Written by Shea Roney | Photo Courtesy of Jake Barczak
Back in May, Jake Barczak released Rainbow Autel, a record built on “reckless infatuation” and a knack for sound melodies. For as minimal as they are, the subtlety of these songs does not get lost in the weeds. Strikingly different when compared to Barczak’s other project, Bullseye, Rainbow Autel comes off the heels of their self-titled debut LP. exchanging the jangly guitars and robust dynamics that have made a name for the New York-based band, Barczak now plays from the marrow of each song, the simple and worn in, knowing how far to lean back in the old porch chair before it’s too late.
They say history is always written by the winners; but who can even afford the materials these days? Rainbow Autel is easy to identify. Its range of love, loss, and bind to American exceptionalism comes nicely with the wooly instrumentations of robust acoustic guitars and jangled banjo. But whether it’s in the withering heartland orchestral of “The Living Body”, the epic tell-tale of neglected service on “Jackie”, or the lost infatuation of “Look At My Tongue Now”, it’s an album written for the losers of the everyday. For our relentless epiphanies.
We recently got to chat with Barczak about the project, storytelling, and the Midwest.
You recently released a solo record, Rainbow Autel, which notably follows the debut LP from your other band Bullseye. Where do these songs fit in the timeline of these two projects?
As a whole, the songs on the solo record are a lot more recent–the Bullseye stuff has songs on it that are as old as 2020. Rainbow Autel is all from the past two years.
Leaning a shoulder into classic folk structures and stripped back production, what made these songs discernible to this project compared to anything you were writing for Bullseye?
Probably the most obvious distinction during the songwriting process is that all the RA stuff was written on an acoustic guitar… Also I think in the last couple years I’ve been (re)-listening to a lot of folky acoustically-oriented stuff so that played a role too. Some of the songs are fingerpicked/have travis picking… so for those it was never really a question of whether Bullseye could play ‘em, I feel they were only suited for the solo set-up. I think it’s definitely related to writing with an acoustic guitar in hand, as opposed to an electric, even one that’s not plugged in… but the vocal stuff that came out seemed further away from rock music than the direction Bullseye has taken, so that made it feel further appropriate to make it its own thing ya know.
“Relentless Epiphanies”; what inspirations influenced Rainbow Autel? What stories lent themselves to these songs? Were any unpredictable in the grand scheme of these songs?
Hmm.. that phrase is some nonsense (meaningful to me lol) that I jotted down a while ago–like the burden of meaningful realizations is funny as a burden. I suppose that’s growth. But sometimes it’s like comically concentrated, ya know. The stories that lent themselves to the songs were largely pretty classic I guess– some important periods of love, travel. And in some cases digging a little deeper (?) or maybe older… and recalling some existential/loss questions in my life and vicariously through others’. I think “Jackie” was slightly unpredictable. I did not expect to write that song, and it came out in sort of a flash. Haha people keep clocking one of the very direct influences on that song… it’s certainly clockable 😉
You lead with a poem on the album’s bandcamp page, ending with the line “You have a power”. Where do those thoughts of surrender and infatuation feel most consequential in your life? Has it always been obvious?
Man, I guess I’ve learned in my life thus far that there’s quite a lot of relinquishing, and yeah, surrender that ought to go into a relation between people. I think perhaps when we’re younger, or maybe just my neurotic ass, there’s blindness or ignorance around the type of interpersonal peace this can afford– just letting it/them be. Uh… I guess “you have a power” resonates to me now in this way. I’d say it hasn’t always been obviously this type of surrender. I suppose that an earlier version of this would be feeling like you’re at the mercy of love or some other relationship haha. But that shifts to a more… yeah maybe like reckless infatuation -> peaceful surrender actually. TMI!
Now based in New York, you came from Minneapolis. Do you still have a kinship to the Midwest? Does it at all have an influence on what you create or the stories you tell?
