I have a tendency to fall into anecdotal rambling when I try to write about a project I find especially moving. This achilles heal is most inflamed when a song makes me cry – which does not happen super often – but when it does, I have to fight the urge to cite my own tears. It’s usually a desperate attempt to articulate the gravity of a track without turning to some dry technical dissection, but it doesn’t matter. No one gives a shit about the time I cried at my roommate’s roller blading competition, seated in a patch of grass above the park with Shallowater’s There is a Well in my ratty noise-cancelling headphones. So I will not tell you about it.
What I will say is that Houston based Shallowater is not doing anything new. At least not in a way I can cite on paper. Their soundscapes are familiar and rather organic, and I could write a laundry list of band comparisons ranging from emo and posthardcore to alt-country and slowcore, and they would all be valid. I suppose that is the real root of this apprehensive music journalism crisis I have so generously decided to include in this single review – the chasm between the abstractly unprecedented feel of a band and a reality that they are not technically doing anything unheard of. But perhaps that is the foundation for the most touching projects; an ability to pull from motifs seen countless times before and churn it into something that stops you in your tracks.
Today, Shallowater shared “Sadie”, the second single off their forthcoming record, God is Going to Give You a Million Dollars. The track starts on a gentle note, finding its footing in drawn out enunciations and a cautious rhythm section. As vocals grow in urgency, the soundscapes inflate into an eventual riff –lathered with mucky distortion, indulgent percussion, and a suffocating amount of poignancy. In the span of seven and a half minutes, Shallowater pursues this sort of escalation more than once, leaving you unsure of which buildup is the buildup. Perhaps the answer is neither? Perhaps the mud-slides of twangy sludge are less a destination than they are a means of amplifying slivers of delicacy and desperation between them. In the case of “Sadie”, soft vocals tend to cut deepest when they follow moments of sweeping cacophony. It’s enough to subdue even the sturdiest of poker faces.
You can listen to “Sadie” everywhere now, and pre-order God’s Gonna Give You A Million Dollars on Bandcamp.
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.
President TV of the United States, the project of Terese Corbin, shared with us her latest single “Greatest” late last week. Having artistic roots that cover both Tallahassee, Florida and Asheville, North Carolina, the single comes as a one-off following the release of “I Love You” featuring Jordan Tomasello, as Corbin begins to find comfort in blending new forms of sonic production with her tender lyrical prose.
With steady drums and warm piano runs, “Greatest” sets its own pace within the still environment from which it was made from. The subtleness becomes its strength, as a swell of synths sweep us up into the song’s passion-fueled movement and the melodic grip of the whispered vocals that flow with persistence yet lay low as if to bare caution as to who may be listening in the peripherals. But it’s in these hushed displays that hold the melody, making Corbin’s presence the tension point in the track as we lean in for every word that hangs on with poetic intuition and personal reverence, always playing with the idea of potential release.
We recently got to ask Corbin a few questions about her project President TV of the United States and the story behind “Greatest” in our latest track deep dive.
the ugly hug: What sort of things were you inspired by when writing “Greatest”?
Terese Corbin: Sonically, “Greatest” kind of came out of thin air while messing around with the ambient and piano instruments on a free sound pack I was recommended. In that way I can’t say that I directly set out to make a song like this, but I recognize I was unconsciously inspired by the arrangements and strange moods of bands like Chanel Beads, PJ Harvey, Model/Actriz, even a little bit of Geordie Greep. I’m also totally obsessed with the album Morning Light by Locust, particularly the song No One In the World. If you know that song (and if you don’t, do yourself a favor and listen!) you might feel like there’s some 1:1 references in the instrumentation between that song and “Greatest”. But like I said, not at all an intention of mine, but just a product of that being the music language I’ve surrounded myself with.
