Modern Nun, who describe themselves as ‘queering their religious upbringing’, have developed a type of spirituality brought out by refinement and shared experience as they navigate their place in music, community and identity. But as they have continued to grow, now composed of Edie Mckenna (guitar, vocals), Haley Webster (drums), Lee Simmons (guitar) and Sam Peifer (bass), Modern Nun hold an edge to progression, a searing bit of hindsight and a little caution to the wind, as the group cuts through with both ambition and empathy. Today Modern Nun is sharing their new single “Lunch”, the second track released ahead of their upcoming EP It All out November 7th.
The band comes in as a rock n roll force, playing with a noticeable punch as “Lunch” soon breaks for immediacy amongst heavy instrumentation and gritty textures. The song feels heavier than previous Modern Nun tracks, not one solely in debt to any malice, but rather laying out an array of options for the picking as McKenna’s voice soars with deep intention. Combing through the give and takes of a soured relationship with a thinning bristled broom, McKenna sings, “I’m fantastic and you’re just alright/ I keep my sunglasses on at night”, searing with self-worth as the track collects up anything less than what is expected. These feelings are messy and sometimes unforgiving, but “Lunch” leans into it, like glue on the tips of your fingers, becoming an obsession as you peel off piece after piece. And as the guitars grumble and the drums crash with such intensity, there is some relief that comes from shedding something that was lucky enough to be a part of you for just a second.
Listen to “Lunch” here;
It All is set to be released November 7th. You can listen to Modern Nun’s other single “Unkind” as well as all their previous releases anywhere you find your music.
Sonically, the most authentic of the underground bands are the ones that are recording themselves, gigging around, and making an effort to create an all-around good music community. Bullseye, a New York City-based outfit are doing just that. Bullseye are among some of the most exciting bands that seem to just be flowing out of The Big Apple. They are a newer band who are highlighting NYC’s current underground scene through their commitment to making genuine music, fronting the wave of New York-youth-bands that are keeping DIY alive. With the release of their self-titled first EP, the band has cemented themselves as one of the most promising, having recorded and produced the whole EP on their own. Certainly “on the target,” so to speak, with their embodiment of DIY.
I recently interviewed Jake Barczak, the band’s frontman, on the band’s influences, recording process, and upcoming shows, in hopes of putting their music onto the radar of fans of Pavement, The Spatualas, Guv’ner, and perhaps even early Mirah.
The Roundabout is our newest column put together by Ruby O’Brien, brining a focus to youth bands across the country.
First, I’d like to start out by asking you to introduce yourselves and what you each play. Tell me how the band came to be!
OK, well, I’m Humberto and I play the drums. I’m Clara and I play bass. I’m Oliver and I play guitar. I’m Jake and I too play a guitar and I sing. I just typed all those responses myself but they all say hello. The band formulated around my (Jake’s) songwriting attempts about 5 years ago during Covid… I made some demos that I sat on for a while, and then eventually formed a band around. It really came together when I reconnected with Oliver who I knew a couple years ago, and Clara who I played in a band with in Minneapolis when I was 12, and met a number of Texan newcomers to NYC, Humberto, Leighton, Tyler, and the like. All crazy talented people.”
What are you guys individually inspired by, movies, art, music, etc, and how does that relate to what you collectively sound like? Do you think that your individuality creates a cohesive sound or do you ever find that songwriting can be a little more chaotic? I think this Tour Tape you guys put together last March certainly has one unified sound: I’m definitely picking up Pavement or Butterglory sounds through most of the EP, but then there are one-off songs like “Shine A Light On” with the Casio drum machine that sound a lot like Helevetia or something like that.
