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 Mark Allen Scott of villagerrr.
Scott began writing songs under the moniker villagerrr in 2022, taking his home-spun spirit through shifting collaborations and sonic directions through the years. Tear Your Heart Out, the latest full length release by the Columbus band has been occupying fan and critic lists alike since its arrival earlier this year, finding villagerrr in their most matured and solidified form yet. The band’s soft indie-rock tangents and Midwestern brushstrokes of vivid observations and unhurried pacing offer a spacious listening – finding intimacy in the mundane and an undeniable impression of home from afar.
Along with the playlist, Scott gave us a blurb about the songs he chose to include, sharing;
It’s just a song off of a handful of albums that sent me into obsessive music deep dives. I’d just listen to the albums all day and get deeper into the other albums and watch interviews and live performances. Read about them. Just get to see where the art was coming from and why they made it.
“What’s that little snapping sound off and down the hall? It’s someone snapping gems off the cavern wall.”
Windier is a bell that rings early in the morning. The bell stands on its side, somewhere near the coasts of Maine, and several people live inside. They crawl in and out to get to their shows on time. They work in the weather, tying and untying knots with only a slight toil. Windier, of course, is a band. Their latest album Doesn’t the Baby captures songwriter Asa Shadis as he writes of the world and its warm ashes, remembering and trying to remember how to stay present for the things we’re not ready for. “When things get real,” he sings on another track, “doesn’t the baby arrive?”
“Gems” is the final track on Doesn’t the Baby. Asa sings with Zoe Holland, whose drumming on other tracks is at least one of Windier’s crucial heartbeats. A third voice belonging to Kenzie Reilly also appears on occasion, completing a brief and elegant trio. They all mirror each other with a delicate attunement, wondering as clearly as one can about a planet so blurry it obstructs your vision. How long have we lived here? What are we holding onto? Where do we put it down? And who is taking the gems from the cavern? They may not be asking these questions outright, but their search is felt. Though “Gems” doesn’t talk about “the baby,” we do hear Asa, Zoe, and Kenzie reflect on the long-awaited collapse of the thing they held up high. It is a pregnant moment, the one that happens right before things change.
“Until the thing we held up high was collapsing finally / so out into the street, planet blurring / I saw real life in the morning / a whispered little warning.”
Throughout the recording, a cello (played by Annie Dodson) flows beneath the poetry. Sometimes it creeps up to dance with Asa’s rich acoustic guitar, expanding the song’s center with a dusty decadence. The environment of the song seems to stretch out horizontally and vertically, as if they are all huddled together, performing inside of a tall, endless cave. Perhaps thanks to Mike Bullister’s mixing and mastering. But it’s also not hard to imagine them playing this song next to a stalactite or two. Once, they actually sort of did:
In February 2024 Windier played a show at The Space in Portland, ME in February 2024. Part of their performance featured a handmade cave structure, within which a couple members sat and performed. Seen above. Sadurn and Night Hawk also played the show.
“Gems” is minimalist songwriting at its best. Like an enchantment, it doesn’t reveal too much. You may want to sit yourself somewhere dark and find yourself a flashlight before listening. Maybe you will find one of those missing gems.
You can learn more about the band at windier.net. Or you can find the nearest bell that looks shorn by the sea and peer inside.
It’s difficult to find your footing after times of grieving – though condensing time like an accordion, capturing both the past and present into a full journey of cathartic healing feels so effortless at the hands of Noa Jamir. Last week, the New Orleans/Lafayette-based singer-songwriter shared a beautiful exploration of self worth on her debut full length album Cicada. Taking a two year hiatus, Jamir dropped out of her last semester of college as she went through a “dormant hell” of loneliness and depression. To reemerge from those dark moments as a beautiful new spirit, Cicada lets breezy tunes take the reigns as Jamir documents her personal experience of healing and the importance of holding onto every step.
Cicada plays to the soft-rock headbangers and pop song lamenters that live for the intimacy of heavy summer air. The album opener “These Walls” plays to the momentum of a slow burning anthem – swelling in a compressed state of confusion and frustration as Jamir tries to break down her self-constructed walls of what it is to love and to be loved. The country-adjacent “Want to Love” scratches that yallternative itch that is spreading around these days, with its atmospheric lap steel (Alan Howard) annunciating the tenderness of the track and the longing in Jamir’s lush vocal performance. The stand out, “Indebted” is a steady indie-rock burner, culminating Jamir’s rage and fortitude into a patient demeanor of confidence, singing, “He proved to me that I can survive anyone and anything” – joyous and defiant all in one.