My writing and my art in general draws from a couple of usual places, but honestly, most of the time I become obsessive about moments I’ve experienced and phrases I hear that ring around my head for a long, long time before I understand why. This is definitely the case for “Greatest” —the lyrics and the whole drive of the song come from a moment I shared with someone who I loved very much and who I knew loved me too. In an intimate moment, this person told me, “I’ll be Jesus, and you’re Mary Magdalene…And I’ll be at your deathbed.” Like, you can be the judge, but I think that’s an insane thing to hear lol. Especially in the context of that relationship, but also in general–it held so much weight and poetry but was said so simply, so truly. The phrase had stuck with me for reasons I couldn’t articulate at the time, but recently had been repeating in my brain over and over. I went to write it down and what came out was the first lines of the song: “Who was it that said that I was Mary Magdalene, you were Jesus, and you’d be there to see me at my deathbed? I don’t know….” The bookend of being uncertain and questioning the source of this phrase came out of me while writing it down, and was not the phrase as I’d been thinking for so long, nor part of the original memory. But that told me that both poetically and personally I wasn’t sure how many times I had heard something like this, or been subject to this exact situation in different relationships–or, even deeper, if I was just as guilty for assigning myself that role in the relationship as Mr. Jesus was. Which is just my favorite thing ever, probably my biggest inspiration, that being the moments where the music or the lyrics show itself to you, and it then becomes your job to be curious about it and find a structure and meaning for it. It’s like therapy, or like tricking yourself into figuring out what you’re so obsessed about. I definitely don’t try to intellectualize it at the beginning and just let phrases come to me, and once I’ve gotten a good chunk of those phrases I sift the meaning out and piece them together with bridging ideas.
UH: What weight did these religious allegories in the story hold for you? Especially in the context of a complex, and rather, challenging relationship.
TC: The allegory of Jesus comes from that moment I mentioned, and the realization of how true that sentiment was, not only in the relationship I shared with that person but honestly in so many of my intense (and particularly romantic) relationships. The song is about what happens when you fall in love with someone that is the Jesus of their environment or their art—someone (often a man) who is revered, someone who exudes endless love and friendship and encouragement in a true way to their community and in their work. When they funnel this into romance, it seems full and true, they see you for who you are and often this has to do with a shared art. But because they’re Jesus, it’s tumultuous, complicated. You rely on their love, but their greatness might stand in the way of being able to pursue that, or their righteousness or their inability to actually believe that you, the Mary Magdalene in the relationship, can be as great as them — “when I try my hand you hold it, say you understand my depth, but it scares you when you hear all of the wanting on my breath.” But that wanting—for the same greatness they’re pursuing, your desire for them and their love—was fed to you earlier in the song when they laid you down and gave you their blood, desire, and encouragement, and saw you for who you were—“I don’t know, but please lay me down and bring wine to my top lip, I seem to drink your wanting and the sound that it came with.” Mary is the thing that gets left behind when Jesus has to go be pure and Jesus, and it leaves a whole mess of complication. Mary always comes back though, and Jesus always lets her back, because their connection is addicting. I think there isn’t really a bad guy in the situation, I mean Jesus had to be Jesus after all. It’s just the way life and love goes… but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to write a song about it!
UH: The landscape that you create with the instrumentals and whispered vocals bring out these moments of tension and release. Where did you push yourself when engaging with this fuller sound? Was there anything outside of your comfort zone you were drawn to?
TC: I love that you describe the instrumentals as “tension and release,” because I think that relates to so many aspects of this song—the relationship it describes, the feeling it’s based on, and my experience making the song itself. I wanted to lean into the idea that there is a part of the song that is sort of danceable, or at least fun to drive really fast to. I just wanted to see how many textures I could fit into it—the distorted strings add this drama and greatness, but there’s also this strange little synth rhythm in there at the end for humor. I didn’t feel out of my comfort zone exactly, but I was definitely trying to embrace having fun with the music, especially because the lyrics are so confessional and dramatic. My therapist always suggests that in times where you can’t see your way out of thinking patterns that you should laugh at yourself, be like, “Girl, you’re being ridiculous,” and literally laugh at yourself out loud. I definitely have been trying to do this with my art, and it’s very easy to do it in music since it’s such a hobby and therapy for me and I have no bigger expectations for it.
UH: Has your relationship with the way you record music changed as you begin to focus on more dense instrumentals and sounds?