I think we all bring different backgrounds to the band (hah bet you didn’t see THAT coming). I’m like hardcore into melody and song I feel… Oliver has the ability to take that and make it slightly or even significantly more evil (still sounds like sunshine maybe right) and Clara has her own stripe of indie rock she’s bringing on the bass. Humberto, too, brings a certain type of Rock n Roll background, and I think like an eye/ear for detail that comes from his jazz-level drumming capability and schooling in the ways of design. He’s our wabi-sabi guy, maybe. I think we have a lot in common, but also pretty heterogeneous tastes… which, if you play enough with a scrambled mix of influences, eventually something textured and shiny and awesome is gonna come out. Not sure that’s happened, but I feel like that’s what we might be capable of doing on a good day.
The EPs you guys have out so far tend to be a mix of lo-fi and hi-fi. Do you guys track everything yourselves? I’m curious what your recording process is like.
I tracked like 60% of the songs that are out on the internet already with my phone. People talk about this a lot, but the compression that a phone speaker/system does can be kind of juicy. Other tracks I’ve done with friends and band members. Jasper Leach recorded the second two tracks on the Bullseye EP with a computer + interface and played bass. Oliver recorded “Shine A Light On” in a similar way. The recording process is patchwork and kinda case-by-case.
When you sit down to write a song, who is generally coming to the band with the ideas? Or is the songwriting process a jam with lyrics that come later?
So far it’s me… but the door is open…… I hear Jason Shapiro is doing commissions for songs so…… maybe he will write the next release.
What was the most exciting show you guys have played so far and why?
We had a good time playing Bazooka Fest, put on by pal of the band Jake Whitener.” Jake plays in another awesome NYC band called the Sunshine Convention. “We played outside during a hot sunny day. Friends, Good Flying Birds (amongst many amazing other bands) were on that bill, we’ve been happy to share a stage with them… like 3 times? They rock a lot.
Where do you guys hope to take the band in the future? Do you want to be DIY, or something even bigger?
I just want to keep writing and putting out music that I like and following it and supporting those around me doing the same thing. SO whatever that looks like.
NYC locals can check out Bullseye at Bread & Roses DIY indie music fest at the end of September, which will be happening 9/26-9/28. If you aren’t based in NYC, have no fear. Bullseye is certainly on the come up and will be in your city in no time.
You can listen to Bullseye’s two EPs anywhere you find your music as well as snag a tape of their Feb ’25 Tour now!
Written by Ruby O’Brien | Featured Photo Courtesy of Bullseye
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 Ottawa-based artist and cartoonist Hannah Judge of the project fanclubwallet.
With beaming soundscapes and gritty guitars that scratch like doodles, spilling over the pages and blending with anything they touch, fanclubwallet brings a big heart and a bit of rowdiness into full color with their steadily growing catalog of indie pop songs. Hannah’s songwriting revels in its natural cadence, like banter tossed back and forth with a friend, where the stories she tells are full of trust and encouragement to join in. But what fanclubwallet does so well is build up a space of their own, a secret hideout made to be a perfect fit. One where each bit of wall is prime real estate for the most epic personalization. One where it’s okay to store your chewed bubblegum under the furniture because who’s going to say no? One where it’s okay to leave your headphones tangled and your stereo on blast, as long as the tunes are right for this very moment.
About the playlist, Hannah shared;
This is a list of my favourite weird little songs, things that play in the back of my head, songs that might soundtrack a midnight snack on the kitchen floor. Just a little weird but amazing!
fanclubwallet has also shared their brand-new single “Know You Anymore”, the third taste test from their upcoming record Living While Dying. Listen here!
fanclubwallet is set to release their next record Living While Dying October 24th via Lauren Records. You can preorder the record now as well as on vinyl, CD and cassette.
Written by Shea Roney | Photo Courtesy of fanclubwallet
Singer-songwriter Caleb Jefson, best known as Marble Teeth, has always made music that sounds like it could fall apart at any second – that’s exactly why it matters. there was a huge crowd of people gathered in the street reads small, uneven, and at times uncomfortable. Yet, it’s one of the clearest statements from a project that has built a world on imperfection.
