Linnea Siggelkow, who performs under the dream-pop project Ellis, independently released her sophomore record no place that feels like last week. The Hamilton, Ontario based artist is no stranger to movement, having shifted and reallocated all over Canada as she was growing up. Ellis, as a creative project, has become a way for Siggelkow to work in configuration with her innermost thoughts of existence and belonging, something that has become overbearing the past few years. Within this new collection of songs, told through booming alternative displays, lasting pop hooks and deliberate patience, Siggelkow gives the floor to her most intrusive thoughts as she tries to answer what it means to belong.
Whether the songs are rooted in their patience and subtlety or strung out by souring melodies and brooding distortion, no place that feels like takes despondency in hand, finding beauty in the sanctuary that Siggelkow has built herself. Songs like “obliterate me” and “it’ll be alright” feel more in place on a sunny car ride to nowhere rather than in a place of desolate wallowing, regardless of how sobering her lyrics may be. The leading single, “forever” feels free of any debt that the word’s very real meaning can carry. “Now forever is passing me by”, she sings, relishing in the release of permeance through heavy guitars and an airy reprieve of spirit. Songs like “taurine” flow within a liberating shoegaze-esque style while “what i know now” is a bouncy folk lament, as the chorus loosens up, singing “and it was too good to be true”.
Photo by Stephanie Montani
The beauty of no place that feels like is most notable when answers are not rushed, rather endured through a patient and cathartic dive into what it is that is holding Siggelkow down. In that sense, some of the most moving and impactful moments on the LP come from a delivery that understands why this waiting room exists. The opener, “blizzard” is a story split into several different scenes, holding onto cinematic subtlety in its pauses as she walks from verse to verse with deliberate contemplation. “Emptied out on the balcony/A distant hum in the quiet street”, opens “balcony hymn”, a growing song of second guessing, marking space in time and story where Siggelkow has room to listen to her own worries. The standout track, “home” perfectly sums up the theme of belonging, most notably when Siggelkow sings “no place that feels like”, purposely withholding the title word, replacing its absence with an outro that erupts into a warm and cathartic release.
For an album that relies on tension, confusion and doubt to drive the theme, there is an unmistakable sense of relief that we walk away with after listening to no place that feels like. Ellis has always been able to make oblivion feel approachable – where it begins to feel less like a burden, but rather an opportunity for repurpose, growth and understanding. Although frank in her delivery, giving a voice to dark personal struggles, Siggelkow’s soaring melodies, blooming walls of sound and new explorations fill the album with compassion and patience, until no place that feels like is a home in and of itself.
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 and photographer Kat put together a list of swooning tin-can laments, indie-folk gems and coarse pensive rockers.
Will Roesner – “Ant”
Will Roesner, based out of New Orleans, LA has been gifting us with singles consistently throughout the year and I always get a dopamine rush when I hear one of his new releases. “Ant” is one of my favorites from the last batch of releases. I’m a sucker for a slow, sad burn and Roesner delivers just that. With a lo-fi guitar, a little twang, layered vocals, and cutting lyrics it checks all the boxes. Every time I listen I imagine the meme of a sad little ant with a sack over its shoulder (if you know you know), so bonus points for that. If you’re into the worlds of Elliot Smith, Alex G, and Greg Mendez, Will Roesner will be a perfect addition. Check out his last albums Farms and Stuff and Spirit, Hello for more lo-fi indie/folk goodness.
meg elsier – “forlyleinsanfrancisco“
Nothing catches my attention quite like an angsty alt-pop song. Thanks to meg elsier my emo alter ego is nurtured. I became a devoted listener with the discovery of last fall’s single “ifshitfuq”. elsier has not failed to impress, putting out one reliable track after another, perfect for singing along to in the car. “forlyleinsanfrancisco” features a driving electric guitar and a nice slow build that results in a noisy and ever-satisfying resolve. Her full-length album spittake, to be released this summer, will undoubtedly be an authentic and vibrant collection of tunes to follow.
