Today, Wandering Years return with You Are Covered in Brooklyn Amber, a new EP via Candlepin Records and Better Days Will Haunt You; a short, yet mighty collection that finds the New York group, fronted by Gene Stroman, embarking on a lo-fi endeavor and an expression of influence and melodic progression. “Creeks overflow / Flowers Grow / Valleys mold and boulders roll and roll”, opens the title track as a clear marking of new beginnings – the EP grows with articulated distortion roaming in the head space as the title track poses with harmonious voicings and indie-rock elegance – where Wandering Years soon proves that they are a band on a mission.
Compiled of songs written between 2022-2024, You Are Covered in Brooklyn Amber is an album layered by a multitude of melodic guitars and methodical instrumental drives that pair together with such sincerity and intention to progress. Following their 2023 debut, Mountain Laughed, this new collection repurposes two tracks from that recording session as well as three new recordings made on a tascam recorder. Songs like “Summer Dress”, one of the band’s oldest songs, takes advantage of the space with large guitar solos and pounding percussion as the EP’s heaviest rocker, while “Geologic” explodes with tenacity and tension, protruding the very confines of a lo-fi recording, as Stroman’s hushed vocals are brought out further by delicate, yet purposefully spirited harmonies that manage to stop you in your tracks.
Through the noise, though, comes a level of sincerity that is oftentimes overlooked in the world of shoegaze and gaze-adjacent groups. “You’re the Chrysler Building” bleeds within its patience, where the hiss of the tascam’s bandwidth is a simmer of reflection and a journey of finding your way back home – “Campfire sparks and Springsteen’s Nebraska / Free as can be and headed back east” – building upon personal moments of introspection as a natural open playing field to explore. “You Are Covered (Acoustic)” is a return to their Virginia roots, a display of tender folk twang and alluring repetition of melodies as Wandering Years revisits the opening track as if its an entirely knew song, yet leaving its holistic impression of fresh starts even more tender and accessible. “Progress is slow / But the seeds are sewn / Believers know / Lovers glow and glow” – told within the frame of a simple guitar song, plays a triumphant expression with heart filled gratification at its core, because Stroman and co. know it’s best to keep your feet planted – in the case of You Are Covered in Brooklyn Amber, and let the pedal steel play you out.
Through Columbus, Ohio’s Better Days Will Haunt You, there will be a limited run of vinyl of You Are Covered in Brooklyn Amber. Wandering Years will be playing an album release show Friday Sept 13 at Heaven Can Wait in NYC.
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 UK-based group Bug Teeth.
Starting back in 2018 as a solo project by front-person PJ Johnson, Bug Teeth has expanded into the ethers, a functional force of members and a whimsical array of sounds and spirits that culminate in the natural beauty all around us. Their latest EP, Lucky Me, Lucky Mud transcends any defined boundaries, showing a band that has been established in their strengths while also embracing what may be beyond; ecstatic percussion, inventive tension, experimental atmospheres and literary thematic excursions all brought to life within a forceful DIY spirit. With the release of a new single, “Landscaping” earlier this year as well as a soundtrack by PJ called “Things That Grow” for a film exploring the microscopic world of bacteria, Bug Teeth are in the works of finishing new music to be released in the near future.
Today, the members of Bug Teeth curated a playlist for your listening enjoyment.
Anne Malin Ringwalt, who performs and writes under the name Anne Malin, is an absorbing artist and poet, branching through a career that is transcending of any boundaries as her art collects upon her most basic instincts as an individual. Following 2022’s album, Summer Angel, the North Carolina artist returns today to Dear Life Records to announce her fifth album, Strange Powers! (due 10/25) as well as share its first single, “River”, along with an accompanying music video.
Pivoting within an ever vivid sense of self, “River” becomes part of Ringwalt’s journey towards recovery, as she rebuilds trust in the earth and feels its reciprocation. In a bloom of violin played by Lily Honigberg, both cinematic yet simple, “I saw my heart beating in a river and left it there for the earth to save / Some muscle wet in the weeds, and flooded through still I will sing” – rests with some weight on top of Ringwalt’s fingerpicking as her articulated vocal expressions ebb and flow with such delicate intention as the track breathes in and out without congestion, immortalizing these moments of calming reassurance and understood fear amongst its wandering pace.