Five songs, acoustic at their core – this EP extends the small central Illinois artist’s commitment to small-scale intimacy while pulling harder on collage and interruption. Memory fragments, incidental noise, disjunction; it’s a continuation of the lofi folk lineage that runs through Phil Elverum’s The Glow Pt. 2 and the early Alex G. cassettes – but also belongs to the current ecosystem of Bandcamp folk that refuses polish as a matter of principle.
“Celebration Story” plants its feet in a space that feels domestic and immediate: guitar and voice in close proximity, neither heightened nor diminished. The voice reads in a tone reminiscent of Shel Silverstein, folk stripped to its infrastructure. Following into “Power Bill Blues”, the EP’s stakes are made clear: everyday life not as metaphor but as material. Like Daniel Johnston or Jeffrey Lewis, it insists that the banal is narratively significant.
The center of the record – “Sudden Remembrance, Unfinished Business” – stretches the form outwards. The intrusion of collage, half-baked thoughts, disruptions of fidelity, places Marble Teeth closer to the restless experimentation of Told Slant or Lomelda than to any cleanly defined folk category. “When the Water Broke the Dam” serves as an interruption to the streamlined melodic twang that follows through the record, dropping octaves into a sharp, decisive burst that may or may not land with the listener – yet packs that punch necessary at the core.
Closer “Big Glass… The Lousy Lifetime of a Lowly Cog (icantseemyfaceinthemirror)” sprawls without release. It circles the anxieties with no exit strategy, pulling the listener into its own sense of exhaustion. It fully embodies the EP’s refusal of resolution, staying raw, unadorned, uncomfortable.
This is music less designed for playlists and more designed for personal archives – the kind of record that gets passed from hand to hand on blogs and reviews sites, accruing weight through repetition rather than reach. Marble Teeth isn’t making folk to scale up; they’re refining its scale down to the point of friction.
You can listen to there was a huge crowd of people gathered in the street anywhere you find your music and you can purchase the album now on bandcamp.
It would be difficult for me to write about a Nara’s Room remix EP without referencing the feature I wrote on Nara Avakian earlier this year. We spoke about three months following the release of Glassy star; the 2024 record offering up a foundation for a more comprehensive conversation on the project’s ethos and ever-expanding nature. When discussing their songwriting, they enthused about their bandmates ability to contort or enhance music they wrote from a personal and sometimes even guarded place.
“They evolve the meaning and turn something that is very private and singular into something much more nuanced”, Nara told me in January – a quote I think back on each time I listen to Glassy was the sky.
Last month, Nara’s Room shared Glassy was the sky – a remix EP of Glassy star and the latest feat to stem from the project’s emphasis on the potential for art to evolve. It consists of seven tracks and features contributions from Sister., fantasy of a broken heart, Hausholding, good.will, Brendan Jones, and Shallowater.
“Sister., fantasy of a broken heart, Shallowater, and Hausholding are some of my favorite bands currently”, Nara explains, “good.will, aka Will Fisher, our Ambient Duty player, and Brendan , our drummer contributed as well to the EP which was special because I loved hearing their own interpretations of the songs outside of their roles in arranging them. Will wasn’t a part of the project when we recorded ‘Glassy star,’ so it was special to have him on too.”
Glassy was the sky houses two versions of “Glassy star”, the original record’s emotional closing track. On Glassy star, it takes a coarser form than the tracks that precede it, stripping down the fuzz and sonic eccentricities to end on a moment of uninhibited vulnerability. In doing so, “Glassy star” perfectly captures the moment between naivety and what comes next, as Nara sings “Nineteen’s a funny time to be, the world’s only just started.” These layered and complex feelings pour onto both renditions on Glassy was the sky, though both projects manage to do so in a way that feels authentic to their own sound.
“Sister. and Shallowater’s wildly different interpretations of ‘Glassy star’ only expanded the universe of the song and it was special to hear the way the raw emotions in the original were interpreted by them”, Nara says of both “Glassy star” versions.