Yeah I love the midwest. I’ve been reconnecting with friends in Minneapolis recently and making a lot of new ones in the broader Midwest. I definitely feel a strong connection to all these folks. And yeah… I think, famously, there’s a certain sort of humility and kindness that’s midwestern. I don’t know if it shows up in my songs, but I’d like to think they have a bit of that in them. Or at least that I do lol. There’s also the Dylan thing of course, though he like eschewed his Minnesotanhood or whatever… That said acoustic guitar music broadly speaking to me feels super at home in the Midwest. I’m actually working on a song right now for a second solo tape, hopefully out later this year, that’s a pretty blathering ode to the midwest (also coded as a love song, of course). Hah it’s silly, but I try to be more lenient with my silly tendencies these days.
Listen to Rainbow Autel out now as well as snag it on cassette.
Written by Shea Roney | Photo by Averi Love Little
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 the Chicago-based group, Current Union ™.
Current Union ™, the amalgamation of siblings Reid and Kira Isbell (twin coasts), has become one of Chicago’s best kept secrets. But to hell with that label. As the city forges its youthful faction of renegade blues and pop-rattled liaisons, CUT’s explosive instrumentals and post-punk provisionals find common ground between control and chaos. And to their credit, the latter is glorious. Now operating in full force, it’s an alchemical shift, as blood cells count heads and melodic dispositions take aim, Reid’s sharp guitar and Kira’s syncopated drumming are pushed further to the edge by the thrashing of Seamus’s saxophone, Jackson’s turgid bass, and Isaac’s sonic manipulations. Their sound arises from refusal to be afraid, to be cautious, and to capitulate in these dark times. But rather, the band has forged their own way, their demands to dance emphatically and to break the binds of any and all expectations are as clear as ever before. Current Unit ™ may seem like they are building up higher, but they are already big.
About the playlist, CUT shared;
“The falconer cocks his rifle; follow the notion to your own retreat. Screeching echoes and pulsating rhythms: the rocker’s dub and dance club. Like a sound that draws blood, a CUT is as physical as it is volatile.”
Written by Lexi Howard | Photo by Cameron Garrison
M sits leaned back in his chair, dressed casually in all black. He’s got on a pair of trousers that even a JNCO wearing zoomer would admit are baggy. Deep in thought, he watches strangers walk by through the coffee shop window as late afternoon sun pours in. He looks at me and picks up where he left off. “You always know what you should be doing, what you have to do. You know in the moment; you’re not stupid. Anything else is an excuse. And still we toe the line and sometimes cross it,” he says as a matter of fact. That’s the ethos behind Purgatory, the debut EP from Boston-based project Pew Pew, a release that touches on themes around humility and guilt over six churning, beautifully dissonant post-punk tracks. Or as M put it, “the dissonance between what should have been and what is.”
Sonically, M described Purgatory as being “very tight with repetition that degrades and then disintegrates.” But through the middle stretches there’s always a nice melody. “Every song has to have one thing that I go, yes, that,” he says pointing emphatically. “If the song doesn’t have that, then there’s no point.” Take the title track, for example, which first lays a pattern with M’s vocals mixing melodically with bassist Tanya’s over 90 seconds before establishing a new, darker set of riffs and harsher vocals. Finally, a synthesis emerges as Tanya’s sweet vocals return and the two previous melodies, guitar riffs, and drum parts merge imperfectly and teeter on a razor’s edge before falling off.
Photo by Cameron Garrison
Pew Pew started over 2 years ago after an impromptu jam session when drummer Eamonn Burke showed up to a cancelled practice that was scheduled for Boston omnichord rock band Ohio State Fair, on which he also plays with M. The duo played a couple of riffs together and “that’s pretty much when the band started.”
Through community, M knew that Night Moth and Squitch bassist Kit Malmberg might be available as the latter project wound down. “I think I asked them if they like Protomartyr or something like that.” They were down. “And then I wanted another guitar player and Kit was like, I know this guy, Jon.” Jon Wallis, of Jonny Tex and Hereboy. The four-piece worked out a handful of songs together, led by M. “I write the skeletons of the songs but I am hesitant to call them mine,” said M. “A lot of the most productive stuff was when we were getting tired of each other. We were like, let’s just swap instruments. Kit would grab a guitar. And then, ‘oh, that’s what we needed’,” M said of Kit’s contribution to the outro on one of their early tracks, “Cheers”.