True Green – “Buzzerbeater”
“Buzzerbeater” off of Dan Hornsby’s debut album My Lost Decade has been on heavy rotation for the last few months. Hornsby, who is also an author (Sucker, Via Negativa) brilliantly crafts songs through idiosyncratic narratives and character depictions that never fail to engage and beguile. My attachment to “Buzzerbeater” likely stems from my affinity for mathy fingerpicking, an egg shaker, and lyrics that evoke a reflective and nostalgic mood. I recommend enjoying the album in its entirety on a sunny walk in a park to compliment My Lost Decade’s breezy warmth. Fans of Slaughter Beach, Dog, and Trace Mountains might be particularly drawn to this one.
Bloomsday – “Dollar Slice”
Brooklyn-based artist, Bloomsday, has steadily become one of my holy grail artists alongside other East Coast talents in similar taste like Babehoven, Sadurn, and Sister.. Bloomsday always offers crisp, deeply satisfying, tender reflections on the human experience. One of three of their latest singles, “Dollar Slice” has been a welcomed companion to the blossoms of spring. “Dollar Slice”pulls out all the stops with layered vocals of my dreams, perfect touches of twang, and subtle percussive adornments. You’ll likely leave the song with a softened sense of self and a more regulated nervous system. Keep your eyes out for the album release of Heart of the Artichoke off Bayonet Records on June 7th, just in time to complement the soundtrack of your summer.
Sour Widows – “Cherish”
Sour Widows, the trio from the Bay Area, is my go to band for all my alt rock needs; dark guitar tones, slow builds, and pensive contemplations on life. Sour Widows are masters of duality, always simultaneously portraying the tenderness and harshness of life. “Cherish” achieves so much in the matter of 5 minutes. The song slowly builds and eventually crashes into the chorus’ tender harmonic plea, “I wanna be cherished by you, not feared by you”. The song’s clashing resolution provides the catharsis of a good car scream. I love to listen to Sour Widows alongside other melancholic alt-rock bands like Title Fight and Crisman. Don’t miss the release of their first full length album Revival of a Friend, out on June 28 via Exploding In Sound.
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 Nick Sullivan of the Brooklyn/Boston band, Joyer.
With the release of their new record Night Songs out this Friday, Joyer has spent a lot of time on the road. Just finishing up a leg of touring on the West Coast and a week at sxsw – while also preparing for a handful of album release shows in the next few weeks – the band has seen a lot of the country together.
In honor of the time spent in route, Nick curated a playlist of songs derived from their van’s growing CD collection. With a mix of celebrated rockers, charming deep cuts and demos, even some songs from their contemporary companions, this playlist is a reminiscence bump for a time filled with variety, uncertainty and comradery for a band doing what they love.
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, photographer and “whine” snob, Manon Bushong, shares a list of heavy hitters and sweaty basement cathartics.
Forest – “Always Forever”
This song has been haunting me in the best possible way since the first time I heard it, and I urge anyone who also harbors a soft spot for a good scream to give it a listen. Forest’s frigid voice paired with compelling percussion and, of course, a series of sporadic shrieking in the latter half cements “Always Forever” as a must listen for anyone partial to the brusque nature of Babes in Toyland or eerie vocals of bands like julie and Double Virgo.
Interlay – “Lure”
Although Alexandria Ortgiesen could sing the Liberty Mutual jingle and I would without a doubt have it on repeat, I believe Interlay’s latest single is one of their best yet. The Chicago-based band has been a favorite of mine since the moment I heard Cicada; a powerhouse EP teeming with abrasive post-punk sounds and welcoming motifs of death and decay. With the release of “Lure”, Interlay reminds us not to put them in a box. The softness of Ortigiesen’s vocals, absence of the overbearing guitar of Cicada, and the song’s general melancholic nature pitches the band well into shoegaze territory. “Lure” evokes a resemblance to legends of the genre like Lush and Blonde Redhead without abandoning Interlay’s signature harrowing grunge feel.
