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
Not that long ago, New York was once a vibrant home for independent artists, musicians and creatives alike – all trying to find their place within a community of sustainability and support. With plenty of independent venues, promotors and journalists doing the hands-on work, the means to share your art were vast and obtainable. But over the years, the accesability to express yourself became more difficult, as corporations like Live Nation and Spotify cornered the market, show spaces and venues shut down and journalism became blocked behind paywalls, eventually leading to a large cultural and financial gap separating who is able to participate.
Temporary State University is a new non-profit organization that is dedicated to training the next generation of New Yorkers to throw their own cultural events. With an emphasis on educating and organizing through three workshops this fall, TSU will teach you how to plan, organize and execute a show in a fun, fair and safe way for all.
As they gear up for these workshops, TSU will be hosting the Temporary Day Party, their big fundraising drive this Saturday, June 29 in Ridgewood, NY. As an all day event, the Temporary Day Party will consist of a 12 hour, 15 act show of some of New York’s best musicians, a handful of local vendors, as well as a preview to the full workshops.
Jordan Michael is the founder and Director of TSU. Growing up in the show world, as well as once running the NY Showpaper, Jordan has witnessed a change of the recourses, accountability and access to safe spaces in New York over the years. With the help of Hannah Pruzinksky (GUNK, h. pruz, Sister.) and Ceci Sturman (GUNK, Sister.), TSU is building up their student body of new stakeholders and leaders to rebuild that once vibrant community.
We recently had a chat with Jordan to discuss the organization, talking about the needed public shift towards redefining a venue, sharing knowledge through workshops and the overall goal for Temporary State University in the NY community and beyond.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity
Ugly Hug: Before we talk about this project, what is your background in the New York community and where did you get the idea to start TSU?
Jordan Michael: I grew up working doors and bar, booking shows, and sometimes doing sound at venues. I also had a bunch of sound equipment that I acquired and started renting out to people. I grew up in a very vibrant community of DIY spaces, independent promoters and bands that were homeless and just toured nationally. At the time, America had such a vibrant community of DIY venues and independent media that you could kind of just dedicate yourself to touring and playing shows in this network, creating a ladder that you could climb to build a career for yourself. Now that ladder, through a million different cuts, has fallen apart. And then the pandemic happened and it just felt like the long aging process brought out the natural death of the community I grew up in. When I started to see that there are these 23 year old kids who just moved to New York that have no connection to the community and who need the help – like the kids who want to do a DIY show under a bridge in industrial Queens – I want them to have a PA system to make it happen.
UH: You have been using a very unique social campaign that documents empty spaces with the words, “there can be a show here”. What is TSU’s approach to redefining these public places that wouldn’t typically be considered a venue?
JM: Public spaces are for the public and we are the public. A show is just a gathering of people in the same space, paying attention to the same thing. You can do that anywhere. When I saw the DIY community of our teens kind of die off, a lot of it was geared towards the closure of spaces and venues. I loved so many of those spaces, and it’s not that I don’t mourn their disappearance, but it highlights the fact that a lot of the problem is individual people with a lot of consolidated power. If bands email me because they don’t have a place to play, that’s a bad sign. You shouldn’t rely on somebody else to express yourself and you shouldn’t rely on small businesses to express yourself. I’m not against doing shows at venues, most shows happen in venues, but I intentionally want to get people out of the mentality that if something doesn’t happen at 8 P.M. at a bar then it can’t happen at all.
UH: The Temporary Day Party is going to be held at a place called Party Connection in Ridgewood, NY. What kind of space is that?
JM: In cities like New York where apartments are so small, there are a lot of places where you can rent out one of these halls as like a community living room. When planning this event I didn’t want to do it in a venue, I wanted to do it in a place that theoretically you could do a show in and show people how you take a place that isn’t a venue and turn it into one for the night.
UH: A 12 hour show is pretty epic, and I can only imagine the strategy and the energy that went into planning it. How did you approach such a task?
JM: I’m currently writing a whole zine about how you herd all the cats involved in a three person bill – I can’t even get into the logistics of doing it with a twelve hour show. You come up with a bunch of people you ask to play, you figure out when they can do it, you compile a list of all the different slots people can play, and then you just puzzle it together. You also just have to figure out what instruments people are going to play and the equipment you need. Then you announce it and hope people show up.
UH:You also plan to give a small preview of the workshops that TSU will be hosting this upcoming fall at the day party. What kinds of topics will the full workshops go over as you get people started and trained to host their own events?