That summer, less than six months after forming, the group got in the studio to record. The group released a couple of tracks from those sessions — “Cheers” and “Gank” — but M felt that some of the songs weren’t quite ready to release. “It was just maybe a little early to record.” So the group sat on those songs. Then Kit moved to New York, and M connected with Ohio State Fair and Dino Gala bassist Tanya Orlova to fill the vacancy.
After almost a year of performing together, the reconfigured group got a last minute studio spot. “Little Nice Studio posted that they had a last minute cancellation and said someone can take it for cheap.” The group played a 5 band bill in Boston, then got up the next morning and drove to Rhode Island with recording engineer Nate Scaringi. “That [it was last minute] was honestly good because I probably would have kept over thinking it otherwise,” said M.
The four-piece recorded the EP in its entirety live in about 9 hours. “We just went in the room. No fancy stuff. One amp each,” said M, noting that they recorded vocals separately in their practice space and during mixing sessions. “I wanted it to sound grittier than the first stuff that we put out, which was more high fi. I think [recording it live] added to how the whole thing sounds because it’s very raw.” The EP was mixed by Ian Norris, who M was excited to work with. “Ian has written some of my favorite music of all time with his band Taurus Judge, and he has a great ear. He’s a great engineer. It felt good to have someone very excited about this style of music.”
Purgatory is made up of songs that the group came up with after Tanya joined, plus one that they re-recorded. M noted that his bandmates each bring a unique element to the songs. “Practice is where we flesh the songs out. Each of them has something that someone else came up with that made the song. Like the drum part on ‘Purgatory’. Eamonn came up with it, and it’s incredible. I love it.” said M.
M added that the group takes melodic inspiration from Tanya’s vocals. “Even the guitar parts often come from the harmonies that Tanya [came up with]. [On the song ‘Purgatory’] I think all of Jon’s guitar part and the whole ending came from Tanya singing the chords that they wanted to hear,” said M. He added, “It was stuff that we weren’t hearing ourselves, but they have the ear for that. They’re trained, they’re a musician,” he said. “We both missed Kit and we were also happy that Tanya got to take over that spot.” M also noted that Jon has come up with a guitar tone that gives the band a unique sound: “Jon has figured out this kind of odd, distorted guitar. It can be very harsh and sound off when sound checking alone, but then with the band, it works. It’s those little things like that. I couldn’t imagine coming up with a song and then not having those tools at our disposal.”
M said that his experience touring with Brooklyn-via-Boston slowcore/shoegaze band Joyer and Alexander, the project of Boston songwriter turned poet Alex Fatato, helped build connections that turned to friendships in the DIY scene across the northeast and midwest. “I met people years ago that are helping us book our debut tour now [in the Northeast] and in Detroit, Chicago, Pittsburgh. They remember me and they’re like, ‘I’ve heard you’re in this band. We should help you out.’ It was a godsend to start a project of my own after already having some experience in other people’s projects.” He added, “I mean, it’s a little corny, but it does speak to the value of this whole DIY network, this community. I wouldn’t have had that same luck [booking this tour] otherwise.”
He went on about how so many folks in the local scene have gotten Pew Pew exposure despite having little recorded music. “In terms of the local scene, getting to meet Jason [Trefts] from Illegally Blind [has been impactful]. That guy believes in us. It’s great to have him help us out, put us on his own cool shows. We got to play with [Western, MA-based] Landowner and [Philadelphia bands] Eraser and Mesh before we had music out. It felt crazy,” said M. “Ian [McGregor] who books Deep Cuts, [under the moniker] Eye Design, he’s also brought us some good bills. We opened for FACS, a Chicago band. Jon kept joking, ’This is like opening for The Foo Fighters for us’. That’s kind of how it felt.”