MX LONELY – “Papercuts”
“Papercuts” is my favorite off of MX LONELY’s “SPIT”, an EP analogous to Wednesday’s “Rat Saw God” if you swapped the Asheville ethos and twang for heavy-gaze and Brooklyn grit. The lyrics recall a disturbing dream about killing a friend to end their paper-cut induced suffering, a morbid concept intensified by heavy guitar riffs and increasingly distressed vocals. Bonus points for a sinister 90s-esque music video.
Shitkid – “Dirty Guy”
Though Åsa Söderqvist technically retired from her solo project ShitKid in 2021, she recently spoiled us all with the release of an alternate studio version of her debut LP “Fish” (appropriately titled “Rejected Fish”). “Dirty Guy” is a previously withheld track that explores the innate desire and internal battle attached to pining after a person who’s bad for you. My favorite quality of ShitKid’s work that feels especially present in “Dirty Guy” is her ability to hone the perfect whiny vocal. An allegiance to the discographies of Bratmobile, Emily’s Sassy Lime, and Heavens to Betsy have made me a “whine” snob, but I can attest that ShitKid has mastered this eclectic craft in a way that’s both raw and euphonious.
Kim Gordon – “I’m A Man”
Though I applaud the entirety of Gordon’s new solo album, “I’m A Man” is the chilling lo-fi track of my dreams. Gordon is no stranger to critiquing masculinity, yet she is perpetually up to date in terms of content, delivery and sound. “I’m A Man” is a hysterical commentary on the way male toxicity manifests today, referencing painted nails and skirts as a means of absolving blame and singing from the perspective of a character who wants us all to know it’s NOT his fault he was born a man. Though it’s undoubtedly divergent from her prior work, the Sonic Youth co-founder’s distinctive droning vocal style layered over trap beats on this song could have easily catapulted Gordon into a career of SoundCloud virality or Brooklyn DJ niche fame.
Splattering hot oil from the fryer; burning and boiling, New Orleans based project, STEEF, have self released two new singles today, “Frozen in Place” and “That’s How I Feel”. Founded and fronted by Stevie Spring, these songs are acting one-offs for more STEEF material to come, as they shift their sound towards apocalypse energy, proving time and time again that if you can’t handle the heat, then get out of the kitchen – before it comes to life and destroys you.
During the pandemic, Spring had an urge to make the “perfect” pop record. But the word “perfect”, bearing weight in its undertones, became an obsessive; hyper fixated on critiques and changes to the point where music wasn’t fun for him anymore. Trashing it all and starting over lead to 2022’s, Post F, a sonically offbeat, stress free and notably fun record that brought out a new urge – to trust the gut. Spring knew that somehow, somewhere in the acidic lining of his stomach were beautiful characters of freaky sounds, stringy apple-peeled pop hooks and a love of creating again that brought out all of the things that STEEF could be.
These two new songs lead with cynicism, playing into cyclical patterns and harmful noises that we are often exposed to in the modern world. “Frozen in Place”, introduced by a bass line stuck in commute with a poised click track, feels stuck as the edge of impending doom begins to speed towards us. “I perceive it all burning down”, Spring repeats, almost in a plea before the song is smothered and consumed by the same click track – power hungry in its own ability to control time.
“That’s how I Feel” is the embodiment of the voice that lives in Spring’s head, echoing internal dialogs, faults, and intrusive thoughts around the walls of his cranium. With a blend of hyper electronics and a tight Minutemen-esque rhythm section, “That’s How I Feel” is stiff, yet potently lethargic as Spring uses his most fatal flaws in the name of persistent betterment.
STEEF is announcing a limited edition run of 30 tapes by Kiln Recordings in New Orleans upon this release. You can stream “That’s How I Feel” and “Frozen in Place” on all platforms.
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 Brooklyn based singer-songwriter, Leah Rando.
Recorded up in the Catskills, Leah Rando’s latest EP, at least sometimes, feels enveloped in an intimate isolation – yet, its warm being freely moves on its own within the record’s instinctive patience and ravishing stillness. Written and played in chronological order, at least sometimes displays Rando in terms of vulnerability, pain, and eventually healing, as she searches for ways to define and grow within her own spaces.