JM: The workshops at the event will just give people a sense of what we are teaching and how we’re going to be teaching them. We will have a guest speaker that I will ask some questions and then the audience will have the chance to ask questions as well. But the full workshops are broken up into three sections. The first section is curating the show – when you have an idea for a show and you have all the bands, a venue and a date picked out. The second workshop is pre-production and promotion, which is getting ready for the show, making sure you have everything you need and you’re doing all of the things you need to do leading up. Then the final workshop is the day of the show, making sure nothing bad happens and dealing with something bad happening so it doesn’t become something horrible happening. We will also soon be releasing guidebooks on each subject that will be available on our website for free. It’s basically just a more condensed written version of what we’re going over at these workshops. They are meant to be picked up and read in one sitting to feel like you get a sense of what it is we are sharing.
UH: As you run these workshops in New York, what do you hope to see expand to other communities as you share these tutorials to the wide public?
JM: I have no ambition to expand whatsoever. I don’t even want to keep doing this project in a few years. The dream is total obsolescence. If this is just something that is common knowledge and people just know how to do it, then it doesn’t necessarily need to be taught to them. And if tons of different people are putting together different collectives to share resources to do shows, then this doesn’t need to exist and I can quit. That’s the dream.
You can find various ways in which to help TSU reach their goal here, including a monthly contribution, donating sound equipment or storage spaces and even professional insurance services. You can now pre-register for the official TSU workshops. Visit their website for more information.
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, our writer, poet and member of newly formed punk group Big Garden, Autumn, shares with us “five Hot Hot Steamin’ Blazin’ Brand-Spankin-New Tracks to Sizzle onto your table and into your heart (or liver)”
“Rock & Roller Girl” by Liquid Images
Liquid Images is the tour de force of Cleveland rock n roll veterans Marty Brass (Ma Holos, Red Devil Ryders, Marty Brass & the Lavender Jets) and Richard Hamilton (musician, author, founder of Quality Time Records in 2014). “Rock & Roller Girl” comes from the duo’s debut album – which, in true punk style, packs seven songs into less than 18 minutes. This snack-sized smorgasbord was recorded in Downey, California over the course of 2021 to 2023, finally unleashed unto the eager masses earlier this year in January. It sounds like a record leisurely recorded by two friends who know what they’re doing, and it rocks.
Liquid Images’ self-titled album is a jammy, groovy departure from Brass and Hamilton’s earlier, (mostly) retired project, Pig Flayer (which is heavy and nasty and absolutely rules, if you can get your hands on one of the few remaining ‘45s). All seven tracks are jammy revelations you can sink your teeth into and shake your ass to, both, but “Rock & Roller Girl” stands out as the representative track of the whole lot, energetically.
Hamilton’s dreamy yet heavy-hitting vocal style oozes with honed punk power that’s been marble-chiseled by time and experience into a pied piper rally cry that’ll make a believer outta you yet, you silly stuck-in-your-ways sensible shoegaze softies. Get freaky and give this one a spin (and thank me later).
“Spend It All” by The Oystermen
Don’t let the whole alternative-teen-groupie-Thorazine-lapsang-souchong look fool you. This writer gets down to a good ole stompin’ bluegrass hootenenay hit from time to time – but it has to be pretty damn good to pull me away from my regularly scheduled brooding cuppa the aforementioned lapsang souchong (I know who I am). “Spend It All” by Brooklyn’s newest bluegrass super-force is that good.
This red-hot track just dropped a few weeks ago, and lyrically, it’s a masterpiece. Frontman Stanley holds it down and pushes it up with jaunty harmonica and driving acoustic guitar, but more than his lively, boot-stompin’ delivery, it’s his words that walk home with you after the show’s over. The chorus rips in with the proverb, “Get a whole lotta money, spend it all havin’ a good time.” This is the new national anthem, or at least the song of the summer. “Stay out all night listenin’ to the rest of the album, it’s gonna be a blast. Go back home tomorrow mornin’, and then you can crash. Doctor said I should count some sheep, I said ‘Whaddo I look like, Little Bo Peep?’ C’mon listen to the rest of the album.” *harmonica solo* Finally, a track you and your dad’s friends can all get down to.
…and The Oystermen’s trumpet player deserves his own write-up. Every band in New York that’s been looking for a trumpeter is going to writhe and lament when they hear this one.
“MASS APPEAL” by Nat Cherry and Braxtino
This dark, toothy groove dropped just two weeks ago, and I’ve already spun it at least 50 times. Longtime punk rocker Nat Cherry and soulful guitar god Braxton (Smith Taylor, Black Lazarus) joined forces for a soon-to-be cult classic track that, frankly, doesn’t look like any of the tunes either of them have put out before now.
