guitar and in front of a mic and singing. It was crazy.
Ehmed: When we play live there’s 3 guitarists in the band. So our friend Hunter Borowick, who plays third guitar with us, our friend Taylor [O’neal], who I played in dozens of bands with, was playing drums, and Will Izdepski, he played bass. So it’s like literally our dream team of people.
Micah: I just realized I lied. It wasn’t my first time playing. It was the first time playing in a band rather than something that I just wrote.
Ehmed: It’s a crazy feeling to play your own music. For me, I play a lot of other people’s music all the time. I was a hired guitar player, I actually really enjoy it because I like to bring my own thing into other people’s music. Playing your own thing is different. It’s the most rewarding experience. Although we’re a studio band and there’s a lot of production, the live thing is a beast. I mean, it’s loud, it’s aggressive and it’s pretty all rolled into one.
Was there a band that you saw live that lit a competitive fire under you, like, you just want to go harder next time you’re in the studio?
Ehmed: There is a band called Palm that are no longer playing, but they are from Philly. We’re big fans of the Philly scene. Palm just made this unbelievable, timeless music. Truly, this is future forward thinking, and completely genuine, non-pretentious, just crazy shit they would make. Everytime I see them, it’s like, how the fuck do you even come up with? It’s nuts.
Micah: It’s funny because we both have listened to them separately before we knew each other. I mean, they’re legends in their own right, but they’re not like a huge band. They’re a cult band. I think that’s the ultimate one for me at least where I was like, ‘holy shit. You can do that?’
Ehmed: It’s not necessarily competitive, it’s more inspirational. It’s like, I want to do that too, you know? I get that from our buddies on a daily basis. We have a chat with all our best buds who all play in bands. They’re also just normal dudes, but anytime you go and see their shows, it’s like, “wait a second, you are so killer at what you do.” I think that’s a really cool part of Chicago. Just like being a part of a community.
You mentioned opening up for Water From Your Eyes. I was at the Hotline TNT show when you guys opened. You’re opening for DIIV in January. Do you feel you’re gaining momentum with people? That the music is starting to connect and now people are reaching out to you to open for bigger named artists?
Micah: Yeah, I definitely think so. It’s a knock-on-wood thing. And it’s not even that we’re doing it for that. I just love writing music and writing music with my best buddy. And it’s just a brain exercise and fun. But it’s definitely affirming to be opening for these bands I’ve listened to for a long time. My sister showed me DIIV when I was like 14 years old. That’s one of the bands that we were driving around in the back of the Volvo, hanging out after school and listening to DIIV, being like, “damn this is really cool.” Coming back around to it later and saying, ‘oh shit, I cannot believe that we’re gonna play with them. That’s crazy!’ It definitely feels like the music is connecting. The last two singles especially feel like we’re hitting our stride musically for me. It’s connecting really heavily and emotionally as well, which is cool. The last two are definitely pretty emotionally poignant songs.
Ehmed: I’ve been thinking about this a lot because at this point, I’m 24 and about to turn 25, but I’m just thinking about, “Why am I doing this? Why am I doing any of this? What is the point?” I’m more sure now more than ever that I love to make stuff. It’s the kind of thing that I’m gonna do. I am gonna do it no matter what and if I can have the materials and the means and the time to be able to make things, maybe eventually one day I could have a home studio where I could set up a drum kit and not have to worry about being too loud. That’s my goal. This is the way for me.
How do you feel like you grew from album one to album two as artists?
Ehmed: Album one was very… What’s the word? Like reactive?
Micah: Yeah, it was like a flash in the pan.
Ehmed: Yeah, it was a little impulsive. And not super deliberately made, which is good.
Micah: It was definitely more of a collection of tracks that we had made. The second one felt far more intentional. We sat on it for a long time.
Ehmed: Yeah, and they’re different. They’re very different albums.
Micah: The first one is more uptempo which I think of as a summer album. The second one is definitely a lot more introspective, I think, which feels like a fall/winter album. At least for me.