Today on the ugly hug, Leah Rando offers a collection of songs that feel utterly absorbing; redefining the sounds, feelings and beings that we can take inspiration from in our own daily spaces.
Every Friday, a staff member at the ugly hug curates a list of their five favorite new(ish) releases to share with us all. Starting us off is our co-editor and graphic designer, Audrey Keelin and this variety filled list.
Blue Ranger – Close Your Eyes
This entire record has me delighted, but the last song on the album, “Stoned Reply,” blew me away. With the anthemic qualities of an indie heater but sitting at eight minutes and 30 seconds, Blue Ranger establishes their place in contemporaries like Fust, Sluice, and Hovvdy. If you like any of these artists you’ll be sure to lose yourself in the slow-burn artistry of a constant rise like “Stoned Reply.”
mary in the junkyard – “marble arch”
The whimsical mary in the junkyard, another incredible act to make its way up and out through south London’s iconic Windmill Brixton scene, delivers magnetic, whispery vocals, stank-face percussion, and punctuated melismas. With a fascinating set of music videos, mary in the junkyard have been consistently providing a mysterious, fascinating image for listeners, releasing small bits of music leaving us begging for a full album. Listen if you like Fiona Apple melodies, post-rock rhythm, and the lyrical visceral imagery of bands like Black Country, New Road.
The Last Whole Earth Catalog – “Have You Ever?”
Dan of LWEC blesses us with yet another act of prolific music making with his new song, “Have You Ever?”. Since catching a LWEC set in North London in 2021, I’ve been sitting on the edge of my seat, with awe at Dan’s constant craft and flowing, stream-of-consciousness creativity. His act of rhythmic surprise, his tendency to layer vocals like a sweet sandwich, and his mastery of warm, almost visual, acoustics create a dynamic scene unlike anything else I’ve ever heard. Please listen for a journey of surprise and sincere genre-defying magic that somehow manages to resolve quite comfortably.
Ugly (UK) – “Icy Windy Sky”
Ugly has consistently made me feel validated in the face of the beauty of grief. This new tune, “Icy Windy Sky,” carries the energy of a bossa standard I’d hear at a weekly dive-bar jazz jam but manages to compile influence from traditional English folk, ultimately carrying the familiarity of a song I thought I always had the chance to listen to but never knew I needed. Listen if you like the Dirty Projectors, Fairport Convention, dissonant harmonies, beautiful cover art, and a driving bassist.
Masakatsu Takagi – “Marginalia #151”
I’ve recently become really obsessed with new releases from Masakatsu Takagi, namely works from his “Marginalia” series. Known for writing scores, namely making music for the Studio Ghibli documentary The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness (2013), Takagi’s music instantly makes your life into an animated film, slows down your heart rate, and adds romantic vibrancy to the world around you.
“For such a long time I think we’ve been defined by our proximity to being teenagers,” Peppet admits. This is clearly a thought that has been on her mind for some time now, bearing visible weight with its built in expectations. Spencer Peppet is the singer and songwriter for the Cincinnati band, The Ophelias, who released their first LP, Creature Native back in 2015, now almost 9 years ago. “We were 18 when we started. Mic was only 16”; all of them still attending high school. “We were very young and that was part of our thing.”
Today, The Ophelias have released their self produced EP, Ribbon; a five song collection that marks a big turning point for the band. It’s their first bit of new material since 2021’s full length album, Crocus, one that followed a narrative path encircled within a toxic relationship. Now on Ribbon, Peppet takes back autonomy, not only redefining the expectations of a band trapped in youth, but one that puts the responsibility of redefining themselves into their own hands.