“MASS APPEAL” is for folks who discovered Nico’s “Chelsea Girls” in their teens, graduated to the realm of Siouxsie and the Banshees and Nina Hagen in their twenties, and are now looking for what’s next. Your search is over, lovers. Nat Cherry’s deep, round, lilting drone pulls the trip forward through heavy synth and a brick-laying drum beat. Braxton brings the smooth polished vocals in just the right places, but those places are few. No one is over-singing or over-performing here, and that’s what makes this track so deliriously cool. It hits because it hits, and no one is doing backflips to catch your attention. They don’t have to.
Hopefully, “MASS APPEAL” is the scintillating promise of more to come from this Brooklyn-based duo. My loved ones are becoming strangers as the mouth-foaming jones for a full EP ravages my body (please god more).
“G Bus” by Tired Horses
The single, “G Bus,” dropped in 2023, and Tired Horses edged their loyal following of jazz-horny clean cut acid freaks with a live album recorded at Hidden Fortress in Philly. Now, it’s 2024 and we’re ready to climax. Give us the manna from heaven, Steely Dan.
This freewheelin’ psychedelic fantasia of acid jazz is just what the doctor ordered in two ways: It’s the antidote to the singer-songwriter-mania that’s oversaturated the New York music scene since the pandemic, and listening to it will make you live forever. Whether folks know about it or not, Tired Horses is already a supergroup – but ultra-niche-lovin’ music heads (you know who you are) will want to pounce on this one now if they want to say they knew about the horsies before they were big. Savant guitarist Cameron Criss (Ruby, Buga, the Claire Ozmun Band), saxophonist Mike Talento, bassist Alex Tvaroch, Jack Gruber on keys, and Szecso Szendrody on drums fill a space and keep it filled so effortlessly that you won’t even miss a singer.
Tired Horses did something truly special with “G Bus” by capturing that delicious live sound without it going flat. All those groovy layers are preserved in amber – and for New York groovers who wanna shake some action in-person, the band has a residency at Troost bar in Greenpoint. They play a totally original set on the first Monday of every month and there’s no door fee.
“What Money?” by Crystal Egg
Curtis Godino makes the organ sexy. “Organ” as in the instrument, aka the cooler older sister of the piano. This Nashville band hit the stage for the first time in April 2023, but Crystal Egg is already dripping with style. “What Money?” is the group’s only recorded track on music streaming platforms (and it just dropped in April) but they already landed a spot opening for the Lemon Twigs on their most recent tour a few months ago. Also, the anti-capitalist canticle of “What Money?” effortlessly captures the rage-gut-punch of wanting to be a part of something awesome but getting disenfranchised with a door fee and, gasp, being broke.
Dream-queen Jess McFarland’s avant-garde bohemian vocals melds with futuristic flair from Godino’s one-of-a-kind synth stylings for what can only be described as the intersection of poetry and chaos. There really aren’t any other bands to compare Crystal Egg to, and what a feat. They could quit now and already be a legend. But, the hypersonic life force behind their tunes and off-stage creative tsunami (Godino runs Drippy Eye Projections and a gag toy company called Jester Trading Co., and McFarland is a master seamstress and clothing designer) suggests that there’s much, much more to come from these Nashville newcomers.
On “a boy called ear,” Demi Spriggs (Athens, Greece/ London, UK), takes traditional British folk melodies and pairs them with freak-folk influences and shoegaze improv. The result is a four-song EP that walks between past and present — evoking feelings of melancholy, world-weariness, and brief moments of joy set across its tales of love and loss.
Spriggs, who is also a visual artist, ethnographer, and doctoral candidate, isn’t the first to marry old English folk songs with modern songwriting sensibilities. There’s a long list, ranging from 1960s/70s folk-rock bands Fairport Convention and Pentangle; the 1990s/ 2000s freak folk scenes; as well as contemporary folk artists such as Anaïs Mitchell and Laura Marling.
But what Demi Spriggs does well on a boy called ear is present a unique take to time-honored folk ballads; tying together feminist themes in these story-song narratives.
In doing so, she’s created new tales of her own that align with the role of the bard. She’s the storyteller who weaves a yarn of history, myths, and ritual into verse; transfiguring the past to speak about the here and now.
Demi Spriggs’ high and mellifluous voice is coupled with her intricate nylon-stringed guitar fingerpicking, which produces an intimate and emotionally-present record. These stripped-down arrangements lend themselves to these songs, which are nestled between desire, sadness, and hope.
Released on Jan 12, this is Spriggs’ first project with New Paltz, New York-based record label Team Love Records. The label was founded in 2003 by indie folk artist Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes) and musician and owner Nate Krenkel.
The EP’s opener, “holding fair,” begins with an a cappella quote of Scarborough Fair: “Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.” From there, Spriggs builds a scene of a relationship slowly falling apart.
Musically, there’s a mix of emotions; effervescent and bittersweet that captures the euphoria of the early stages of love and the sting of rejection. “My love/ You can’t chase time/ And you can’t hold the fairest ones down.”