Some of the most impactful moments on Cicada are also the most sonically exposed – sitting still as the words drip like warm honey over the sparse soundscapes. “Oh I know it’s comin / The rain, the sun, the flood of all the memories,” Jamir sings with a quiet whisper on “Nights”, as the chorus blooms with layered harmonies over a folky guitar. The song lingers with an intense beauty, giving space to those unwanted thoughts – not allowing Jamir to deny their existence. With the inclusion of two voice memos from close friends, we are given a rare glimpse into Jamir’s support system during those rough moments – personal, endearing and beautiful, a culmination of the project at hand. “Mariah’s Interlude” is a brief spoken piece, tending to the patience of self care. “Aidan’s Interlude” speaks, “it can be tempting to numb ourselves […] it’s just helpful for me to remind myself that when I’m feeling a lot, that is my superpower and that makes it possible for me to truly live” – and to Aidan’s credit, Cicada feels to embody that statement.
Cicada moves at its own accord, and that’s okay. As a compositional album alone, the dynamic shifts, deliberate pacing and endearing hooks create a charming and enticing listen that runs no longer than 25 minutes. But what makes Jamir’s writing so special are the dualities that often are overlooked in times of struggle are now given a their own voice. “I realized what this was for me / A way out of my own company,” she sings on the aforementioned “Want to Love.” What feels like a harsh drive down memory lane isn’t taken as regret or mourning, but rather the importance of recognition and growth that got Jamir to where she is now.
When Baltimore/Philadelphia-based duo @ (pronounced “At”) released their debut album “Mind Palace Music” in 2023, they launched with a unique “hyperfolk” sound. Taking inspiration from modern folk-pop and 70s outsider folk songwriters, @ created a sound all their own — melding intricate studio production with lush vocal harmonies, acoustic instruments, and a penchant for the unexpected.
Earlier this year, @ released their sophomore effort — a five-song EP titled Are You There God? It’s Me, @. It’s a dramatic shift in their overall sound that serves as their breakout into electronic music production.
@ is the music project of Philadelphia, PA musician Victoria Rose and producer/ musician Stone Filipczak of Baltimore, MD. They formed during lockdown, sharing musical ideas and sketches back and forth via email and iMessage. This is their second release on D.C./ NY-based indie label Carpark Records.
Are You There God? It’s Me, @ is a record with a science-fiction aesthetic written into the code of @’s songs, taking listeners through a mirror darkly to an alternate reality that reflects our own.
The EP opens with “Processional,” a song that’s part psychedelic trance and part synth-pop jig. With its ethereal vocals and harp-like synth lines, it ascends to an apex that feels like it’s taking listeners up and out of the atmosphere.
The lyrics are cryptic and impressionistic — like subconscious thoughts taking shape in the form of dream dialog. “Inside the old mind, it’s hard to be kind/ I’m swimming/ I’m singing/ Go to, where you want to/ But don’t stray too far (to the ends of the Earth.”
On “Webcrawler,” @ makes full use of its intricate production process — blending electric guitar with a heavy industrial-sounding bass synth, shimmering keys, layered vocals, and even a guitar solo that sounds like it’s from a Van Halen record.
With all its many parts moving together like clockwork, it digs into a melodic groove that serves to underpin a cyberpunk theme that @ weaves into its song’s poignant lyrics about Internet culture and isolation.
“Database my remains/ Open up for a phase/ I’ve been dying to see you/ When you go you should stay/ I’ll be on your domain one day/ I’ve been dying to see you/ When you go you should stay/ But you’re going away.”
There’s existential musings at play on this EP. That’s self-evident with its title — a tongue in cheek reference to Judy Blume’s 1970 coming-of-age story “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret?” @ uses that pop culture touchstone as a launchpad for songs that search for purpose and meaning beyond the daily humdrum.
No song better encapsulates that idea than the title track. It starts off with @ slowly building a choir made from their two voices repeating the mantra: “I can’t feel you anymore/ As long as you hide away, I can’t see you in my dreams anymore.” The vocal harmonies are angelic and tender, evoking The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds era.