Ehmed: The second album is a very reflective one. It’s all about acknowledging these kind of fucked up things that occur inside, and then living with them. Now that I’ve put this out, or now that I’m aware of these patterns of behavior, what do I do now with this information? It’s not about me looking for answers, but it’s just acknowledging my actions.
Micah: I would agree with that 100%. It’s a lot of screaming into the void. I don’t think there are a lot of answers for a lot of the questions that we might be asking on these songs. And I think the beauty of it is also just giving space to somebody who’s listening to the songs. I can ask that question for myself and I don’t know what it might mean or what that answer might be, but the fact that I can ask it leads me to understand myself better in some capacity. I think that was what we were both kind of going for – to find an understanding of ourselves. I think that’s the biggest theme in our music. As a whole, it’s a lot of introspective introspection and like who, what, where, and why?
Your second album is titled I Want to Feel at Home Here. What does “I want to feel at home here” mean to both of you?
Ehmed: I think that’s along the same lines of gaining more understanding of myself, and himself, through posing the questions that are not necessarily looking for the answers. But, you know, it’s that desire to become better and more comfortable with yourself. You know, more confident or doing harder things that you know maybe need to be done.
Micah: I 100% agree. I think the song “Become,” which is the last song on the record, is very much a big piece of the ethos of that record. The hook is “I don’t like who I am inside,” which is this kind of cathartic release of just taking control, getting comfortable – you gotta sit with it, and you gotta get comfortable with it, and you just gotta do the thing.
Ehmed: I mean it’s kind of hard to face yourself sometimes, and I think that this album was that – it was a mirror.
Micah: It’s tough to listen to for me. I don’t listen to it… It makes me sad.
Ehmed: But it’s really interesting to have this sort of time capsule of what I was feeling at 23, 24.
In your latest single “Something Else”, you have a fart sound in the song. The last time I heard a fart on a song was Kid Cudi “Maui Wowie” which has gone viral on TikTok. Cudi’s fart is at the end of the song which is like a cap off to the experience. Your’s feels like it’s the jumping off point of the song.
Ehmed: I think we’ve been very serious about all this, right? It’s really not. It’s a big part of the way that this works, we just fuck around. When we were starting that song, we made it with Hunter Borowick and Peter Schultze, who Hunter plays in our band, and Pete also sometimes plays in our band. They’re best buds, and we started with them. We were just fucking around, you know, we’re in our living room, and I just got a whoopee cushion. I said “let’s just use this.” That’s not one that you write in the air necessarily.
Micah: Another thing that I have always loved about that song is lyrically, it’s very…what the hell? The lyrics are “I’m not that good, what’s wrong with being just okay.” And then you cap it off, this massive, massive, introspective, existential question with a fart and a release of laughter – it’s the catharsis in the release.
Ehmed: I think that’s big, it’s taking everything in stride. This is all in the grand scheme when you look at the bigger picture, the fart is a beautiful metaphor.
Micah: Yeah we do it live too.
Ehmed: Oh, my God, we just played a whole acoustic tour and we were playing “Something Else” and we were farting on the mic. (laughs)
How did you come up with the cover art for “Something Else?” Because it reminds me of a 90s Nickelodeon cartoon. It looks really cool.
Ehmed: Thank you. I dabble in drawing. Normally my drawings take weeks and I’ll just sit there and do this forever. I started to do a lot of stipple stuff, so I’ve been wanting to figure out how to do this a little faster in a more flowing way, so I’ve been watercoloring a lot. And that was just one.
Micah: The first two records are both paintings from two different friends of ours. Sarah did the first one. Drew did the second one. For “2 lamp (lava lamp)”, I found this crazy archive of lava lamp manuals from the 80s to now. Some dude runs this website who is just obsessed with lava lamps. And I spent three days just going through it all, and the art in these instruction manuals is insane.