And on “a tale of love and sadness,” Spriggs’ winding fretwork with her pure and honeyed voice contrasts with themes of unrequited love. The song left me feeling as though a part of me had been hollowed out. It summoned a rising tide of old memories — haunting and beautiful.
The highlight of the record is “if you don’t say it, the wheat will,” which sees Spriggs as a sayer steeped in ancient melodies with a portent message. It’s part folk ballad and part Greek epicedium with a foreboding sense of loss.
There’s an eerie calmness to Spriggs’ vocal delivery, which adds tension to the plaintive narrative. “And I see them in the fields/ Shadows of the ones who flew/ Of the men who didn’t know/ That they were dying before they grow.”
A boy called ear closes with the electric guitar-driven shoegaze instrumental “escalator jazz.” This drone-focused piece is a departure from the rest of the EP stylistically, but still emotionally fits with its wistful experimental improv.
Spriggs’ wrote on her Bandcamp page that “escalator jazz” acts as a bridge for a future release titled “Night Folkways” — an experimental folk project with looped textures, vocals, and FX pedals. Although it serves as a connective thread between the releases, “escalator jazz” doesn’t seem like a memorable way to close out the EP. The beating heart of this record lies with Spriggs’ abilities to bring new ideas to traditional folk storytelling. Despite the lack of cohesion at its end, Demi Spriggs’ a boy called ear is a heartfelt collection of songs that takes inspiration from the past, while moving forward with inventiveness and a willingness to experiment with the folk genre.
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week, we have a collection of songs put together by Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter, Nisa.
Crafting a career out of skies-the-limit songs, finding a beautiful blend in the harshness of garage rock, the glittery gaze of power pop and the undeniable release of a good dance track, Nisa released her debut full-length album, Shapeshifting, off of Tender Loving Empire Records earlier this year. The album carried its name sake in both the sonic explorations and narrative feats as Nisa wrote from the freights of a moving identity; one that is no longer fitting – while in line – the next is not yet attainable.
Sharing this week’s Guest List, Nisa says:
“This playlist came together in a secret garden I found near my apartment. I wish I knew it existed before this week, but I’m also enjoying the excitement of a new place to sit. Some of these songs have been swirling around in my mind as New York enters brain-melt levels of heat, while others felt connected to my neighborhood / built environment. Also, the Durutti Column is one of my favorite bands, and listening to them feels like endless sunshine…”
Nisa will soon be playing two shows supporting King Hannah on 7/1 at Johnny Brenda’s in Philly and 7/2 at Elsewhere Space in NYC. Shapeshifting is out now on all platforms.
Carolina Chauffe is the creative guide behind the ever evolving project, hemlock. Growing up in Lafayette, Louisiana, Chauffe has been untethered to one place, letting opportunities decide where they move next as they plant roots from Louisiana to Texas, the Pacific Northwest and Chicago, spooling connections in every direction that their presence and spirit touches.
Earlier this year, hemlock released the six-track mini-album, Amen!, off of Hannah Read’s [Lomelda] label Double Yolk Record House. It’s a touching piece of work, a contusion of the heart, as Chauffe and friends create a simple, yet indescribably intense record of placement, connections and the spirit of being.
I recently caught up with Chauffe as they house-sit for Lindsey Verrill [Little Mazarn] in Austin, Texas. Having done the classic layered questioning before in a past interview with hemlock, I wanted to try something new this time around. Only preparing one question, what followed became a stream of consciousness, retelling the story of not only how Amen! came to be, but how Chauffe’s patient and stunning observational process creates a clear focus of the artistry and bonds that connect their world.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Artwork by Church Goin Mule
Shea Roney: I felt an emotional connection to Amen! before I even got a chance to listen to it because of the stunning album artwork by Church Goin Mule. In the bottom corner, it reads, “I didn’t know where I was headed – only forward! What a miracle to keep going, keep asking and to keep finding out! Amen!” So my question is, what defines a miracle to you in your life?
Carolina Chauffe: That’s such a beautiful question. In a moment of such dissonance globally, it can seem harder and harder to keep a grasp on magic. You’re also catching me in a very tender moment, where I’ve just come to a brief resting place between tours, and today is the first day that I can even begin to process this past week’s miracles. It’s all hitting me now with how relevant and intense this question is.
On a good day, the question is answered with another question; what’s not a miracle?