Glassy was the sky also contains a version of “Teeth” by Hausholding that Nara deems “so freaky, in the best way”, an exhilarating fantasy of a broken heart rendition of ‘Grape juice’, and a version of ‘Holden’ by Brendan Jones that honors the tracks original ballad form. It ends with “Like ivory – duo version” ft. good.will, a track that Nara describes as an “epilogue of sorts”, adding, “hearing his rendition almost gave me closure.”
Dan Knishkowy, the creative stamina behind the New York project Adeline Hotel, recently announced the project’s return with his new record Watch the Sunflowers out October 24th via Ruination Records. Today, the ugly hug is premiering the second single “Just Like You”, a stunning display of attachment and self-agency in the face of a deeply rooted patterns.
“Dog tooth violence, rare blood run. Where’s my wild rose? Where will I become,” Knishkowy begins, his words linger like footsteps in an empty hallway, each step more and more pronounced as the direction and distance becomes more clear. As the track falls into its groove, ruminating in varying textures of strings and rich colors of instrumental shadows, a defiant guitar solo breaks through, dripping with distortion and unaligned with any classic structure, as “Just Like You” becomes a dynamic exchange, a transfer of self as Knishkowy pulls from this deep need to disengage with what he knows best. It’s a song that grapples with the ghosts that we have yet to become acquainted with, but Knishkowy’s writing has always held an edge to perspective, animating their presence with both curiosity and foretold hindsight when the moment comes to look those ghosts in the eyes. And in classic Adeline Hotel commotion, he shakes out the dust of folkloric expectations as the fluent instrumentation, the crack of the drums and the weightless harmonies begin to pack up their belongings and make their way to the door.
About the single, Knishkowy shares, “We started Sunflowers and left it unfinished for years. On returning, we felt inspired to totally reimagine it, ripping it apart to its bones and rebuilding it into a kaleidoscopic experience. We very much took the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot approach of ‘well, we made it, so we can also destroy it if we want to.’
The song itself mirrors that process, taking a hard look at ingrained patterning and the attempt to grow beyond that. Whether inherited generational trauma (‘in the hallways of my skin’), or the safe appeal of culturally sacred institutions, the narrator decides not to acquiesce any longer to the ease of familiarity (‘I cannot kneel’).
The titular line remains elusive still, even to me. Is it ‘I’m just like you’, a self-aware acknowledgement of how deep that conditioning goes, or ‘I just like you’, the rare feeling of connection you find with a person also committed to breaking these cycles?”
You can listen to “Just Like You” anywhere you find your music as well as preorder Watch the Sunflowers on vinyl.
Generifus is the long-running project of songwriter Spencer Sult, who today is sharing Best Of, a collection encompassing twenty years of songwriting released via Perpetual Doom. Coming up through Olympia, where projects like Generifus have been acclimated to the ever-shifting scenes, Sult still manages to craft his own path through the years, building up a project of fulfillment and joy as he now reflects on his time sharing music.
I first became privy to Generifus after 2023’s release, Rearrangle, when digging through the catalog of Butte’s Anything Bagel and Portland’s Bud Tapeson their split release. This record became a haven of connections, a collection of formative stories that lived full lives within these lighthearted tunes. But with each release over the years, Sult’s words have stuck with both fondness and experience, like snacks for the road and change in your pocket, something to hold on to for when you need it most. With albums like 2012’s Back in Time or 2016’s Peace Sign Rising, his writing became rooted in both placement and perspective, where the minor moments of joy, confusion, heartbreak and clarity become a reflection point that we can all anchor to. With such a deep catalog to explore, Generifus paints a picture much larger than we can initially take in, but Best Of is an album built on gratitude, understanding the role in which sharing music has played in his life, and offering a space to look at how far he has come.
We recently got to ask Sult a few questions regarding the Best Of release, reflecting on his career and sharing music for two decades.