Maybe it is corny, but from the beginning, the story of Pew Pew is one of community. “It’s kind of shown that it ultimately just matters to meet the right people,” said M. “It doesn’t have to be the right people in an industry sense, just someone who has good taste by your own definition. That connection can align you with others who share your taste.”
M leans back again. “I sent you the art, right?,” he asks. I pull it up on my laptop. “That’s my grandma in the middle, with the red flower. It’s a picture of the contestants of Miss International, Long Beach, California, in 1964, and my grandma participated as Miss Peru. It was a newspaper cutout or something. My grandma does this thing with all her black and white pictures, she’ll be like, ‘It didn’t look like that. Let me color it.’ And then she colored it, and it just looked perfect.” Who said purgatory couldn’t be sweet.
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 the Florida-based duo, pal.
Through all the noise, the inclusive harmonies, the meaningful acoustic spells and the interchangeable fidelities, pal elicit the most contagious daydreams and infatuated anthems in their short yet mighty collectives. Back in 2024, pal released a tape with Rope Bridge Records that contains nearly their entire catalog. In it you will find the band putting value to the simple and often overlooked, as the duo expand on their environment with a rippling sense of curiosity, an inebriation caught between the security and anticipation that feels to only exist as the sun slowly clocks in for the day. And to their credit, their work exudes with an inherent sense of kindness, offering a quiet respite, a still moment that sticks to you like the hair of a dog, as each piece is picked off one at a time with the care and attention it needs. Filling us with gratitude and yearning for that next special moment with someone we love, pal is here in the meantime to fill that space. Peace and love, always.
About the playlist, the duo shared;
“These are some of our current rotations and some classics we fall back on.”
Written by Joy Freeman | Photo Courtesy of palefire
In true DIY fashion, my interview with palefire hits a connection snag on Zoom five minutes in. From a bedroom in Denton, Texas, Jacqui Torres re-materializes on my screen. “The best part of DIY is that it comes from real people,” she enthuses. There is an art to the imperfection here.
Torres’ debut LP as palefire, full heart, big empty eyes, is entirely self-made, apart from a mix /master and drums from her partner, Echo Goza. I shouldn’t be surprised when she tells me the stunning strings are played in-house too. She’s a classically trained cellist.
After twelve years of playing and time spent in Boston studying the instrument professionally, she shares, “When I write a song, I hear it before I even start playing anything. So I definitely just heard the strings.” Elliott Smith’s XO is cited as a primary influence.
The intimacy in palefire shines through from the intro track, the lo-fi “hello world!!!!” It sounds like a phone call with a friend, an invitation into the whimsical vulnerability of the record. This recording is a departure from her previous two singles, a lean into a slightly poppier sound and a splicing down of 7-8 minute demos into digestible snippets.
When I tell her that the scope of the album leans from Clairo-reminiscent to Kimya Dawson, she laughs. Elliott Smith stands out as a focal inspiration yet again. “Within the last two weeks of writing the album, I was listening to a lot of more twee indie pop people. Touch Girl Apple Blossom, Brittle Stars, The Sundays.” Torres leans into this aesthetic, designing her own album cover with pastel color palettes and light-leaked photos.
Songs like “Sweet as a yankee” play into Torres’ home state. Her response to my mention of Texas is initially a hesitant, “bleh.” Then, she pivots. “I feel like being in Texas motivates me musically. As I’m writing and as I’m recording or playing shows, I’m just like, ‘Okay, I just need to finish this, and then maybe I’ll get booked on a tour, and I can get out of here’…but I’ll probably stay here forever. I love my friends.”
“My Peace” is another favorite of hers, and her most vulnerable on the album. “I definitely just wanted to paint a certain scene or ambiance of cuteness, but also, kinda sad and sweet. Bittersweet.”
I ask how she honed her production skills independently after leaving school as a classical musician.