This album is a miracle to me. It was, in many ways, a gift of a lot of time and energy and collaboration with some of my heroes, especially in a year where I promised myself I would lean more into collaboration. I think that community is a miracle. To lean into the trust that someone or something or somewhere will always catch you, and to be proven time and time again that that is true. In a lot of ways, a miracle is also a testament to human goodness as well. So I believe it’s equal parts faith and magic and reciprocity and trust. But there’s a difference between man made miracles, which need a conscious amount of intention and a lot of courage and hard work. And then there’s the miracles that are just links that appear from the ether and reinforce that you’re on the right path. I think that for me, making music and just continuing on living requires both of those miracles to meet each other and get really well acquainted, almost blurring the lines between where one ends and the other begins.
Amen! came from that kind of perfect storm. Taking the general upheaval of my life and all of the silver linings that followed from getting out of a partnership and leaving Chicago where I lived for three years. It was so hard, but it was true. I think that can often be the form a miracle takes as well. It was the choice I needed to make.
At the time I was leaving Chicago, moving via tour with Merce Lemon down south and heading back over to Austin, Lindsey caught me in this nest that I return to over and over again, letting me stay in this shed that her and her dad built together in the backyard.
Tommy Read offered to record the album in Silsbee, Texas. We had never met before, but he was going off of the good word of Lindsey and Hannah. All I knew was that we had four days on the calendar blocked out, and I didn’t know what it was gonna be, but I knew what shape I wanted it to take – I had trust in that. I played through the songs the eve before recording, and Tommy was like, ‘those are the ones that we’re gonna do’, and the track list made itself. That was miraculous in its own way, trusting the album to make itself with the help of a lot of really tender hearts.
Amen! also bridged my transformation geographically, as a couple of the songs are from Chicago right before I left, and the other couple are from living in Lindsey’s shed. A couple of the others came from a tour that I was on last summer with one of my best friends, Clara [Lady Queen Paradise], who is one of the deepest and most intense inspirations in my life.
Photo by Oscar Moreno
That connection is miraculous as well. In 2018, Clara was on a double solo tour with Ode (playing under the project ‘bella’) as they came through Louisiana. I was coming back from a road trip and we decided to stop at a house show happening at this spot called Burger Mansion in Baton Rouge. I didn’t know who was on the bill, so we showed up and it happened to be Clara and Ode. I’ve never seen anyone do a double solo tour before. It was not something that I knew could happen. They came all the way down from Providence, Rhode Island to Louisiana in their car with one shared guitar and it blew my mind. My first tour ever ended up being a double solo tour the next year. A year from that date I had taken that dream and taken that vision, and just ran with it, but they were the one who materialized it. I had never observed it before and it obviously changed my life, because I’m still doing it. Flash forward five years later, Clara and I ended up going on tour, and almost to the date, we were doing our own double solo tour. The songs “Eleanor” and “Prayer” were written on a day off between shows. I was just sitting and riffing on my friend’s porch in Portland.
Capturing Amen! felt like a miraculous return to the South for me. It felt important to be recording in Silsbee, which is actually the midpoint between Austin and Lafayette. There’s the connection between everywhere I’ve lived in my life within these songs. There are songs influenced from the Pacific Northwest, from Chicago, from the deep South – it includes and melds so many different places and times – past selves, present selves and future selves.
Lindsey, Kyle and Carolina | Photo by Hannah Read
The only person that I knew in a true way before recording was Lindsey, but we all got to know each other through the making of this very precious and sacred feeling together. We mutually believed in each other so deeply, and that is absolutely priceless. I’d met Kyle Duggar, who plays drums on Amen!, only in passing a few times, but he came to make a record with me in full blind trust. No one knew the songs. I hardly knew the songs. We just played through them a few times each and captured them as they were, and it was exactly what it was supposed to be. The energy of the room was so special and playful and intentional. I felt really in touch with the miracle of trust from every angle of that whole recording session, because so many of us were just meeting for the first time, and we made something so intensely beautiful and straight to the point. Whatever the point is.
While recording, we would look out the window to this field of mules that was outside the studio. I’ve always been such a fan of Church Goin Mule, but at this point, it felt like a very obvious connection and sign that I need to reach out to her. When I asked Mule about collaborating for that beautiful painting that is the cover, I was going to initially commission a new original work, but that ended up falling through because we both ran short on time and energy, – but it really didn’t even matter to me because I knew what piece I wanted. Once the album was recorded, it was just obviously the cover – I finally had consciously put them in the same space. The sentence ends in the bottom right corner with the word “Amen”, and the record ends with the word “Amen” – they just seemed to be married to each other. It’s like the miracle of kinship.
I met Mule years ago in my hometown of Lafayette while she was doing a residency at a gallery. I remember being so stunned by her work. I was probably still in high school, so that’s just another through line to the origin point of inspiration, stretching onward almost half a decade to the point of finally being able to collaborate. I actually just got to see Mule for the first time in so many years this past week. She showed up with a bundle of sketches from the time that we were gonna collaborate on an original commission for the album cover. It was this manila envelope full of sketched mules and phrases that I could tell she jotted down as she was listening through my songs for the first time. I cried.