“River” is accompanied by a music video shot by Abby Jones at Eno River and Jordan Lake in Durham, North Carolina in a spurt of pouring rain. Shot on super 8, the video becomes a representation of solitude, as Ringwalt moves across the natural landscape, falling into the spirit of the enduring earth and the timeless warmth of the tape’s hue.
“River” is also used as a bridge that joins the release of Strange Power! and What Floods, a new book-length poem written by Ringwalt published by Inside the Castle.
If you have ever experienced the rich communal impact of the Chicago music scene, there is a chance that you have caught a performance by guitarist and pedal-steel player, Andy “red” PK, who has become a substantial player in countless Chicago acts such as Free Range, hemlock, Tobacco City and other touring groups. Although PK’s presence in the scene feels matured, established and highly influential, their skills as a songwriter are a new endeavor for them, as last week saw their debut singles as a songwriter, “Bedroom” and “Moving Off the Line”, added to streaming platforms for the first time, marking the start of a new talent that stands out on its own with such sincerity and contextual instinct.
Stemming from immediate inspiration and recorded directly to tape, these singles are brief, yet dense with intention and clarity. “Bedroom” plays within a confined space, a collective exhale – a rummaging of thoughts that plunder our consciousness when the latch of your bedroom door comes to its purposeful resting spot. “And I heard you driving / I looked away too long and I missed you,” PK sings in a hushed whisper, lingering amongst layers of guitars that create a comfort of stringed textures underneath. In a more eager push towards folk-pop, “Moving Off the Line” so cleanly plays to both of PK’s skills as a melody maker and compositional instrumentalist. Progressing with a lively and nostalgic drum track that holsters an array of off-beat accent points, the track still leaves room for the underlying bass to speak for itself as PK’s established guitar voicings kick in. “If anybody told you / That I’m moving off the line / You’d listen close for warnings / But you’d hold on to the signs,” is noted by anyone who lives in Chicago; bustling, pragmatic and essential to navigating a complex city, let alone navigating your own placement on an individual level. Balanced with a string of harmonies that are performed with familiarity in influence, PK’s debut singles already feel timeless at their core.
You can listen to “Bedroom” and “Moving Off the Line” on all streaming platforms now, as well as purchase them at Red PK’s bandcamp.
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 artist Blair Howerton of Why Bonnie.
Why Bonnie released their sophomore LP Wish On The Bone last week, marking an explosive step forward for the Brooklyn-based group. Two years since their country-tinged, sun-soaked release of 90 in November, Blair, along with mates Chance Williams (bass) and Josh Malett (drums), have spent that time building on their strengths to blend a collage of new sonic voicings that only enhance Blair’s dynamic vocals and instinctively holistic and sharp lyricism. Through maturing stories of trust and curiosity, its a record that refuses to feel lethargic as the summer heat takes one last swing, making Wish On The Bone an exciting reminder that there is always a path forward in moments of little hope.
To celebrate the album’s release, Blair curated a playlist for your listening enjoyment!
Today, the Philly-based project Thank You Thank You has shared a new music video for their latest single, “Watching the Cyclones” which was released earlier this month via Glamour Gowns. As an ever expanding project brought out by the artistic stamina of Tyler Bussey, Thank You Thank You is an imprint of the people who pass through – an articulation of the souls that make a moment long lasting.
“Watching The Cyclones / Not long ago / The diamond gleamed in the sun / The great illusion that’s on my mind / Time standing still on the field for us / It’s going, it’s going, it’s gone.” Oftentimes, the heavy air of summer can be indistinguishable from underlying heartache and impressionable worries, but on the contrary, can be just as easily defined by the vitamin D and the chance to engage with its picturesque revelries. “Watching the Cyclones” thrives in that very tenderness of life, where momentary feelings blend together to form a brand new experience. It’s a patient song, allowing time and energy for the folky groove to exude its charm and make for an enjoyable experience – a chance to look around and see how good things can be.
Shot by Ty, Jesse Gagne and Sam Skinner along with animations by Julia Sutton, the music video for “Watching the Cyclones” becomes a misty morning excursion, a preservation of friendship, and an exploratory of goofing around in empty public places.