“I dropped out, and I was like, ‘Okay, let’s rebuild this foundation. Why do I do music in the first place?’ And I got to talk to a lot of my friends, and a lot of them were producers. I got into Logic, and I made my first song. It’s still on SoundCloud. I don’t know how to freaking get into that account and take it down,” she jokes. After she met Echo playing lead guitar for his band, she learned how to mix. “You can make something catchy. You can make something heartfelt. You can make something simple. You could use a four-track. I feel like depending on the atmosphere I wanna create, I can just do it now. It is so nice to have that artistic liberation, you know, not just with the songwriting, but with the production.”
Initially, palefire was a shoegaze project, but after a few months Torres decided to pivot.
“Everything will always be changing, but everything will always be me, because I am the person who writes and produces it.”
Full heart, big empty eyes is available now on bandcamp. The album will be available on all streaming on July 13th.
Writing and Photos by David Williams | Live May 21st at the Empty Bottle
Sometimes less is actually more, especially in the case of Miss Grit’s dynamic live performance. The New York-based artist, also known as Margaret Sohn, only needs a guitar, a pedal, and a projector to mesmerize the sold-out Empty Bottle crowd on May 21st. Sohn came on my radar after her daring debut record, Follow the Cyborg, a concept album about a machine’s journey to “awareness & liberation.” The main subject of the science fiction story was fifty percent human, fifty percent machine, but the music was one hundred percent enthralling.
Now, Sohn is touring off her latest album Under My Umbrella, which was released earlier this year. The songs feel like a truer version of herself, not singing from the perspective of a cyborg, but one that embraces being human. Shedding her robotic cloak gives Sohn the freedom to show the world just how real her talent appears to be.
The songs from Under My Umbrella vibrated throughout the set. Sohn’s voice is truly stunning in person and captured the attention of the audience from the jump. The live songs captured the intricate and delicate details as on the album, engineered by Sohn’s longtime collaborator Aron Kobayashi Ritch from the band Momma fame.
Miss Grit delivered a brooding performance jam-packed with fuzzy electric guitar shredding, glistening techno beats, and all served to display her dynamic songwriting. Being an opener, you’re most times behind the eight ball in trying to keep the focus on your performance. Sohn displayed the poise, confidence, and overall skill set of a performer that won’t be opening for many acts going forward. A star is on the horizon, waiting to be born.
Check out our gallery of photos from Miss Grit’s set in front of a sold-out Empty Bottle crowd.
Earlier this year, Chicago’s own Ratboys shared Singin’ to an Empty Chair, their grandly acclaimed sixth studio album. Composed of singer and songwriter Julia Steiner, guitarist Dave Sagan, bassist Sean Neumann, and drummer Marcus Nuccio, Empty Chair wields textures underneath each sonic strain as Ratboys dig into these bruised but deliberate songs, rediscovering value in the language of music and the meaningful connections that come out of it.
Back in February, Ratboys hit the road for 8 weeks, taking along Chicago’s Andy “Red” PK on pedal steel, to share their rock n roll goodness all across the country.
We gave Raboys a camera to take on tour. Here is what they sent back.
Listen to Singin’ to an Empty Chair out everywhere now. Snag a copy on vinyl, CD or cassette via New West Records.
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 the Louisville-based band, PARKiNG.
PARKiNG, the trio of Lizzie Cooper, Boss Benson and T. Moore, create music that is harsh, and gloriously so. The band’s debut LP, PORTRAiTS, released one year ago this month, feels as timely as ever in the hum of western collapse. Defunct, distressed, observant, surreal, but human; PARKiNG home instrumental fixations to combat the dead ends, algorithmic lashes, and the has-beens and the has-been-nots caught between our ever-separating formalities and devotions. And through the searing noise, the breaking infrastructure and melodic demands, PARKiNG builds a podium but declares no winners. Rather, the young band offers refuge in the complexity of these songs, giving space to fill when isolation and unease absorb our world, and pushing us to each take a step up and get a better look at what’s ahead.