That was the case for recording with Hannah and Lindsey and having collaboration with Mule for the visual art. All these ties that I had open for so long were now tying themselves into a nice little bow. Lots of full circle moments; miracle moments.
Photo by Jake Dapper
Clara texted me recently and said, “home is something you carry with you.” I think that’s a miracle too. I think it’s true and it takes a lot of people to carry one person’s home. When you’re like me and sleeping in a different bed most nights, it doesn’t feel like a sole weight to bear. It’s shared among many pairs of shoulders. That’s utterly miraculous.
I always wanted a pair of red converse high tops when I was a kid, and I never was able to get a pair. I just played a show in New Orleans at this record store’s last show before they closed (long live White Roach Records!) and they were selling these red chucks there. And I was like, ‘okay, you know, the universe has spoken’ [lifting their foot to show off the new chucks].
The connections that people have had to this record, whether it’s feeling pulled towards the visual art or feeling pulled towards the music, it just never gets any less awe inspiring to me the ways that people can receive the work that I am sharing. I’d be sharing it whether or not anyone listens. And the fact that it does resonate, not only with friends, but on the far ends of that spectrum, total strangers and also my heroes, is such a source of faith and hope for me. It makes me feel like I am where I am meant to be.
I was just in Fayetteville for a weekend playing Old Friends Fest. That whole weekend, we had maybe five drops of rain. I was out of service for three days, and when I re-entered civilization, I had all these texts like, ‘are you okay?’ Apparently there were tornadoes all around the festival, and we were just out on our own little plane ten miles off the gravel road. There’s some miraculous force field that can protect you from the woes of man and the woes of the earth sometimes. But I mean, when the woes do hit you, it just takes the miracle of community to pull you back out.
Carolina and Kyle | Photo By Hannah Read
I’m just thinking about when you say the word miracle, to me the vision that I see in my mind immediately jumps to a sun glint on water. It’s a meeting of elements that creates a perfect image or feeling. All these places where the elements combine to bring observance to what was already there in a different shape, that emphasizes the magic and the wonder and the awe of it all. At the heart of a miracle is collaboration between something, whether that be forces, people, elements, or a combination – miracles take active observation; they require observance. There’s so much to observe right now around us, some of it so heartbreaking and impossible to process consciously. But then there’s also the opposite of that; the weekend at the festival with tornadoes all around us where all we could see was beautiful lightning, or the backyard shed that still has your quilt in it after you return months later. I don’t know. If I didn’t believe in a miracle I wouldn’t be here, right?
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, our writer Nikki (Monsters in Hiding), put together a list of apocalyptical hugs, shoegaze stunners and heartfelt folk tunes to take into the weekend.
“everything to die for” by mui zyu
From a Featured interview, to a Guest List playlist, to my Hi-5 this week, Mui Zyu is a favorite on The Ugly Hug, and for good reason. At first listen, the dissonant melody notes (sharped 4th for music theory nerds) in the chorus are unsettlingly interesting, and then they become addictive. After singing “we’ve got everything to die for”, mui zyu goes on with “thank god if you want to” which seems to capture the essence of this song and its place within her new album as what might be the most melancholy sounding but hopeful track. To me, it is a reminder that through our existential earthling nihilism, disappointment, rejection, we still have so much to live for, especially the people who keep us here. Thank you Shea for showing me this song.
“falling down” by Current Joys
Many of us know Current Joys (Nick Rattigan) from his harmonic tremolo and super reverb sounds in the popular tracks “Blondie” and “Kids” from his older albums. But if you haven’t listened to his new music, you might be in for a treat if you like the old sound, PLUS a heavy dose of emo screams over digital modulations and breakbeats. It’s like Current Joys experimented, found a new sound, and couldn’t get enough of making songs with it. I’ve included the song I think demonstrates this, and my favorite off his new album LOVE+POP Pt 2 – “falling down”. The melodic singing ends at “These capitalistic pigs have destroyed the planet”, and then half of the song rides out with his screams “it’s all my fault”. Nick Rattigan doesn’t hold back and I’m so here for it. Emotional summer banger for sure.
“jsuk” by Saturnalias
I’m very excited to expose you to Saturnalias if you don’t know them – a band of wonderful humans and musicians based in my NC hometown. It was hard to pick a track of their new album “Bugfest”, but the ebbs in intensity and sampled sounds in “jsuk” are just too cool. I notice something different from the various layers and switch ups every time I listen. Singing drummer, Isa belts “Oh I need this” at the end of the bridge, feeling like an attempt to hold onto something comforting through chaos. If you like post-punk and shoegaze, I’m pleased to introduce you to the music of Saturnalias.