TC: This is such a good question, one I hadn’t really considered directly. “Greatest” was the first track I’ve ever made completely within Logic with software instruments, sans the vocals of course, and I have to say, it was a lot of fun. The freedom you get with a fully produced track is insane. The amount of control you’re afforded and the quality of the sound is really delightful and not necessarily simpler but in my experience easier than recording acoustic instruments. There is a fullness to the sounds I can create on my computer that I can’t do at my novice level with real-life instruments. I’m still at the point where I’m either recording from my phone and manually syncing it to the tracks or borrowing an interface (from one of my best friends and fellow artist Jordan Tomasello ;3… in the few hours of the day they’re not using it lol). So when I am drawn toward these deeper and fuller sounds I am most likely reaching for something electronic, even if I am pairing it with an acoustic instrument. I really like that this choice built from necessity—to combine acoustic and electronic—becomes a language of my work and a seemingly creative choice. Like I sort of touched on earlier, I love the process of music that comes to me or has to arrive to fix a problem that ends up shaping the meaning and larger structure of what it is I’m making and trying to say, and I think this has come out in the way I record my music as well.
With pronounced earnestness and vision, Slake has shared their debut single “bonecollector” with us last week, along with an accompanying music video. Previously writing and releasing songs under their own name, California-based songwriter Mary Claire has unveiled a new moniker and a new sonic direction to embrace. As a DIY solo artist since 2018, with two self-recorded albums to show for it, last summer Mary Claire traveled to Hudson Valley, New York to record Slake’s debut album Let’s Get Married, set to be released June 20th, with Ryan Albert (Babehoven) and a collection of other talents that help bring this new project to life.
As steady guitars lay out ethereal tones and each vocal part motivates the track’s movement with both beauty and empathy, “Bonecollector” becomes a moment of tension and release, as Mary Claire steps out of their comfort zone in more ways than one. We recently got to ask Mary Claire some questions about the new project and to take a deep dive into the single and music video for “Bonecollector”.
ugly hug: “Bonecollector” is your first release under the new moniker Slake. What parts of this song feel like a new beginning to you?
Mary Claire: I feel like everything about this song is representative of a new beginning. I wrote this song after a dream i had. It was kind of scary, kind of prophetic, and it just didn’t let up. it kind of bled out into my real life, all that dream stuff from that time. There was a time before the “bonecollector”, and there was a time after. I was in-between worlds then, I was at a major crossroads of my life. i’m happy i got this song down during that time.
“bonecollector” touches on how we learn skills in order to survive, how we develop ways of being in the world so that our experience can be livable, maybe even bearable, maybe even good. but sometimes, these skills or defenses or attributes we’ve built up and gotten so good at start to become detrimental to us as our lives change – because the war we were fighting is over, the people are all different people, the town is new, the everything has shifted. so, we have to develop some newness, some new useful skills, and likely say goodbye to the old skills. and that unknown can be insanely scary and even feel threatening to the parts of you that desperately want to stay but are holding you back, that aren’t serving you, that are hurting you.
“bonecollector” is a little message in a bottle urging listeners to look at our ways of being and give them a little dusting off, a refresh, or some time in the sun in order to change into something new that aligns with your shifting life. and say thank you to your old skills too. because if you’re like me, the old skills won’t go down without a fight.
“bonecollector” is all about the guardian at the threshold before change. i guess “bonecollector” is entirely about newness. and i feel like the fullness in its production, the additions that come from collaboration, and the richness and rise & fall in its sonic story line are representative of that.
uh: Your previous two releases were both self recorded and self released, but Let’s Get Married brings in a whole cast of collaborators. What was it like shifting this process and what did you learn about yourself as an artist by working with others?
mc: i loved recording, mixing, and mastering this album with other people. bridge oona and lil made me feel very safe and supported and special while we recorded this album. ryan is an incredible producer and engineer. i’d never worked with a producer before and it just makes so much sense to me now – it really works with my brain to have someone like that there. i have a lot of big ideas and big feelings but sometimes i get stuck because i don’t know how to do what im envisioning. trusting others with my little world was very hard and vulnerable and rewarding, and made me more open and trusting to collaborating in general. i tend to have a pretty strict but not always clear vision of what i want to do artistically, so working with everyone on this record made me see better. i can be a little controlling about what i want or what i think i want with my art, but during this experience i just told myself to say yes as much as possible. and it was always always worth it. and so if i didn’t like something, i had to really know why i was saying no. and that is a helpful exercise. i learned how to work with others more efficiently and fully and openly. i’m not perfect at it, but i learn a little bit more every day. i’ve got dreams too big to try and do them alone. i’m glad everyone i worked with believed in my dreams and believed in me and believed in themselves.