About their playlist, the band shared;
“Influence and praising others expression has opened our eyes to glance out at the majestic vast sea of artistry and the waves of construction that follow. Like a sculpture we have become carved and engraved with the strains that passed through our cores. Attend to with intent.”
The bite of cyanotype’s newest single is worse than it’s bark. Today, the Brooklyn-based duo composed of J.C. Vargas and Silvia K. shared “wish sometimes”, an emotionally blistering track cloaked in something pretty, wilted, and deceptively gentle.
The fickle tone of its title bleeds into the entirety of the track, as “wish sometimes” carves itself into a perpetually liminal space. Robust melodic bones offer some sense of an anchor, but beyond that the song feels restless; living entirely on the fence of something else. That is not to say it is chaotic – in fact, “wish sometimes” is eerily temperate. It cultivates poignant and stirring tensions without ever turning to cheap tricks or dramatic juxtapositions, speaking to cyanotype’s astute songwriting, and the duo’s ability to deliver visceral unease through more delicate routes.
“wish sometimes” was mixed by Sonny Diperri and mastered by Dave Cooley. Accompanying the single is a video that toes a similar line between unsettling and beautiful. Featuring Skyli Alvarez and makeup done by Lee Coco, the video, mirrors the raw and emotional feel of the track, and nails an aesthetic seeped in gothic motifs and cyber influence. You can watch it below.
As a small music journal, we rely heavily on the work of independent tape labels to discover and share the incredible artists that we have dedicated this site to. Today, the ugly hug is highlighting the work of our friends over at Musical Fanzine.
With a focus on joint audio and zine releases, Musical Fanzine is a DIY record label from Providence, RI run by James Walsh. Running with the tagline “keep queer punk not corporate”, the label has grown into a mighty collection of pop song day dreamers, punk rock lamenters and DIY swooners alike, all built upon that simple pleasure of sharing and discovering awesome music. With a catalog reaching back to 2015, MFZ has been a home to artists such as susie derkins, DUMP HIM, ORTHODOXXER, hidden driver, wavers,Who Brought Opie, mini golf water feature, time thief, and Looser, with some exciting adventures on the horizon.
We recently got to talk to Walsh about starting the label, making zines and Providence Popfest 2026.
“This 2026 label sampler features songs from past, present, and future Musical Fanzine releases. It was put together specifically for readers of The Ugly Hug.”
James Walsh and Zoë Wyner of Musical Fanzine (Time Thief)
Your vision for this label was to combine the work of releasing an album with the art of a curated zine. What is your relationship with zines and what made you want to include this passion with a label?
Books and music were sort of my two respites from the world when I was growing up. At some point, they kind of naturally merged in my mind before I even knew what a zine was. I started going to record stores and buying physical media in middle school, and I was always so stoked when an album would include robust liner notes. Those liner notes became my way of getting to know a band. I didn’t have access to a computer with internet at home until I went to college, so the most accessible way to find information on a band was through liner notes, lyric sheets, and all that. Those kinds of things became very important to me.
I learned about zines proper for the first time when I was 14. I remember finding this webpage that had excerpts from a bunch of old Kathleen Hanna zines – April Fool’s Day, My Life with Evan Dando Popstar, some Bikini Kill stuff. They all totally blew my mind wide open and had me questioning everything I thought I knew at the time. Later, I made friends with folks who wrote zines and volunteered at zine libraries – the very first DIY spot I ever started booking shows at was also a zine library (Flywheel in Western MA). I’ve written a few, but not enough. Mostly, I’m just an enthusiast.
What makes a good physical accompaniment to an album?What is that creation process like?
I started out by conceptualizing zines as sort of extended liner notes. I personally love when zines include lyrics, tabs, inspirations, band pics, all that. That said, it’s also really cool to me when bands do something totally unexpected with their zines. There are so many folks in bands who are incredibly creative in other ways – visual art, writing, etc. I’m always super stoked for those elements to be incorporated and to see what folks want to do. I think I’m still just looking to get to know a band in a different way via their zine.