“Guardian” by Memorial (ft. Lomelda)
The songwriting in this one bleeds sincerity. From my interpretation, it paints the very real human experience of wanting to help others; but when we think we are responsible (a “guardian”) for their emotions, we neglect our own needs and can be left with resentment that only we ourselves can account for. Lomelda comes in on the second verse, sharing her classic slow vocal runs, which carry over so well when their two joined voices build and weave in and out over brushed drums. It’s a great shower song.
“Teeth” by Sour Worm
Sour Worm deviates from the digital, instrumental heavy songs released last year with this banger. Using what sounds like acoustic instruments this time, including a bold walking, clonking bass, this track is also lyric focused. It’s weird in all the best ways. Some elements are reminiscent of Modest Mouse and Alex G, like the rhythmic swing, violin solo, and descriptive word choices. It lyrically ends with an interesting final battling dichotomy to dissect – “It’s like pulling teeth trying to keep them [teeth] in my mouth.”
“There’s such a specific feeling you get from living in an attic,” Hobson laughs. “I feel like a little doll shuffling around up here.”
There has always been a layer of separation in Jane Hobson’s writing, a practice in creating an honest and reflective version of herself, so detailed that she can physically hold it in her hands. Last month, the Chicago-based singer-songwriter shared her newest album, Attic Days – a collection of songs that document her transition into adulthood, and the many paths she took to get there.
Originally from Madison, WI, Hobson became a staple in the scene with her powerful and enduring live performances. Attic Days found her returning to her hometown to record with her band (composed of other beloved Madison musicians) in the home studio of guitarist and songwriter, Bronson Taalbi (Please!).
Currently living in an attic, these new songs aren’t restricted within the tight, slanted and poorly insulated quarters of attic living, as Hobson’s storytelling and rock n roll catharsis mark a big breakthrough for the young artist. We recently caught up with Hobson to discuss the new record, as she reflects on writing with distance, the joy of playing live and reconnecting with her younger self through music.
Photo Courtesy of Jane Hobson
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Shea Roney: Attic Days marked a return to Madison for you. Can you tell me a bit of how the project came to be and the people you worked with?
Jane Hobson: I would say Attic Days is the culmination of a few years of songwriting for me. It started at the end of my college experience and then I wrote the other half once I moved to Chicago. The actual record was recorded in Madison with my band. Bronson [Taalbi], who is one of my guitarist, was also my producer and my engineer and he really brought it to life for me. It was really awesome working with him, and also really convenient to be back in Madison and stay with my family. I’m working in Chicago now, but I would still bounce back to Madison quite a lot to play a show or two over the weekend and then wake up early the next morning and go record in Bronson’s studio.
SR: Attic Days is a brutally honest project, as you grapple with more mature and heavier topics revolving around big transitions. When you began to write these songs, where were you at in life and how did the collective themes come to be?
JH: I feel like it’s an eclectic smattering and does really feel like an album that’s reflecting on a ton of different transitions that were happening in my life. I went to Oberlin College in Ohio and songs like “Time to Kill” and “Where the Fuck Am I?” are about feeling stuck in a very rural place. It’s such a small town and I felt lonely and isolated and really wanted to get out. But after graduating college, moving home and just trying to be an adult and reflect on the relationships I’d had in college, I think that’s where a lot of the big themes came from. Honestly, a lot of the stuff that I wrote, I’m not gonna say it’s random, but it pulls from all different parts of my life.
SR: A lot of these songs grapple with distance, whether that be your proximity to home, drifting relationships or even the gap between you and your younger self. Did writing these songs help bring these large concepts more into view for you?
JH: I think a part of why I write songs is to understand my feelings and my internal-self better. A lot of the time when I sit down with my guitar, it’s because I need a little emotional catharsis. It’s so corny to say that my guitar is my therapist, but it is kind of true. I feel like it helps me come to understand a lot of different stuff. The concept of distance is definitely present throughout these songs. A lot of them are about growing up and changing and feeling a lot of distance from my past self. “Cold Song” is really all about growing up and feeling separate from my childhood. And I mean, a lot of the songs that are about relationships on this album are about old relationships that I have. A lot of the stuff that I write about is more retrospective. I’m not necessarily someone who understands my feelings as they’re happening. I like to have some space and reflection or else my brain is just a massive confusion.
SR: Were there any specific ways that you found yourself connecting to, or reaching out, to your younger self in Attic Days?