Photo by Sarah Cass
This interview was conducted over email
What does it mean to you to have such a long-term project? Did you foresee the longevity in this curation and creativity when you were starting out back in 2005? What made you keep returning to this little world you have constructed?
Having such a long running project makes me proud and also gives my life meaning, as the project and my life are pretty completely intertwined after 20 years. When I was starting out, I did not foresee anything in particular. The project began as mostly instrumental and ambient, I had no idea I would even learn to write songs or sing at that point. Once I started playing shows, things progressed gradually and everything I did from then on made sense under this project name. I sought advice about potentially moving to performing under my own name around 2019, but it didn’t seem to be a smart move based on the body of work I had already created as Generifus.
Looking back now at your catalog, are there any risks or shifts that you tried out and can look back on with fondness as a memorable moment in the project’s history? And vice versa, anything you can look back at and maybe laugh at and be okay leaving in the past?
Both in recording and live performance, starting to collaborate with other people on my music has been the biggest and most rewarding shift. I believe that listeners can recognize my music regardless of who’s playing with me, based on the mood and my presence, but many of my favorite moments on records are those played by others. My song “Wouldn’t I” where I rap a bridge is a bit silly and caught in a certain moment where I was trying to interpret Young Thug and Gunna in the way that Kyle Field had with Lil’ Wayne. It is slightly embarrassing now.
What sort of things were you discovering about yourself and the stories you were writing from as you were starting out? Has that lens shifted as you got older? Are you able to make sense of a path or linear growth through your catalog as you look back on it now?
When I was starting out, I relied heavily on imagery and metaphor for my songwriting content. Over time I felt more comfortable including personal references, while never being fully confessional or self-referential. The sweet spot that I have found success with has been to create vague but recognizable imagery coupled with specific relatable details. I think that the variety of songs has grown and changed along with me, not necessarily linear but definitely always shifting.
What were the conversations around creating a ‘Best Of’ album for Generifus? That practice feels rare these days, more of something you would pick up in an old CD collection. Does that nostalgia factor play into this release at all for you?
I had some great Best Of and Greatest Hits CDs such as Tom Petty and Fleetwood Mac and they are always a good entry point for any artist. Especially those who may not have physical music in constant print. Nostalgia was not a huge factor in deciding to work on this release, but I did want to create a good starting point for my large back catalog.
How did you go about choosing which tracks best fit this momentous project?
To choose the tracks for this album, I started with my Olympia-era releases as the earlier material was somewhat rough and not as memorable. I picked songs that were performed often, ones that I’ve received lots of good feedback on, some that have amassed relatively higher streams on Bandcamp and other streaming services, and some that were favorites of the band to play live. I tried to spread the tracklist pretty evenly from those albums from 2009-2023.
Beginning the project back in 2005 with a handful of self-releases, and then continuing on, working with new people, friends and labels more frequently, how did this project shape the way you approach collaboration and relationships, both in and out of music?
Relationships formed from musical collaboration are so important to me. When I listen back to the Free Ways album, for example, I think about the fun times we had recording it in Anacortes as much as the songs. I’ve toured and hosted shows, and made music with so many people over the years. This is the basis of my social life and most of my relationships. While there hasn’t been a ton of outside recognition or material success from playing music, the moments created and bonds formed have given my life deep meaning and significance.
You can listen to Best Of anywhere you find your music as well as purchase a cassette via Perpetual Doom.
Written by Shea Roney | Featured Photo by Sarah Cass
Today, Motocrossed share “Drown (Country Girl)”, the second single off their upcoming debut self-titled record out October 3rd via the legendary Trash Tape Records. Coming up through Charlotte, North Carolina, this band is nothing new to the surrounding scene, although there have been some notable changes. Originally named sayurblaires, the project was formed by songwriter Blaire Fullagar, leaning into territories of digital soundscapes and emo inspired song structures. But sayurblaires soon became a project embedded with collaboration, as Colin Read (guitar), Caroyln Becht (drums) and AJ George (guitar) joined the live crew, before shortly offering to the writing process for new songs between 2023 and 2024. What came out was this newfound level of alt-country chaos as Motocrossed became the next step for the NC musicians.