Album Art by Jo Shaffer and Spencer Peppet
As a four piece, Peppet (guitar/vox), Mic Adams (drums), Andrea Gutmann Fuentes (violin), and Jo Shaffer (bass), The Ophelias have referred to themselves as an “all girl band” upon the their formation, but over the years, they now call themselves a joyfully queer and trans band. Being spread out across the country, it feels like they are the broken mold for collaboration, regardless of the distance between them. With three albums amongst their nine years, with fairly large gaps of time in between, there have always been identifiable points of transition when it come to their sound. But in their foundational spirit, the four members have found a way to reinterpret dynamism, each playing to their own stamina, colorfully animating a blend of sounds; yarn-tied folk tunes, glittery bedroom pop ballads and peeled cinematic clementines that feel rich in flavor, often picking out the bitter pith from between their teeth.
But when it came time to track Ribbon, “I think we realized the music we have recorded and released doesn’t sound like what we sound like live,” Peppet describes, which takes on a much heavier, much more sodden sound than what’s perceived of the band. “It’s funny, Jo always jokes, ‘call me chill one more time,’” she says, wagging her fist in the air with cartoonish irritation. “But I think when played live it translates differently and we’ve really leaned into that recently. The new music that we have on both this EP and other stuff that we’re working on kind of solidifies that and we now can say, ‘okay, this feels accurate.”
Alas, earlier this year The Ophelias released “Black Ribbon”, the first single dedicated to this cycle and the most sonically contrasting song in their catalog as of yet. Starting off in their classic melancholy meander, the song settles into a moony night drive, picking up speed and tension as it hits the straightaways, only prompted by the line, “What do I do now / Will you kiss me again / Am I doing well?” to be blanketed by the plumage of static distortion and pounding drums. This ravenous climax is head turning to say the least, but it doesn’t compare to its final release – leaving a pounding heart to catch up with the stillness upon the songs closure.
Comfortable in its mere three minute run time, “Black Ribbon” marks a huge step forward for Peppet, not just in redirecting the band’s sound, but it freely explores topics of identity and intimacy as the song is a relic to her journey of coming into her queerness; a time that simultaneously occurred with her partner [Jo] Shaffer’s transition. “I honestly didn’t know if I was ever gonna put that song out,” she shares. “I had to check with Jo, of course, before I did, because I was like, ‘this is not only personal about me, it’s also personal about you. Are you cool with that?’”
With two thumbs up from Shaffer, “Black Ribbon” was a chance for Peppet to present her authentic self as she navigated not only a new relationship, but a healthy one as well. “I’ve been with the same person for 7 years now so break ups aren’t really the topic anymore,” she says with reflection. “Of course you’re going through teenage heartbreak and teenage angst, but as I’ve gotten older, you know, in this long term relationship, I’ve been very excited to see that [my songwriting] has not just stopped and that wasn’t the only thing I could write about.”
“I have a tendency to think of things as very black and white. That’s something that I need to work on, because it turns out everything lives in the middle,” Peppet says, stepping back and taking into consideration a much more full picture of her life. “Everything is in the gray area.” As a thematic through line, she defines this “gray area” as the in-between places; “the moments that feel like they don’t fit into good or bad, friend or foe,” as she explains them. “The stuff where it’s like, ‘okay, why does that feel weird?’”
Peppet currently resides in Brooklyn, having propagated herself since moving away for school. “This is where I have my full adult life,” she explains; a nice little community with her partner, her work, and a sustained life of neighborly interest. But in regards to her Middle America roots, she will easily admit, “I also still feel deeply connected to Cincinnati” – best put as a slogan you can slap on a t-shirt; “you can take the girl out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the girl.”
The percussive and externally gratifying track, “Soft and Tame”, feels like a lump in your throat, casually inept to go down with each persistent swallow of Peppet’s lyrics as she narrates a time she took a post-grad visit to Cincinnati after a significant absence. The song organically and exceptionally shifts between anger, apprehension, and clarity, while its poignancy is clearly towards one individual; “there are people I don’t want to see,” obviously, “but I’m not gonna scream ‘get the fuck away from me’ at them in person, you know. That’s why the song exists.” But in the end, those emotions begin to feel like a sincere level of displacement that bleeds into Peppet’s own life as she juggles this shifting idea of home. “I don’t belong / I’ll make my own / Giving up love in the south of Ohio,” she sings, sifting through the breadcrumbs and pebbles left behind in hopes they go the right way.