Ehmed: What we did was we were thinking about our merch table, and we said, “how do we need to up our merch table?” So we were like, fuck, what do we put? Like, we’re making a list, and in Micah’s notes, he just had 2 lamp, parentheses, lava lamp, because we’re like, we need lamps for the show. I’ve gotten clowned on in sessions and stuff in the past for the way I label projects. Everyone’s like, ‘ugh, date, time stamp.’ Doing any of this is so unserious, it should not be serious. There are an infinite amount of songs to be made. This is just a song, you know? And this is another one of those infinities. I think we’ve both gotten very hung up in the past on making sure everything’s in line – making sure all the art is perfect. I feel if you’re spending that much time on one thing, you’re getting expectations and there’s room for disappointment. If you just do it, just make it and get it out, the beauty of things is in the moment of the creation.
You can listen to I Want to Feel at Home Here out now as well as grab it on CD.
Edging is a Chicago based four piece comprised of self proclaimed “Landscaper Punks”, who make (Ugly Hug proclaimed), really fucking awesome music. Yesterday, they shared “Scam Likely”, the single the latest addition to a discography packed with overripe frustrations, charged vocals, animated riffs, and plenty of innuendos. The unapologetically explosive “Scam Likely” is a vibrant punk track that confronts late stage capitalism and the piggish mercenaries upholding unjust systems that are, well, a scam. Lines of “You take what you want”, and “you wish I wasn’t born”, and “suck up all the money”, are whacked with charged repetitions “scam likely” that beg to be sung along to. Luckily, there are plenty of opportunities for this, as Edging leaves for tour this week supporting Lambrini Girls.
Recently, our photographer David Williams took photos of Edging in Chicago. Listen to “Scam Likely” and check out the photoshoot below!
Chicago, known for their erratic springtime weather, strikes once again. At first, what was once a bright and radiant mid-seventies day, the kind people dream about during the winter hibernation months, flipped into a sub-fifties wind turbine masterpiece within an hour. The vicious Chicago wind pierces our flesh like a Ric Flair knife-edged chop during the interview. Andy PK, who records music as Red PK, sits atop a hill in historic Humboldt Park overlooking the iconic skyline. There’s a feeling of endless amounts of possibilities in his burgeoning musical career, as there are skyscrapers in the mammoth metropolis.
PK welcomes me with his naturally warm smile on this blustery April evening, wearing a navy blue collared shirt, light wash jeans, and white low-top sneakers. Their hair is mixtures of orange, pink, and red like a perfectly scooped order of sherbet ice cream from Margie’s Candies. PK is still on an adrenaline high from a few weeks prior, performing in three separate bands (Free Range, Hemlock, Red PK) on the same night at the tucked-away hole-in-the-wall bar known as The Empty Bottle.
PK is a staple in the Chicago indie music scene, known for his powerful yet silky smooth live performances where he frequently plays on either guitar, pedal steel, or even both for numerous bands such as Free Range, Hemlock, Tobacco City, and under his solo work Red Pk which are his core four bands. But, there’s more; they’re also a touring guitarist at times for Options, Soft Surface, and starting this summer, Squirrel Flower. In each separate iteration, PK naturally melds his skills to whatever each band’s specific requirements are. There’s a reason why bands want PK around, he can shred guitar with the best of them.
This year, with their musical career blooming like a cherry blossom in spring, they quit their day job as a marketer to fulfill their dream of being a full-time musician. “I quit my job ultimately because I had no time for myself. I was saying no to gigs I wanted to do because I was working my job. Even on tours, I was working from the van the entire time. I would be on conference calls, five minutes before soundcheck, trying to wrap it up real quick so I can get out there.” PK says softly.
The sensation of being spread too thin can be a crippling feeling for anyone. Now, since the weight of a 9-to-5 job has been lifted, PK is starting to get a better handle on the freelance musician lifestyle with the assistance of a shared Google calendar with every band’s schedule. Maturing into their craft, PK is better now at keeping track of all their gigs and communicating more effectively on their booking dates. Also, realizing how critical it is to carve out personal time for themselves is necessary. These days, it centers on watching NBA Playoff games with Free Range’s Sofia Jensen.
Even when there are fleeting moments of struggle popping up every so often when keeping track of their gig calendar, PK can refocus themselves. “In times when I feel overwhelmed, I take a step back and ask myself, “What am I stressed out about playing music with my friends? I feel honored to have a bunch of work come my way. Five years ago, I never would have guessed that I would even be doing this stuff.”