In a clash of noise, Fullagar asks, “Do you wanna walk and laugh along the streetlights? We can just talk and pretend everything’s fine,” her voice falling into the motion with both confidence and an underlying layer of trust that there is something below to catch her in case she gets ahead of herself. And with that, “Drown” becomes a team effort, a culmination of distinct voicings that each bring something unique to the track, and cultivating this scenic dispute of love, curiosity, heartbreak and comradery. In the same way that we all know that Walmart parking lots have the best sunsets, the amount of noise put into the environment brings out the best of each color; loose harmonies shooting the shit amongst distorted guitars, a fiddle doing what it does best, and the rich tones from a few sax runs pull us closer into the ruckus. “Country Girl, you’re my world. But I’m not sure you should be just yet,” feels messy, but pure, and you can’t help but admire that feeling.
We recently got to talk to Blaire and Carolyn about “Drown (Country Girl)”, shifting genres, and what this project means to them.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
You made music under the name sayurblaires for a while, but now shifting genres completely and now writing and performing under the name Motocrossed, what sparked you to want to reset everything?
Blaire: So, in 2023, we started the sayurblaires band, and we would play renditions of songs on the sayurblaires album as a full band. They were fun to play, but I feel like we kind of got detached from them and we started to write new songs. They were all just way different, because I switched to writing on guitar instead of just on my computer. They turned out a lot different, of course. And so, sayurblaires just didn’t feel right, especially because we formed the band, and then it felt like we all wrote these songs together by the time that they were actually written as a full band.
Carolyn: And it was so sonically different from what we were doing as sayurblaires, which was like, a digital, emo, screamo project, and this is, way different conceptually, unrelated almost. Not unrelated, but… we’re calling ourselves alt-country now.
Blaire: The songs that we would play, the songs that eventually became Motocrossed songs, we’d play them in the middle of the sayurblaires set, and it would feel really bizarre, honestly. So, it just felt right to switch to Motocrossed, and we’ve just played shows under Motocrossed, and we’ve only played Motocross songs since then.
Did you find that there was a shift in the shows you were playing and the crowds that were coming out?
Blaire: Yeah, when we were sayurblaires we played with bands like Your Arms Are My Cocoons and Awake But Still in Bed, which I don’t think we would have gotten those shows now. They probably wouldn’t have reached out to us. It was cool, I like those bands, and I do like emo, but ultimately, now, bands that I like a lot more are reaching out, and I feel like I’m just more in the scene that I’ve always listened to.
As that original four-piece, was it natural for everyone else to adjust to this all-country route?
Blaire: Yeah, I mean, I think everybody was super down for it, especially having the ability to write their own parts instead of the ones that I wrote for them. I think it naturally played out well. Like AJ [George], our guitarist, listens to a little bit of alt-country, but mainly they listen to a lot of really, really heavy shoegaze, so what they provide for the band is all the heavy parts. And then I feel like Colin [Read], our other guitarist and lap steel player, listens to a lot of everything, so Colin’s playing just kind of goes off of whatever the thing calls for. I think that it just naturally worked out perfectly.
With these singles, it sounds like there’s so many different voicings that you’re trying out, that it feels like it should be chaotic, but it works really well. Especially going from a 4-piece to 6 members and counting, how does this inclusion of new players represent what you wanted this project to be as you were continuing to shift and evolve and try something new?
Blaire: When we started recording these songs, I already had in mind that I wanted it to be a big band. I mean, I still want to keep adding people, I’m not against going up further. I just started reaching out to people to record on these songs that I had written. Like, the 8 songs that we have right now have probably gone through 6 or 7 versions each, just sounding different from having different people record on them.