About the video, Ty shares, “In September 2022 I went to Coney Island with Jess and Sam, and on a whim on Monday, July 15th, I reached out to both of them to see if they’d like to go there with me at sunrise to make a music video. With nothing but iPhones and apples, this is what we made. We didn’t check the weather forecast and had no idea it was going to be so foggy. The video is a fun testament to making things with your friends and not overthinking it.”
You can watch the video below and stream “Watching the Cyclones” on all platforms now.
look below for some behind the scenes photos taken by Jesse Gagne and Sam Skinner that morning at Coney Island.
There is a sense of longevity that resonates within the artistic musings of Olympia, Washington – almost folkloric – where projects like Generifus have been acclimated to the ever shifting scene while still manage to trailblaze their own paths after decades long careers. Fronted by Spencer Sult, Generifus returns today with “Waking Winter”, the first single from his upcoming album Summerberrys set to be released 10/18.
Recorded up at the Unknown Studio in Anacortes, WA, “Waking Winter” plays to those cutting interludes of change and the deafening moments of stillness that seem to follow. Amidst the shuffling of drums, a reliable movement that sets the tone, Sult pushes forward into a light and hearty groove of sedated bass and spacious keys – “I don’t enjoy this / I should talk to someone / I should get it fixed,” he sings with a melody dedicated to the path ahead and the rhythm underneath. Sult and co. are patient in their delivery, stretching out the edges of their barebone roots while the different brushings of organ tones, twangy guitars and dreamy scale runs animate the track into a leading moment of realization; clarity in the cold.
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 Philly-based artist Amelia Swain of amelia cry til i die.
Described as queer trans basement emo, amelia cry til i die have become a staple within the homegrown Philly scene and its surroundings as they have accumulated a collection of four track albums, demo compilations and live basement recordings. The sincerity of Swain’s writing puts individuality at the center of any amelia cry til i die album – where moments of absurdity and humor weigh just as heavy as love, heartbreak and promises and each story feels to come from one of our closest friends.
Swain put together a playlist of music all coming out of the West Philly area in the past few years. Enjoy!
You can also find Swain playing drums in Sadurn and bass in Ther
“I think that it is good to want to have a community get together once a week, sing some music together, read together, do all those things,” McKenna acknowledges, a type of grateful reflection across her face as she discussed her approaching EP release show. “I have just had to seek structure and community in different ways, and I think Chicago has been very open to that.”
Edie McKenna is best known for her leading role in the Chicago-based alternative group, Modern Nun, who have spent the last few years dedicated to creating spaces built on acceptance and collective experience through music and community.
With the release of her debut solo EP, For Edie, out everywhere today via Devil Town Tapes, McKenna is leaning more into her folk roots – reliving and repurposing the words she wrote almost a half decade ago. It’s an open letter to her younger self, only four songs long, as For Edie carries past trauma with such confidence – a striking invitation into the life she lived and where she has been headed ever since.
I recently got to sit down with McKenna to discuss the new EP, learning to redefine imprinted expectations and the joy found in mutual congregation.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
Photo by Cora Kinney
Shea Roney: What was the transition like from St. Paul, Minnesota to Chicago? Where did you find yourself in the music scene here?
Edie McKenna: I graduated in high school in 2016 and moved to Chicago to go to DePaul. I really hadn’t been on my own before and it was really hard. I ended up dropping out of college because I just wasn’t doing well, but I made my core group of friends at DePaul and I fell in love with Chicago. My friend Sophie, whose brother is in the band The Slaps, saw the music that I started posting online and asked if I wanted to open for them. That’s when I had my friend Lee [Simmons], of Modern Nun, come play guitar with me. I think that the music scene was really lacking a lot of non-cis men at the time, so I think we just kept getting asked to play shows. Not to discount any of the non-cis men bands at the time, I just wasn’t aware of them because I was so new. I always was obsessed with indie and folk music, but I thought that I would be, I don’t know, a lawyer or whatever you think you’re going to be when you’re younger. I would just play music for fun, but then it kind of kept going and now I really love it, so I just kept going.
SR: In the past with Modern Nun, your recording sessions were more of what you described as ‘collective experiences of trial and error’. What was it like when you decided to take on these songs?