JH: I mean, I feel like when I start playing music, it always feels like I’m communicating with a younger version of myself, because it’s something I started doing when I was pretty young. It also feels like one of those moments that is just so private, where a lot of the time, those childish feelings can come through a little bit more honestly. Then it becomes a question of if you want to lift it off the page and into the real world at a certain point. But I feel like when you really tap into your creativity, there is a lot of your childish energy within it and you have to give yourself some license to use that. A lot of the time when I write songs I just genuinely feel like a teenager, like I’m sixteen again or something, as I’m often like ‘this is so dramatic, what am I talking about?’
SR: Songs like “Eat Me Up” and “Know Thyself” are very observational of yourself, but at the hands of someone else. You do allow little moments of grace, like on “Not My Medicine”, to define your worth as your own person. Was this conflict something you wanted to highlight or did it come out naturally through writing?
JH: I don’t think it’s something I necessarily intended. I think a lot of the stuff that’s in my music is not always something I intended in terms of, especially when putting together an album, being thematic in certain ways. For me, it sometimes feels random, to put a bunch of things together and see the patterns that might emerge, but it wasn’t necessarily intentional. “Eat Me Up” and “Not My Medicine” are both about someone consuming you and exploiting you a little bit and are both based off of feeling bad in a relationship, but again I wrote them pretty far removed from those feelings that I still carry around.
Photo by Max Glazer
SR: Is it easy for you to tap into and relive these old unsavory feelings?
JH: Yeah, I think a lot of what those songs are written about is gonna feel visceral, and it is easy for me to remember how that feels. But yeah, “Eat Me Up”, my mom hates that song. There’s definitely some metaphors in there that she finds unsavory for sure. “Not My Medicine” is supposed to feel more empowering in the message, like you don’t understand what I am apart from you, but at the end of the day, I’m my own person, and I can separate myself from you.
SR: You are known for having a really rockin’ live show, and that rawness translates into such a fun record to listen to as it feels like a step forward in your band’s recorded sound. How involved was the band when fleshing out these songs?
JH: Generally, I write my songs in a pretty solitary way, but I feel very blessed to have found a group of people who just get it, they hear it so fast. It’s really the most rewarding feeling. I’m primarily a singer, so I’m not a super well trained guitarist. I was an English major in college, and my songs are really lyric driven. I sometimes have ideas for guitar leads that I hear in the song, but I’m not someone who shreds necessarily. But James [Strelow] and Bronson, they shred. I do play acoustic sets sometimes where it’s literally just me and my acoustic guitar and it’s a really different sound than the full fleshed out band. Playing with them is something I’ve started to become really addicted to.
SR: Have you been playing these Attic Days songs live for awhile now?
JH: That’s the funny part, when it comes to recording, it takes such a long time that I’ve been playing almost all the songs on this album for at least a year. I think it’s kind of funny to release it, especially to the people who come to a lot of my shows, because I’m like, ‘it’s finally out!’ I think a lot of people expect that it’s all brand new stuff and I’m like, ‘no guys, like this is old.’ I’ve already lapped myself in my songwriting and I have a few more albums in me that are not recorded yet.
Jane Hobson will be playing the McPike Sessions in Madison on June 15 and then back in Chicago at Gman Tavern on July 19.
Written by Shea Roney | Feature Photo by Maha Hemingway
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/community member that has inspired us in some way. This week, we have a collection of songs put together by singer-songwriter, founder of new power-pop band Culture Tax, and Label Director of Brooklyn’s Double Double Whammy, Mallory Hawk.
Earlier this year, Hawk shared two singles, “All Your Troubles / Run Until They Catch You,” finding her embracing a new and vulnerable creative outlet as a songwriter. She is also a leading member of the new group, Culture Tax, a scrappy power-pop band with more music and shows on the way.
Beyond her own music, Hawk is a major advocate for the indie music community, bringing attention and solutions to the gender disparity in producing/engineering, sharing new ways to approach the music market and promotional campaigns, as well as helping artists navigate the unsavory terrain of the industry on her Substack, Senses Working Overtime.
In every aspect, Hawk reminds us that a shared love of music is what builds up communities. In the spirit of discovery and relationships, she shares this write up about the playlist:
“I considered a few themes for this playlist before catching myself shazamming a song at Honey Moon Cafe in Ridgewood, Queens this week. This is a common occurrence, I dwell there at least twice a week and a few of the baristas have impeccable taste. I thought it would be fun to just make this playlist the last 12 songs I shazammed, which could have been embarrassing or revealing, but all it revealed is I’m clearly going through a jangle pop phase. Some of these bands are largely forgotten, others a bit culty. All of it rocks and I totally see why I shazammed these songs. Shout out to Alex who works there, he unknowingly made at least 1/3 of this playlist. Enjoy!”
Cutlure Tax will be having their first show 6/22, at the knitting factory with ducks ltd. and kiwi jr.
the ugly hug 