With your new single “Drown”, you’re writing about a relationship of love and worry and complexity. What did this song mean to you as you were choosing singles and how did it come together?
Blaire: I write songs in a way where I will write one part, and then that part kind of sticks with me for a while. And then eventually, I’ll find another part that goes with it. So, this song existed as three separate parts. There was the beginning, and then the middle part, the country girl part, and then there was the end. And it came together nicely once I sat down and really wrote it. But, I’d say, more than anything, it’s just a love song. I’ve had a long on-and-off relationship for 10 years that’s messy and complicated, and that’s ultimately what it’s about. The album in general is a lot of love songs, but more than anything, it’s an album about being in love with music and the people around you. “Drown” doesn’t really feel like it’s specifically about one person in any real way, but I think it’s a good representation of the album.
You can listen to “Drown (Country Girl)” anywhere you find your music. Motocrossed is set to be released Oct 3rd via Trash Tape Records which you can preorder now!
Written by Shea Roney | Photos by Valentina Calderon
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 Toronto-based artist Eva Link of the project Triples.
Originally formed as a duo with her younger sister Madeline Link (PACKS) on drums, Triples was a force, glimmering and carefree, singing rock songs that beamed with playful melodies and distortion that tangled up loose harmonies like a knot of twinkle lights. Their last full length was 2019’s Big Time, where songs of growing pains became something like a pillow fort with a sturdy foundation; a commemoration of what it meant to be disheveled, curious and imaginative in hindsight of everything you now know. Last year, Eva released “So Soon”, the first new Triples track in a a handful of years, offering a blast of both energy and sincerity; returning to the ruckus, where dance parties are scheduled because you know they’re good for you and where laughing so hard you snort through your nose is the most genuine sign of endearment.
About the playlist Eva shares;
I like to take my dog on walks in this big forested park near my house and it’s so sublime in the fall when all the leaves start to turn, the sidewalks are wet, there’s a little chill in the air. When Autumn comes around I always feel more introspective and moody and love to indulge in those feelings by listening to a playlist like this while wandering around Toronto. This playlist is a combination of 90s shoegaze-y songs, melancholy folk, and experimental indie rock that I thought all had a similarly wistful tone that would pair well with a misty fall time moment.
It’s the end of the summer. The moon is uncomfortably warm, the air is stale and still, and it’s so thick you could cut right through it. The late August nights bleed together with machine-like efficiency, and in the atonal drone of the remaining cicadas’ final chirps, an intangible feeling of intense dread swarms all daring enough to step out into this unforgiving night. The drive home is white-knuckled. The hypnotic glare of oncoming traffic engulfs the reddened retinas of the late-night travelers. The machine whirs. It feels as though everything might come crashing in at any given moment.
PORTRAiTS, the debut full-length from Kentucky-based art-rockers PARKiNG, captures this unforgiving sense of dread, unease, and mania with haunting accuracy. Its sprawling and oftentimes politically charged sound is a perfect fit for the ledge, for the cusp of collapse, and for the dreadful isolation of twenty-first-century America. Spanning ten tracks and clocking in at nearly forty-five minutes, ‘PORTRAiTS’ features pulsating post-punk explosions, haunting orchestral abstractions, and fresh takes on the last half century of art and noise rock.
‘Siren’ starts the record with Frankie T. Moore and Lizzie Cooper’s hypnotic, driving rhythm section. They’re accompanied shortly thereafter by Boss Benson’s guitar, which dances in the nostalgia of late 70s UK post-punk. Moore exhales over the sprinting track as he shouts one of the album’s defining decrees, “Feed into the sirens/Everyone knows the silence.” As the song chugs, it grows more manic, more disjointed. Benson’s guitar growls and shrieks in feedback, Moore’s wails grow more pressing, and Cooper’s bass never relents. The song crescendos into a swirling wall of sound around Moore’s non-lexical vocables.