EM: Maybe this is just for me, but I find recording folk music just a little bit easier because it’s a little more straightforward and I don’t mind being so cheesy. Particularly with these songs, because I wrote them so long ago, the cheesiness is abundant. I don’t care if we’re just playing three chords, that’s fine with me. Whereas, with Modern Nun, it’s just different in that the music is a bit more complicated in a way.
SR: It’s funny because you said you never thought you would put these songs out, claiming that they were ‘too cheesy’ or ‘simple’. Did you find that there came either a motivation or a need for these songs to find daylight?
EM: I don’t know, I felt like I was just sitting on them. I’m lucky to have a really supportive group of friends who knew these songs, particularly “Lava Lamp”, which was one of the first songs I remember ever writing. I just had wanted to work with Seth [Beck] (Rat Future Recordings) for a minute because we were friends outside of this. When we finally got to work together I already had those songs and thought I might as well just try it. It went so well that I was like, why not make it a whole project? This whole thing has been a ‘why not’ sort of situation.
SR: Did the songs go through any changes from when you originally wrote them?
EM: They didn’t really undergo many changes, but I have been really under the influence of distortion, like Neil Young or MJ Lenderman vibe lately. I was just craving to add that to the folk music because I just think it’s so fun. We definitely tweaked them a little bit, because I’m not really a riffer and I wanted Seth, Zack [Peterson] and Eric [Beck] to be able to play off it, so we expanded some of the bridges and the intros and outros, definitely. But the lyrics stayed the same.
SR: Throughout this EP, you write from your own lens of some pretty difficult subject matters, especially on songs like “Kick in the Shin” and “Hail Mary”. What was it like to revitalize those moments and those feelings? Has revisiting these songs sharpened your understanding of your path of healing at all?
EM: I don’t know if I’m there yet, but I definitely have been feeling like I am almost ready to move on from these things. And in order to move on from them, I wanted to put these songs out. I do feel like I have processed these events and feelings and now when I write I don’t talk about them as much anymore. Like this EP was me writing about those experiences. When I named Modern Nun, that was about those experiences. But it is interesting to talk about it and I feel really proud about how far I’ve come. Songs are so specific and I think the best songs in my opinion are really specific moments or stories. It’s like time travel to those moments, but then I get to add something that I’m interested in now, like distortion, and it becomes a merging of two times in my life.
SR: “Swinging” feels like you are cutting yourself some slack, almost a brief grace period on the EP. Can you tell me about that song?
EM: That song is so gay. I’m sure it is definitely something that a lot of queer people experience, like when it’s two people not raised as men trying to make a move on each other. I remember it was impossible, the first date was like a week long and nothing happened, and I was like, ‘okay, that’s kind of the vibe.’ But it gets easier as you get older. That’s kind of what I was writing about. It’s so cute and it’s fun and I’m proud of it. I wanted to release it because I knew it is catchy, but whoa, I cringe. Just a little. Just a little.
SR: There are a lot of instances of longing in these songs – to be accepted, to be loved, etc. Do you feel like you have caught up to those feelings?
EM: No, I don’t think I’ve caught up to those feelings. I definitely think I’ve found my people and I’ve found it in other ways and in moments, but I think that it’s eternal. That feeling was so strong in high school and in early college when I wrote these songs, because, particularly being queer, it was just like, ‘I’m never going to act on these things’, or even, ‘I’m just going to pretend… ’. I also have extreme anxiety, so I get those feelings confused – excitement or yearning with like genuine fear, I get them really confused, so I think it makes the feelings stronger. But I think if you don’t have something to yearn for, what’s the point? It’s like having a crush on life, you’ve got to have something to be excited about it.
SR: While still talking about this longing, did the use of physical placeholders in your writing, such as sunglasses, a lava lamp, or even a malleable prayer make things feel more obtainable, or even just more realistic?
EM: My favorite kind of writing is just very straightforward because I really like someone who respects the intelligence of the reader and the listener. When I was first starting to write songs that I liked, the easiest way to do that is to just be observant and recognize, ‘this is my point of view’. I definitely think that it made the answers more realistic. I think using objects really just grounded me in the present moment because I felt so out of control and in the clouds in my life. They brought my answers into real life and made everything seem real at a time when I was really existing and hiding in my head.