There is a certain infatuation that comes with homesickness that holds both time and place on a pedestal – a habit to use memories that feel true to its only existence. But as she grows up, changing into who she needs to be, Peppet has found that Cincinnati has come to represent a piece of her that no longer exists. “I remember in either late 2021 or early 2022,” she begins, “I went back to Cincinnati and realized that I didn’t know any of the bands playing. There were restaurants that were gone, and new things that I hadn’t gone to. You know, the little things, but also they’re the things that I felt were reflective of my larger experience of still considering this home.”
In no way, though, has the city become a point of contempt for the songwriter, but a unique impression to understand the functionality of her adulthood. “There’s a lot of history in that city for me, and sometimes I’m there and I get to experience it with everybody. And then sometimes I’m watching from afar and being like, ‘okay, why does this feel weird? Especially in the couple years right after college, I had this feeling of like, ‘okay, life is happening in Cincinnati and I’m not there for it, because I don’t live there anymore.” But as she grows and builds upon her life in New York, Peppet still travels back to Cinncinatti every so often. “I’m still in the same place, but it’s me now, right? It’s not high school me. I don’t have to be her anymore and I’m thankful for that. That’s the comforting part.”
Ribbon is less about rebranding The Ophelias as a teenage band that has become an adult band, but rather an opportunity to redefine themselves on their own terms, both as an undeniably strong and creative group as well as maturing individuals. Although they are in the midst of completing their next LP, these songs on Ribbon had to enter the world first. “I mean, Nick transitioned, Jo transitioned. We all graduated, and there was a lot of stuff that’s happened since our last release. This just felt like a good time to reintroduce ourselves.”
Through it all, Peppet wants to be clear that not all of these “in-betweens” are inherently bad, but a spectrum to consider when the time comes. “These songs are me kind of wiggling around in there,” she says while mimicking a very determined worm of sorts – one either destined to seize its opportunity and make it to the other side of the stretch of wet sidewalk or be left to dry up in the sun, imprinting the concrete in the name of effort and betterment. “I think just by the nature of time I guess it has to be in hindsight,” Peppet describes this bit of sincere wiggling. “I’m not as chaotic as I was as a teenager. I feel much more settled in myself, and now I just look at the world and think, ‘okay, what’s going on here?’” she laughs. “I highly recommend it.”
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. Starting us off, we have a collection of songs crafted by the Queens based singer-songwriter, Hannah Pruzinsky.
Last week, Pruzinsky released their stunning debut LP, No Glory, under their growing project, h. pruz. In a celebration of patience and space, No Glory builds upon this dire urge to stay present, regardless of the shifting ground and passing reflections that disrupt our existence.
In spirit of the record, Pruzinsky offers a collection of songs, some transitional, some instant, others invincible, that they have used to feel rooted into their surrounding world.
There’s a feeling of bottled euphoria and catharsis built into the new single “Rabbit” by Minneapolis-based indie rock band, Creeping Charlie.
“Built a world of rabbits and sea urchins/ And I’m a little girl in a nightgown/ Chasing sun spots up the stairs,” lead singer/ songwriter Julia Eubanks sings, airy and mellifluous, on the song’s opening.
There’s angst and a touch of melancholy, but those emotions ebb and flow until they’re released in a wave of explosive joy on the song’s chorus.
The band is led by sisters Julia (guitar/ vocals) and Esmé Eubanks (bass), along with drummer Jack Malone and guitarist Harry Miles.
There’s a definite 90’s alternative rock influence to Creeping Charlie’s sound. They describe themselves as “soft grunge,” drawing on influences from alt-rock staples such as Mazzy Star and Nirvana.
But some of their musical DNA on “Rabbit” seems to draw inspiration from another Twin Cities punk/alternative rock band – The Replacements. That comparison is most noticeable in the band’s steady and tight knit rhythm section that constructs an earworm of a beat.
There’s substance to the 90s musical style that Creeping Charlie draws on. This is a rabbit hole that invites listeners to explore again and again.
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