In a nuts-and-bolts sort of way, the process is pretty simple: usually a band will make a zine, totally dealer’s choice, send me the master (digital or physical), and I’ll deal with printing and assembling with Zoë’s help.
You started this label in 2020 and it went through a handful of changes since. What were your goals in the beginning and how have these shifts influenced the way you approach making and sharing music, as well as the way you run the label?
The label started as a vehicle to release the vinyl version of my old band’s (DUMP HIM) first (and only) full length record. We were working with a label who was able to offer us help with a run of tapes at the time, but not records, so we decided to do that part ourselves. When it started out, the label was intended to be collectively run by the band, but we kind of stopped doing stuff together around when the pandemic hit. Everyone else mostly moved onto other things and the label kind of became my baby.
DUMP HIM by Jonathan Vahid
As far as goals go, it was really important to us to put out music by queer folks, and it was pretty important to me that releases came with zines as often as possible. There were, of course, certain labels I was really inspired by – Sarah, Mr. Lady, K. MFZ has definitely stuck to the first goal, but the second has become tricky. It turns out that it’s kind of a lot to ask that a DIY band churn out a zine to go alongside a record that they just finished putting a ton of work into. Sometimes, it just isn’t realistic – I get it! I always encourage it, but if a band can’t make a zine it’s not the end of the world.
One exciting change is that I think I’ve finally figured out a good formula for DIY releases through a long process of research, trial, and error. So now I can produce CDs and tapes in-house (can’t do that with records though, but luckily my bandmate Tyler makes GREAT sounding lathe cut records over at Audio Geography). I’ll sometimes still get tapes pro-duplicated and CDs pro-pressed, but as costs for raw materials have gone up it’s become a lot harder to make small runs of tapes financially feasible for the label and still affordable for the folks who’d like to buy them.
So, now I have this nice Nakamichi deck that I’ve been hand-dubbing releases on in real-time. It’s well maintained and sounds pretty fucking good. I figured out a way to stamp directly onto tapes that’s kind of pad-print adjacent. I also recently bought a CD duplication tower that has changed the game for me. Zoë is a visual artist and has had a lot of great ideas in terms of packaging; she sort of leads that aspect of things and does a lot in terms of designing layouts and assembling artwork/j-cards/liner notes.
MFZ HQ
I think handmade stuff has kind of developed a stigma in the past decade, even though it can be just as good in many ways as the pro-dubbed stuff if you have the right equipment/materials and do your research. I have so many cassettes from the 90s / early 00s that are handmade that I have no complaints about, but it feels like bands don’t think that’s cool anymore. So, when I do something handmade (which is about half of the time now), I’m trying to make everything the highest quality possible to kind of push against that stigma.
What are some of the releases in the MFZ catalog that have stood out to you? Whether that be from joy, a learning experience, etc?
This is such an interesting question! It feels wrong, like picking my favorite cat or something. I’ll choose some milestones.
Susie Derkins
One release that I don’t think ever got its full due is an EP by Susie Derkins called How to Talk. It came out in fall 2020 when the whole world was hibernating. It’s 5 tracks of really great indiepop (I’ll disclaim here that I played bass on it, but that was more as a utility – I loved the band so much and wanted them to keep going, they needed a bassist, I play bass, all worked out). All of those songs were primarily written by my friend Sam Stoakes who was very much inspired by bands like Talulah Gosh and also P.S. Eliot/the Salinas catalog.
mini golf water feature at Bleak Outlook
Another release that stands out for me is the Mini Golf Water Feature discography tape/CD that came out last year. This label started out as a vehicle to put out my own music and my friends’ music. The process of working on MGWF discography was the first time I was working with a band that I hadn’t met anyone in (Ollie from Hidden Driver plays in that band, but we somehow hadn’t met in person until a while after this release). That was kind of a milestone for me, and super encouraging. It was great working with them, folks in that band are super multi-talented in art and music and audio engineering, and I think they’re doing something super original and cool with their tunes.