Immediately following is ‘Thirds,’ a quasi-sung-spoken art-rock track that features the first of Moore’s manic, drowned-out narrators. Moore rambles his dissatisfactions and disillusions over Cooper’s stabs and Benson’s beautifully shambolic guitar. The monologue wanders and backtracks through conversations about the plausibility of a higher power, distressed linens piling up, poor reading material, and frustrations with socially constructed hierarchies. Its verses read like a dejected manifesto on disillusionment with the general state of well—just about everything. The singular glimmer of hope amidst the disillusionment is shouted in the chorus; Moore empathizes with our collective frustrations and isolation as he shouts, “It’s not your fault you’re out of place.”
These frustrations are further explored in ‘Lantern’ and ‘Mike Johnson is a Mechanic,’ two of the album’s most politically driven songs. ‘Lantern’ drives and bounces like a lost Joy Division track. Moore’s frantic drums are reminiscent of Stephen Morris, and Benson’s jagged guitar reads like an amped-up Bernard Sumner riff. ‘Mike Johnson is a Mechanic’ is one of two songs with leading vocals by Cooper (the other being ‘Statements’). Her blasé delivery paired with the
dancey instrumentation creates the record’s catchiest song and one of its best. She encapsulates the recurring thesis of frustration, taking political aim at our inherited issues and apathetic leaders, saying, ‘Once more/I’ve grown so tired.’ Moore maniacally shouts beneath her, and Benson shreds the record’s catchiest riff.
‘DSGN’ and ‘Observation’ are two more extremely well-crafted songs. The band proves that not only does it have something to say, but it can also produce extremely catchy and well-engineered tracks. ‘People Running Madly to Some Kind of Monolith’ is the first of two orchestral tracks. The ghastly whines of Moore’s violin, cello, and bass haunt the three-minute runtime until it dies out into swirling static and feedback. The white noise bleeds crimson into ‘Monolith,’ a seven-minute post-rock exploration of mania, dread, and delusion. This is the record’s defining piece.
Chains rattle, Cooper’s bass stalks, Benson’s bowed guitar screeches, and Moore begins his sleep-deprived, haunted narration. Moore begins speaking of his premonitions, ones so vile and so filled with dread and hatred that he “can’t bear to watch.” Benson’s guitar moans in eerie notes, and Moore pounds his drums as his narrator grows evermore paranoid: “The lies brought to attention by no one of importance. Lies that I have brought to my own attention.” He stands beneath a nauseating night facing an unknown crowd, putting us face-to-face with one of his delusions, “The wind is dark/Their eyes all glistening in the rather unpleasant but warm moonlight.” He reads this exhausted and indifferently as if trying to justify and cling to his remaining sanity.
Moore’s mania grows, and the instrumentation follows; it feels as if everything might collapse in on itself. With one final attempt to retain his sanity, he shouts the thesis for the album’s mania, “I fear/I fear what I fear might not be real.” It’s not enough clarity, and the hysteric instrumentation—the mania—overtakes Moore. Benson’s guitar screams as he bludgeons it, the drums frantically sprint in every direction, and Cooper’s bass and backing vocals loom over the volatility like the “dark wind.” Moore shouts nondescriptly, but he’s silenced by his own mania.
It plays like the score to a lost Edgar Allen Poe text. Perhaps much of the record does. ‘PORTRAiTS’ deals in mania, but the issues its narrators face are very real and very pressing. In a culture and country where isolation and extremism have spread like a common virus, ‘PARKiNG’ offers a complex take on 21st-century America that is uncompromising and blunt in its horrors yet hopeful in its anthemic refrains. Maybe amidst all this dread and unease there is comfort; maybe that comfort is simply that it isn’t all our own faults. ‘PORTRAiTS’ is the announcement of a band that can craft intelligent, ornate, and catchy songs. Their voice is distinct, urgent, and sincere.
PORTRAITS is now available anywhere you find your music. Tapes are available on the band’s Bandcamp.
the ugly hug 