uh: What was the vision for the music video and how did it come together?
mc: literally my only motivating factor was to get a bald guy in this video. i had a million different ideas that ranged from getting like one hundred different and unique bald people in a bar to having a super lonely barfly at the jukebox. then i saw this regular at a karaoke bar in san francisco give a very earnest and moving performance, so that was it. i initially thought id just have the video be of him singing in the bar, but talking to seth the DP of the video, he convinced me it needed more. eventually, i warmed up to the idea of including more in the video. i was reluctant at first because i really just wanted my bald man to be the only one. but seth wondered what might be playing on the karaoke TV, and then a world of possibilities opened. we kind of thought we’d do like a shot for shot remake of george michael’s careless whisper to have as the karaoke backing video, but i was walking around berlin on my birthday listening to the song and i thought it’d be more fun to be in tights. so that’s where the jazzercise thing came from. obviously seth was down. there’s so much awesome 80s female bodybuilding stuff that helped inspire the video. and when the day of the shoot came and two of my friends dads and one stranger from craigslist arrived, it felt like a perfect amount of bald men.
i’d never worked on such a professional video before and i felt very taken care of by all the guys on set. once again, i just said yes to as much as i could and opened myself up to being vulnerable.
i often too feel like when you have a big sad song, it can be hard to have a big sad video to go with it – you have a real opportunity to get through to people in a new and entirely different way through the visual medium of your music video. it’s incredible to me. so i wanted to do something funny, because even though i write kind of serious grief-laden emotional music, i would consider myself pretty funny. hopefully my friends think so too. it was a nice opportunity to express myself and my sense of humor, and see if the song could stand up to all we threw at it. i feel like it did, and im proud of it.
uh: What can listeners expect from this new project Slake?
mc: that’s a good question, one i don’t fully have an answer to. it’s changing a lot, but my creative life feels bigger and more alive than it ever was. it’s kind of overwhelming. i really want to push myself and create with discipline and get out of my comfort zone. right now this looks like trusting other people to collaborate with, and it’s been totally awesome and hard and worth it. the band is big and full, and I’m hoping to walk the dynamic line of earnest storytelling and lyrically forward songwriting with a larger louder performance. i like to world-build. Slake listeners can expect to be in my big little world.
You can listen to “bonecollector” out everywhere now. Let’s Get Married is set to be released June 20th via Cherub Dream Records.
Written by Shea Roney | Featured Photo Courtesy of Slake
Today, Massachusetts-based duo Taxidermists return with a new single, “Does The Wind Know”, the second track from their upcoming record 20247 out March 7th via Danger Collective Records. As childhood best friends who first met on Myspace in 2007, Cooper B. Handy (aka LUCY) and Salvadore McNamara have since expanded their relationship into building their own unique world of DIY creativity and label pushing sounds as they continue to look ahead into what is possible.
With the click of the drumsticks, Taxidermists barge in with brash tones and a running progression as the duo drives forward with simplistic coverage and a charming intensity – pushing their gear to the limit with a type of reciprocating dance brought out by the heart of the song. With short, choppy chants, a repetition of the very question, “does the wind know”, bouncing between verse and chorus with charged excitement, the duo takes on this post-punk antiquity with the grace of two friends who are in it for the love of the game.
Listen to “Does The Wind Know” below!
20247 is set to be released on March 7th via Danger Collective Records. You can pre-order the record now as well as a vinyl and CD copy.
Written by Shea Roney | Featured Photo by Harry Wohl
Today, Bedridden announced that their debut LP, Moths Strapped to Each Other’s Backs will be out on Aprill 11th via Julia’s War. Hatched by Jack Riley in his college years in New Orleans, Bedridden is now a Brooklyn based project, joined by drummer Nicholas Pedroza, bassist Sebastian Duzian and guitarist Wesley Wolffe. The individual members boast backgrounds ranging from jazz to metal, these influences subtly feeding the identity and rapport built over a shared proclivity for volume. Bedridden accompanied the album announcement with the release of “Etch”, a track both promising for those fond of their 2023 release Amateur Hearthrob and sure to dredge up new listeners. The rhythmically dense EP is sort of like if Friday Night Lights had a sludgy power pop soundtrack, wrapping notions of home runs and cheek kisses from cheerleaders in a sea of angsty guitar. It wields enough fuzz to form a foreboding cloud of grunge, but not enough to sand down any rough edges. Bedridden’s apt for animated riffs and sports novelties merely exist as a padding for the loneliness and anxieties that trickle out of their seemingly unguarded arenas of noise.