Five years ago was when PK moved from the West Chicagoland suburbs to the big city in hopes of finding himself. This was a trying time with the COVID lockdown combined with a sense of being directionless from a passionless job and a search for a community connection. They turned to learning a new instrument with the hopes of putting themselves out into the world. “I picked up the pedal steel guitar, I always thought it sounded beautiful,” PK says.
Shortly after venues started to open back up in 2021, PK received their big opportunity that they were waiting for. Their first break came when the manager of the “Cowboy Crooner” himself, Andrew Sa, reached out to see if PK could do spot duty on pedal steel for a show. PK had only been playing the pedal steel for three months until that point. “I knew I could do that. I worked my ass off playing those songs a million times at home. After that, with Andrew, people started hitting me up to play in their projects.” PK says.
Through the phenomenon of twangy folk music, there was a surging need for pedal steel players across the city. For the next two years living in Chicago, PK became the “pedal steel guy” around the indie scene. But through that moniker, other artists started to notice PK’s prolific talent with the guitar. “I love pedal steel, but the guitar feels like it’s an extension of my body,” PK says. The two-year slow burn of becoming a full-fledged Ax man finally started to get some heat.
For guidance on his career, PK leaned on the community they were starting to build with the help of one of their best friends, recording engineer/musician Seth Engel. Engel served as essentially PK’s musical version of Yoda, minus the inverted style of speaking. The wise beyond his years veteran presence showed them the ropes around the local scene and connected him with like-minded people that gave them a sense of home.
“My family birthday parties or Christmas, after dinner we would get the guitars and sing songs together.” Think something similar to The Osmonds’ Family, but a thousand times cooler. Music was instilled at an early age for PK. They received their first guitar at age three from their parents. At age eight, they officially got their first lessons.
“Everyone in my family plays music, so there was always a lot of music going on at home that was like, definitely really influential to me.” PK reminisces. Through PK’s formative years, their father, who also played slide guitar in a lot of bar bands, influenced their early musical taste from the likes of guitar hero icons Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan. You can hear some of those classic blues riffs by PK sprinkled every so often on their projects with Free Range and Hemlock.
April 10th, Red PK’s gameday of being on the bill three separate occasions is here. A lot of preparation was put into all the performances to make sure they went off without a hitch. “I was rehearsing all day, every day, sometimes even three times a day,” PK says. The night couldn’t have gone any better. They were stoically strumming away from the opening set to the closing. They were in total command, like Steven Seagal in an action flick. I don’t think there was anything PK couldn’t have done that night at the venue. If they had asked them to sell popcorn or even to go start slinging vodka martinis behind the bar, there was no doubt they wouldn’t be able to execute it perfectly.
A celebratory feel was in the air the entire night. Free Range celebrated their terrific indie folk record Lost & Found, Hemlock celebrated their year-and-a-half journey touring, and of course, Red Pk’s five-year journey of not only becoming who they were always meant to be, but also doing it with the community and friends that they now love like family. “In a lot of ways, nothing’s changed. The vibe of my friendships is similar to that of being with my family; we get together and hang out, play guitar, and sing. I’ve felt such a sense of community, and I’ve made some of my best friends through the music scene. I cherish so many parts of that.”
So, what’s next on the horizon for Red PK? “I have my first solo record coming out this year. It feels like a culmination of a lot of firsts for me, so I’m excited to get that out there.” They currently have only two songs listed on their audio streaming pages, but that’s sure to change rapidly. PK promises to have some alternative folk elements, but also some power pop that will surely get people buzzing. They mentioned their affinity for the Y2k pop juggernauts Sugar Ray and having a desire to be in a similar ethos to them. The album sounds extremely promising, and they are looking forward to it being out in the world.
Finding one’s place in life is a grueling journey. Many people try to find the meaning of our existence and what they want out of life, but to no avail. The number of the actual amount of people living out their dreams is so minuscule that it can be frightening to think about. But there’s always hope behind that door. No matter your age or living situation, if someone puts the work in, they can find their purpose. There is a genuine beauty when a person finds that reason for being. Red PK has found that reason. This is a new beginning, just like a flower in bloom.