SR: You grew up very religious, and I won’t ask you to dive back into it, but growing up in the foundations of congregation – which at its barebones is people who believe in the same thing/entity – have you found a draw to that same kind of belief when it comes to the local music community here?
EM: Totally, there are a lot of similarities. The things that I grew up doing, in theory, were amazing. Getting together once a week, singing, seeing some art, being with your family, being with other people, reading, talking about the reading, eating together – structure. I think I really struggle because a lot of things in my life I feel like I went from zero to a hundred. I went from not knowing what being gay was and going to private school where you got in trouble for doing the wrong thing always, to immediately smoking weed, etc. I just crave structure and I crave a very rigid routine and seeking that in my adult life has been really complicated. I had to seek structure in different ways through my friends here, which has been a huge learning experience because it’s like, ‘okay, I am living my truth. I am doing what I thought I would be doing just in a different way.’ That’s really nice to think about.
Written by Shea Roney | Feature Photo by Clare O’Mahony
For Edie is out every where today with a limited run of cassettes via Devil Town Tapes
I watched her brave out from under the awning of the Cyclone into a torrential downpour. As I maneuvered keeping my camera safely under an umbrella, a drenched Claire Ozmun sheepishly paused her posing to let a far away family pass by. I found it amusing that even in a massive storm, Claire’s main consideration was pulling too much focus. I wonder if her grunge forefathers would share the same anxiety in the midst of this moment.
I am a photographer and I love working with musicians and getting to know them through my work. A few months ago I reached out to Claire Ozmun about taking artist portraits. In that I stumbled into the fortunate position of becoming her friend and meeting the noble folks of COB, aka Claire Ozmun Band. Everything about her artistic perspective resonated with my desperate need for nostalgic, earnest self-reflection all mixed together with a ripping rock sensibility. I had the honor of shooting her much anticipated Dying in the Wool EP release at the Sultan Room in Brooklyn opened by Hiding Places and Adeline Hotel. They pulled a full house on a Wednesday evening so it was clear that night that we the people were watching COB launch.
I proposed to Claire that we celebrate by doing a photoshoot at Coney Island. When we first arrived at the West 8th street stop and our shoot began, so did a flash flood. Claire said her approach to the rain is to embrace and allow it to do what it will. This connected beautifully to her songwriting; a raw reflection of uncomfortable circumstances. As an artistic director my job is often to interpret the artist’s body of work into visuals that complete their message. I was keen on understanding Claire’s relationship with her visual output from a career standpoint. With a striking soft-grunge aesthetic and a drive to make memories, she aims to document her life authentically. Soaked from the flood we tucked away to a bar on the boardwalk. Claire thought back on arriving in Brooklyn and setting her sights on being a good friend first. With this Midwest sensibility towards friendships and her life-changing experience at School of Song, Claire joined a sturdy community of fellow artists who she continues to build a beautiful life with. She shared that her music, an honest recollection on growing up in Ohio, came to the forefront after she anchored her love in the people around her – the safest kind of love that brings out the best in an artist.
One question I had for Claire was, “what does your music know about you that you want visuals to capture?” She responded, “a non-sugar coated truth, discomfort and rawness. Though there is a silliness, general happiness and appreciation for my life.” We laughed about how the memory-making experience of a flash-flood photoshoot at Coney Island with a buddy embraces all of those qualities. She said, “like when we first got here I was actually so scared and I also wanted to laugh my ass off.” In that spirit, Claire and I left the bar and began hunting for lightning on the beach.
Looking down the road at such a promising career ahead can be so beautiful and daunting. The world of marketing and imagery can be a wild place for musicians. Just because someone is a performer doesn’t mean they are inherently comfortable with their photo taken. Claire is excited to continue into that world though there are reasonable fears around presenting one’s “face and human body.” However, she knows it cannot go wrong while she has her people around her. What better way to express nostalgia than to capture real memories with people you love? I have found in my own life and career that having a trusted community around you easily leads to thriving. It is a rapprochement to get to see yourself in other’s eyes, where that loving safety opens the door for the unknown ahead. Visual translation is very much a game of interpretation and a lesson in knowing. In all of life’s discomfort and hilarity, Claire Ozmun digs into her memories while we get to watch her make more.
To accompany this feature, Claire and Mara put together a supplemental playlist for our listening pleasure.
the ugly hug 