“Etch” is a wrathful track that explores the burdens of one’s own rage, armed with brooding guitar harmonies and scatterings of sports vernacular. It purges interpersonal animosities as Riley recalls a victorious fight dream, his vocals dodging harmony as he pummels through lines of “meet my knuckles” and “he can’t breathe, he can’t see without his eyewear”. Though the dream follows his rules, meandering in and out of NBA references and ending with the sweet satisfaction of the antagonist warming his own bench, there is an ambiguity to “Etch” that feels familiar whether or not you have access to any sports channels. The erratic and combative feel evoked by the song’s lack of a tonal center recalls an innately human kind of anger, an overwhelm that can sometimes only be soothed by aggressive figments of our own imagination.
In a statement about the track, Riley shares “‘Etch’ was a rhythmic accident that didn’t stem from any direct inspiration. The irregular triplet line came to me first and sounded somber, yet hostile. It lent itself well to phrases I had written not about heartbreak, but about the subsequent temper that it had induced. I was dreaming of fighting, I was dreaming of winning that fight and lastly dreaming of defaming my competitor. The song is frantic and doesn’t have a tonal center. With its weaving guitar harmonies laid underneath countering vocal melodies, it sounds to me like that regretful fistfight that I was longing for.”
Listen to “Etch” here.
Moths Strapped To Each Other’s Backs is set to be released April 11th via Julia’s War Recordings. You can now pre-order the album as well as a cassette tapes now.
Written by Manon Bushong | Featured Photo by Sam Plouff
Today, Spring Onion, the recording project of Philadelphia-based artist Catherine Dwyer, returns with a brand-new song “Anger Acceptance”, marking the first single from her upcoming album Seated Figure set to be released March 14th via Anything Bagel. Having been a player in several Philly favorites, such as 22° Halo, 2nd Grade and Remember Sports, it is now Dwyer’s turn for a full-length endeavor, as Seated Figure is a collection of personal expression six years in the making.
“Anger Acceptance” begins with a very certain two chord progression, one of familiarity that defined a generation of not just youthful angst, but an exhilaration into a rather open and definitive moment of emotional recognition for countless individuals. The track begins clean, but full, as Dwyer sings, “I could have killed the man that told me / And I wish I killed him still,” apt to the gritty undertones that are waiting to be let loose. “We learned a lot about each other / I guess love’s a useful skill / that only matters if I make it / and with all my words I will,” becomes a marker all on its own, as the song erupts into a controlled burn of chaos and clarity, as Dwyer recognizes the beauty that lingers behind no matter how imperfect it may feel. “Anger Acceptance” is not a ploy for nostalgia per se, but rather a moment of gratitude, a recalling of what it was like to be young and angry before life goes on without a say in which direction.
About the song, Dwyer says, “This was the first song I wrote after my dad passed away from lung cancer in October 2020. I was alone, recovering from covid, listening exclusively to Nirvana, and stewing in the anger they say accompanies a great loss.”
Listen to “Anger Acceptance” premiering here on the ugly hug.
Seated Figure is set to be released March 14th with both a vinyl and cassette pressing from Anything Bagel. The album features longtime collaborators Julian Fader (Ava Luna), Carmen Perry (Remember Sports) and Francis Lyons (Ylayali), among others.
Listen to Spring Onion’s last release i did my taxes for free online.
Written by Shea Roney | Featured Photo Carmen Perry
Following the anticipation of their last track “Stop Me If You’ve Heard This Before” released earlier this month, rugh return today with “For Steven”, the final single from the Gainesville, Florida trio before the release of their debut album Rug, out on February 21st. With just a handful of releases prior, Macy Lamers, Liza Goldstein and Sawyer Lamers have upped the ante of their gritty intensity and candid vulnerability as rugh showcase the strengths within their dynamic compositions.