You can listen to Red PK’s previously released two song EP and other collaborations out everywhere now. Red is currently on tour with Free Range and is gearing up to play guitar in Squirrel Flower this summer.
Alice Rezende wants you to enter Olivia’s World. Inside this world, you’ll find that almost anything goes, and you’ll also encounter multiple characters embodying traits of complete debauchery, where people react on their most primitive self-destructive instincts that come off as either crude or cringeworthy, but also fighting your damnest to retrieve your sense of self while battling the obstacles that life has to offer.
As a native Australian, Rezende is a part of the Dolewave music scene that is heavily popular down under. Dolewave can be best described as Australia’s response to jangle pop with more of an edgy twist with some tongue-in-cheek sarcasm thrown in for good measure. It’s a scene that birthed bands the likes of the Twerps, The Goon Sax, and Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. Rezende’s rendition is part Dolewave, part romantic pop punk with a twinge of garage rock thrown in for good measure.
Rezende’s debut record Greedy & Gorgeous is a loosely based concept album about self-discovery. The themes are further illustrated as the record progresses on topics of self-care, inferiority, and authenticity. Rezende’s ingredients are put through a blender of angsty lyrics mixed with a bubblegum-sweet delivery that is engaging in a way that keeps getting better with every listen. I am reminded of another concept album TotallyCrushed Out! by That Dog, which is a mid-90s cult classic that is a supremely underrated collection of songs that is ever rarely mentioned.
The new supporting characters entering Oliva’s World are drummer Daan Steffens and lead guitarist Jordan Rodger who greatly contribute to the lively and crunchy sounds that live in Greedy & Gorgeous. They make themselves heard loud and clear on the punchy lead single “Sourgum” which flies out the gates at breakneck speed with pop punk-charged guitars that would have kept even Jason Statham’s adrenaline flowing at an all-time high in the film, Crank. Rezende’s sugary-sweet chorus matches the energy of the riffs to a tee, creating pure unadulterated entertainment.
“Empresario” is a song about an imaginary Brazilian band manager who’s not quite the best at his job; the manager should probably be headed to the unemployment line for their negligence. The song is fun as hell, with a groovy riff that I imagine Herman Monster doing the twist while wearing Bermuda shorts. The guitars have a proper 90s fuzz that gives the song a vintage sound. As the song comes to a close, Rezende has a conversation in Portuguese, and as a fellow speaker of the language, I felt like the Leonardo DiCaprio meme pointing at the television during the outro.
There are moments sprinkled throughout the album that remind me of another Dolewave superstar Tell Me How You Feel era Courtney Barnett. Most specifically on “Baby’s Bathwater” and “Chemlab,” with the former turned up with wailing, forceful guitars and the latter being a breezy, careful sonic experience. Both songs display a richly diverse, yet colorful array of sounds Rezende is capable of delivering. But also her quirky vocal style sticks out similarly to that of Barnett’s at her best.
“Healthy & wealthy” has a sonic influence that makes me think about what if The Breeders somehow got a hold of a Slanted & Enchanted Pavement era demo. The song has a fun-loving melodic chorus with a guitar sound that lies in the middle of the Venn diagram where slacker and garage rock merge. Rezende’s witty lyrics center on that adage of people preaching “just say no” and all will be cured, and is one to think about as she sings, “they say to level up don’t drink to get a buzz/all the while the morale is seriously low.”
The final two songs deal with internal and external social destruction. “Weird guy” is laden with noisy guitar riffs on the creepy male adults ruining the vibes of the surrounding women who just want to enjoy the simpler things in life. While “Beauty bar” is the slowed-down closer that vacillates between self-loathing and despair being around high-ranking people in the industry, singing “climbing to some lofty heights/giving off some awkward vibes/am I just a peasant here.”
After listening to Greedy & Gorgeous it’s easy tovisualize a scenariowhere your cool older sibling has just come back home from their freshman year away at college to nonchalantly bestow upon you an awe-inspiring album they found tucked away in a vintage record store. This is Alice Rezende’s world and we all are just living in it.
the ugly hug 