But then the song is disrupted by electronic glitches, which cuts the mics on this studio choir. The track shifts into a sunshine twee pop section reminiscent of bands like Belle & Sebastian or The Vaselines.
“Odor in the Court” leans into a spellbinding electro-pop groove, while natural human voices meld with robotic auto-tuned vocals. The lyrics reinforce themes of digital age isolation, adding to that foundation by asking existential questions about the nature of reality.
From there, “Soul Hole” closes out the EP with a hyperpop song that cements its cyberpunk narrative. @ merges with the ghost in the machine for a bop that shifts back and forth between EDM rhythms and folk-pop melodies; a parallel to @’s own musical evolution.
Taking elements of hyper-pop and pairing it with experimental indie rock has resulted in a record that’s wildly inventive. With avant-pop hooks, left of field engineering, and earworm melodies, Are You There God? It’s Me, @ is made for repeated listens.
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 songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and producer Dan Parr of The Last Whole Earth Catalog.
With an eclectic and daringly dense history, The Last Whole Earth Catalog is one of those cherished acts here at the ugly hug. In rare moments where two albums are experienced in the same way, Parr’s blend of genres, techniques, inspirations and what-nots are emblematic of his rich creative process and stamina. Along with a new full length album set to be released in the coming months, Parr has embarked on a new journey of recording performances of all of his songs in chronological order. You can follow this project on his YouTube channel (All Songs Ever).
When asked to curate a playlist for the ugly hug, Parr shared this statement regarding his time putting it together;
Every so often a song of times gone by finds its way into my life. This is a collection of some of them, found by recommendation (both human and algorithm), chasing samples from 2000s chill-out songs or overheard in a Mexican restaurant.
I like that I don’t have all the context for these songs. I might know the history, but I wasn’t there, living amongst the culture and understanding it properly. With some, I don’t know whether these would be ‘pop’ songs or songs more off the beaten track. I don’t know what ripples these made in the world, if any. I have to take the songs at face value, and enjoy the melodies, harmony, simplicity, humor or emotion as they stand alone.
I am a little jealous of the earnestness that Glen Campbell has when singing “and I want you for all time”, the incredible lyrical motif in Joyce Heath’s “I Wouldn’t Dream Of It” and the hope I feel when I hear a whole chorus join in with “We Shall Overcome”. It’s this kind of thing that I hope may occasionally crop up in my music from time to time.
“Eggshell” is not a slow death in a warm bed. It is an abrupt emergency that begets a siren’s light and the gilded fragility of living after loss. On A Million Easy Payments, Little Kid gives us space and time to consider ourselves and how to sculpt with the energy around us. “Eggshell” is track five, nestled between images of a crumbling statue and an unlit cigarette.
Two acoustic guitars drink from a bright and steady country spring as Kenny Boothby’s vocals tremble with confidence. He duets with himself, often doubling the melody in a lower octave. Boothby’s vibrato, quivering and tearless, already knows the story: we are fragile, but breath comes if you let it.
In “Eggshell,” opaque reflections reveal a life-ending seizure and a widow’s later decision to remarry, change scenery, and bear the imprint of the past. Boothby sings from the perspective of the deceased, who witnesses it all with a low voice and a graceful sympathy:
Buried me, remarried you were barely getting by Just you two ‘n’ a justice of the peace Split out to the city you were really getting tired Of finding what reminded you of me
A darkened carpet and a smiling silence, still referring to a loved one as “babe” though the relationship resembles something else now. A sentimental reference to a cherry cola. If it isn’t yearning when two harmonizing voices come together for a holy swell, it’s love. Some memories are just there to hold us in our fractured states. Not with forgiveness. Just recognition.
Raavi, the Brooklyn-based project fronted by Raavi Sita, have always held an ear to earnest performance – the disciplined, yet expansive sonic approach tailored to fit neatly under Sita’s equally engaging lyricism has turned some heads the past few years to say the least. Today, Raavi has shared with us a new single, “Henry”, taking a more mellow path of contemplation than before, yet at no expense to the weight it holds. Along with the single, Raavi has announced their forthcoming EP, The Upside, set to be released September 13 via Mtn. Laurel Recording Co.
Under two minutes, “Henry” is a brief formulation of personal meditation and elegant musicianship that animates the revelations of sexuality and identity that Sita has encountered over the years. But leaning back into the stepping pattern of dancing guitars and flowing with the grace of traditional folk senses, “Henry” is ultimately a patient song – the ethos of collapsing time into a minute of cathartic bliss is something that feels ambitious in practice, yet so effortless at the hands of Sita’s storytelling.