Nestling within a groove of temptatious energy, “For Steven” plays out from the trio’s garnered intuition, unwavering in the pace of a dreamy display as each member exudes their own individual voicings with both precision and unique passion. Combing through frustrations like a thinning bristled broom, lines like, “And the drugs in your blood aren’t going to be there for good”, remain as Macy’s crooning vocals collect up some of the blemishes of impending doom, clearing out a sort of pathway for the weight of the instrumentation to carry this newfound release to the end. “[For Steven is] an existential power anthem about how I don’t know what I’m doing, so naturally I can’t know what you are either,” says Macy. “Each verse is a run-on sentence, and the melody gets all tangled up just to fall into a rudimentary chorus again. I want to draw a stupid parallel to life here, but I’ll leave it.” It isn’t long before the track implodes in a crunchy haze of distortion and blown out amps, but rugh’s ability to play with both conflicting sensations and sheer earnestness make them a band worth keeping an eye on.
“For Steven” is accompanied by a music video conceptualized, directed and edited by Macy. Watch below!
Rug is set to be released on February 21st and will be celebrated with a release show on February 22nd. You can listen to their previously released single “Stop Me If You’ve Heard This Before” below.
Built upon a vivid display of collaboration and curiosity, Amigos Imaginarios is an experimental duo composed of Arbol Ruiz (Paris via Columbia) and Caleb Chase (Worcester, MA), whose blend of stylized structures, pressurized electronics and sweet flavored twee had offered quite the impression on their first two records, Pick Flowers (2021) and El Jardin Encantado (2022), both released via Bud Tapes. Now Amigos Imaginarios announce their forthcoming LP titled Ice Cream, and to celebrate have shared the first single from the cycle called “Voy corriendo”.
In just 90 seconds, “Voy corriendo” is both a subtle and sweet affair amongst the electronic tinkerings and unruffled harmonies that Ruiz and Chase use to create a green patch of charm and sustainability within its bizarre, and almost dilapidated presence. With a title that roughly translates to “I’m running” or “I’m on my way”, “Voy corriendo” flows with this whimsy of wonder, remaining both playful yet poignant in its short, and oddly charming life – like a beloved children’s toy at the end of its battery life, whose charisma is wearing down despite remaining true to its colorful demeanor and purposeful responsibility for play.
Ice Cream marks the first Amigos Imaginarios project that was made in person, having been a fully collaborative project only through email up to this point.
Along with the single, Amigos Imaginarios also shared a music video featuring a 2000% saturated video with a collection of adorable dog clipart. Watch “Voy corriendo” here!
Ice Cream will be released January 10th via up and coming Brooklyn tape label, TV-14 Recordings. You can preorder a cassette now. Check out the rest of TV-14’s catalog here.
Today, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Avery Friedman shares her long awaited debut single, “Flowers Fell”. Having frequented bills with artists such as Sister. and Dead Gowns for the past year, Friedman has consistently left an impression on those that have caught her sets, oftentimes performing solo, creating a space in which her vivid imagery and tender melodies greet new ears with welcome and understanding. Produced by James Chrisman (Sister.) and with contributions from Felix Walworth (Told Slant, Florist), “Flowers Fell” plays to the in-between moments as Friedman defines new beginnings.
Photo by Mamie Heldman
“Flowers Fell” begins in a reverberated haze, rearing guitars and diluted vocals hold their breath, awaiting that very first line that Friedman drives out— “The flowers fell off when I was asleep / But it’s okay ’cause now its all green” — blindsided, but not disappointed. Soon the chorus becomes definite, Friedman’s vocals wield both strength and tenderness as the melody leads with its whole chest and instrumentation follows in a potent groove. “How long can you mourn for something that was always supposed to blossom into something stronger?” Friedman asks in a statement — a combination of both grief and vitality. As the song begins to close out, the ghosts of distortion and the swarming of sonic fixations underneath begin to blend, holding the surrounding static accountable as a full picture begins to clear up.
“Flowers Fell” is accompanied by a music video, directed, filmed, VFX, and handwritten lyrical text by Nara Avakian. Watch it here.
You can stream “Flowers Fell” on all platforms now.