Hidden DriverPhoto by Ed Zeitz
You recently hosted the Providence Pop Fest this past May with an extensive and exciting bill of artists from all over. With your intention of the line up, as well as creating a space that prioritized perspectives of queer and trans folks and women in indiepop, what were your goals from the jump? What was that organizational period like for you?
You kind of hit the nail on the head with our goals from the jump when asking this question: the whole point really was just highlighting women / queer / trans folks who make music in the realm of indiepop, etc. That’s something we kind of mentioned on our website and stuff, but we didn’t want to make a big deal of. The queer, feminist, kind of punk aspects of indiepop are what has really always drawn me to it. Like the Huggy Bear/Comet Gain connection, or the Atta Girl EP by Heavenly or like, I don’t know, the entire fucking concept of All Girl Summer Fun Band. Or a band (one of the greatest) being named Henry’s Dress. I could probably go on all day, but point being: indiepop is way more feminist, way more punk, and way gayer than I find some people expect, or sometimes seem to make space for. So I guess we just wanted to help facilitate the creation of a space that felt good to us, and hopefully to others. No genre gatekeeping, no celebrities, and lots of women and queer folks.
Speaking of genre gatekeeping, it was pretty important for us to include peripheral types of music, not just what folks think of when they think of indiepop. We both believe pretty strongly that there are so many ties between indiepop and other subgenres in terms of people who make the music – lots of folks in “indiepop” bands are in post punk bands, synth pop bands, hardcore bands, and so on. It feels silly to make up a definition of a whole genre, and then gatekeep anyone who doesn’t fit our strict definition. We both played Athens Popfest in our old bands, and genre-expansiveness was an aspect of Mike’s curation we both really loved. Pylon Reenactment Society actually headlined that fest too the year I played! I think our experiences in Athens, GA set a really great example in terms of what exactly a popfest could be sonically.
Providence Popfest 2026
The Hobknobs by David Paterson
Pylon Reenactment Society by Emma Tavares
Good Flying Birds
Dear Nora and Mirah by Emma Tavares
Beachplums by Emma Tavares
Jeanines by Emma Tavares
Touch Girl Apple Blossom by Emma Tavares
Sun Urchins by Emma Tavares
Cursor by Emma Tavares
Lightheaded by Emma Tavares
Mesh by Emma Tavares
Galore by Emma Tavares
Malasada by Emma Tavares
The Sofites by Emma Tavares
Future Stories by Emma Tavares
Hidden Driver by Emma Tavares
Linda Smith by Emma Tavares
Nova One by David Paterson
Sweeping Promises by David Paterson
Now coming off of the success of the fest, how was it? What did those three days mean to you? Any particular moments stand out to you?
I’m not quite sure how to articulate how much those three days meant to me. I’m not a person who cries often, and I teared up at least three times. The fest felt really good, kind of like a convention of like-minded folks who were all into similar types of music (and as far as I know, had similar politics). One thing that has really stuck with me from that weekend is the environment of support and solidarity that every single band, AS220 staff member, volunteer, and attendee had a part in making happen. It felt like this little multi-generational DIY utopia in the midst of some of the toughest times in the world around us.
Show Flyers from Past MFZ Eventsand Shows
Do you have anything planned for MFZ in the future? What are you looking forward to?
So much! Well, first off, there’s next year’s popfest which we’re already planning for. And I have a few releases lined up! I’m doing a sort of reissue / expanded edition of Older Brother’s EP from last year, The Devil Hangs Around, in early June! Older Brother is one of my favorite bands going right now, and they happen to be from Providence, so I’m really excited to work together and feel super lucky that they said yes when I asked them if I could make them some tapes.
Older Brother
There’s also a lot more in the works that isn’t set in stone yet. I might be putting out a cassette reissue for one of my favorite indie pop bands going right now, which I’m really stoked about. time thief is working on our first full length record, which I assume MFZ will be involved with putting out in some way. Otherwise, I’m just trying to be braver about asking bands if I can put their stuff out.