In an instant, the song begins with a mutual understanding; “Don’t worry Henry / Your secret’s safe with me,” playing to a safety blanket, one with its edges frayed and its thinning, itchy material lacking substance. But as her bright and contemplative voice command’s the open space, singing to Henry in conversation, there forms a separation between the warmth of the tune and the suffocating feelings from the story within. It’s not long before the dialogue shifts, “Oh Henry you’re no friend of mine”, only heightened by the underlying string arrangements (Nebulous Quartet) that characterize the melody as Sita’s presence matures into where she is now.
Speaking on the song, Sita shared in a statement, “it’s about realizing I wasn’t being seen by the boys and men in my life as just myself, but as a girl first. I grew up androgynous, able to act like a chameleon to fit in with my male and female friend groups with relative seamlessness in which my tomboy gender expression, while definitely acknowledged by my peers, also gave me a freedom to exist in both gendered worlds to some degree. At some point this reality came crashing down on me.” She adds, “I experienced what I think a lot of gender nonconforming kids go through in that I went from being viewed as Raavi, to Raavi the girl and all the implications that being a girl comes with.”
Watch the official visualizer for “Henry” made by Callan Thomas.
Raavi will embark on a week-long run of tour dates with labelmates Sister. on 9/4, including a festival performance at Otis Mountain Get Down. The Upside is due to be released on 9/13 off of Mtn. Laurel Recording Co. with a limited-edition run of 7″ vinyl available for preorder now.
Written by Shea Roney | Feature Photo by Veronica Bettio
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 Chicago-based songwriter (Advance Base, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone) and founder of Orindal Records, Owen Ashworth.
Over the years, Ashworth has helped define various niche communities that have found the vivid intimacies of his work to be crucially important to phases of their lives. The incongruent desires from lonely post grads throwing on an old Casiotone record, a group of parents suffering from where-has-the-time-gone-ism to the foresight of Advance Base, or the deep and cultured love for the quiet weirdos curated by Orindal that have shaped indie scenes all over the country – Ashworth has always held an edge to those shared experiences that bring these groups together.
When asked to put together a collection of songs for the ugly hug, Ashworth shares;
I don’t make many playlists. I am mostly an albums person. I am also a Tidal person, which means that I don’t have many people I can conveniently share playlists with anyway. A little while ago, when I was on a tour with my buddy Jake, Jake suggested that we make a playlist of our favorite songs for venues to play as the house music at our shows. Most of the songs on this playlist I originally selected for that Jake & Owen tour playlist. I remember how good it felt to hear this music that I love come on in a room full of people. It made the shows feel like parties that Jake & I were throwing night after night. It was a joy to share these songs then & it’s a joy to share them with you now.
You can listen to Owen Ashworth’s playlist on Tidal
Featured Photo by Jeff Marini | Written by Shea Roney
Every Friday, a staff member at the ugly hug curates a list of their five favorite new(ish) releases to share with us all. This week, singer-songwriter and team writer Claire Ozmun has put together a track list of chewy lyrical poise, fresh Sunday-morning anthems and brash noisy stunners for us to simmer in.
“Pay for it” by Kablamo
Before I learned this New Paltz-born band did indeed cut their teeth in college house shows, I sensed, in the best way, a DIY/sweaty-basement-show ethos when seeing them live. The trust Julia, Santi, Aidan, and Charlie have on stage seems instinctive. I listened to their recorded music on the walk home immediately after their set. There’s a specific sense of relief that washes over you when the recorded music of an artist you love live still resonates when you’re listening on your shitty $15 earbuds. Kablamo’s latest EP, GO, does not disappoint, in your earbuds or live. During their EP release show (in a Crown Heights basement in 90 degree weather, naturally), “Pay For It” got the folks moving. One of those special, tender mosh pits that bands with good people and good sound tend to forge. If you’re ever listening to MBV and want a little Bite, might I recommend this track. Julia is the lungs and also the heartbeat on Pay For It, and yes, she does both live which is a physical feat I can’t comprehend. Julia sings like a drummer and drums like a singer – there is a precision in her vocal lines and melodic feel to her drumming that I think is just so badass.
“(bitch) buy me some fries” by skwerm
There’s famously nothing better than a punk band from Ohio (unbiased opinion), and skwerm is not only carrying that torch, but reinventing/reigniting/throwing the damn torch away! Fuck the torch! This song has perfected the “Keep Claire Engaged” recipe. The introductory bassline has me hooked and on the edge of my seat. After a few measures, the rest of the band comes in and makes me want to do Mean Face while I walk. Zakiya and Osi’s vocals are powerful and emotive. Perfectly empowering/snarky/fun lyrics. This song also has some of the coolest tempo changes that I’ve heard in recent memory. This is skwerm’s debut single, and rumor has it they played their debut show less than a year ago. I’m not one for premonitions, but I’m sure hoping and suspecting we’re going to see a lot more from Osi, Nia and Zakiya and I’ll be watching from the front row!
“How Sensitive” by Caroline Davis, Wendy Eisenberg
Caroline and Wendy’s record, Accept When, is a 2-month-old newborn, and damn is it beautiful. I love how this whole album was recorded, and How Sensitive struck me from the first listen through. It doesn’t take but a second to know you’re listening to two absolute masters of their craft. The ways in which the guitar and saxophone interact, play with, and return to each other on How Sensitive are so beautiful it makes you stop what you’re doing to listen. The oscillations between minor and major chords/sustained and punctuated notes/playful and nostalgic melodies. This song would be well-paired with a slow-and-hot Sunday morning shower, in this listener’s opinion. The pair are on tour in support of the record for a few more days, so if you’re in the Midwest you should probably just drop everything and go to one of the remaining shows.
“Little Splinters” by Ok Cowgirl
Little Splinters is the first single from Brooklyn-based Ok Cowgirl’s upcoming debut album!! Lucky us!! Leah Lavigne’s voice is restrained, delicate, tough and big all at the same time. I love how this song grows. It introduces itself with succinct-but-evocative nuggets – it lets you in slowly and lets you establish the groundwork for yourself. It’s not obvious but it’s not hiding. By the end it has become an old friend, offering wisdom and reflection in a way that’s inquisitive and honest. It’s rock and roll with lyrics to sink your teeth into. “I have wasted years trying to escape fear / I have wasted years to let it go / But this year I wanna move in it like a muddy swamp” – woof. I can’t wait to hear this record!!!
“Holy Cow” by Harry J.
Man, from the first beat I just don’t want this song to end. This is one of those songs that puts you on an *insert your flying vehicle of choice* and leads you through at least 4 different dimensions. Somehow Harry makes it seem easy – there’s a distinct timbre to his voice that makes you feel like you’re on board with an experienced pilot. There’s just no way to describe the lyrical content of this song without the word “chewy” – and if you don’t know what I mean, listen and you will. The words just sound right together. Evocative and approachable, kind of like abstract art – you’ll know the words, but you probably wouldn’t have thought to put them together. With an impressive team of flight attendants (Stephen Rodes Chen, Julia Easterlin, Thomas Stephens, Mike Farrell, Tiger Darro, and Spencer Mackey on various instruments), rest assured you’ll land safely. But not before learning that music like this exists. I hear there’s more music to come and I’m getting in the TSA line now.
Written by Claire Ozmun
Humble brag about our team member alert! Claire Ozmun’s striking new EP, Dying in the Wool is set to be released on July 19! You can watch the music video for her latest single “I-90” which premiered last month here on the hug! You can preorder Dying in the Wool now!
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 songwriter, producer and multi-instrumentalist, Eliza Niemi.
With intimate and collective soundscapes, Niemi’s anti-folk world is one built with articulated blunders, soggy admiration and precious observational harmony – taking the time to colorfully animate the tricky moments of glee, love, anxiety and loss in her life. Coming up to the two year anniversary of her remarkable debut full-length, Staying Mellow Blows, we asked Niemi to curate a playlist for the ugly hug, in which she shares;
“I made a playlist for my new friend recently of a bunch of my favourite songs that I thought he’d like. I soon realized that most of them boasted prominent shaker! I guess I love shaker. So I decided to make a shaker-themed playlist. Auxiliary percussion really adds so much to a groove, and I find shaker in particular to be very magnetic. A bunch of my own music has shaker too so I shamelessly included one of my songs on here. My friend Eli played the shaker on it — he’s awesome.”
Featured Photo by Ben Mike | Written by Shea Roney
the ugly hug 