PLAYLIST: 10 Songs FOR FEBRUARY 2023
I think you and I (and you too) can agree that local music’s been popping off recently. We’ve been to some bomb shows this month, and new great music seems to be coming out left and right. We’re stoked! You should be too!
Here are some of our picks from last month:
TV Star - “In-Between”
Listening to “In-Between” feels like traveling through an unstable timewarp. You land feet-first somewhere in 1991 with its introductory metallic bass line, and then it blooms into something that flashes between alt rock, UK indie jangle and 60s floreted psychedelia like an old CRT. Its influences might be shrouded, but the track itself is super solid. There’s an analog warmth gelling all its parts together, and Ashlyn Nagel’s voice floats over the top like sunlit particulates kicked up over an antique board game. There’s no pointing in rewriting the book if what’s on the page is done so well. -RM
The Sons of Rainier - “Orion”
From its opening moments, “Orion” is designed to impress. Check out that guitar riff! Those harmonies! The twang! It’s a carefully-executed song with a classic country vibe, and every little detail sits right. The brushed drums round out the touches of wistfulness brought on by the duel guitars and three-part vocals, and Devin Champlan’s brittle voice quavers like it could snap with too much weight. The Sons of Rainier have only been around since 2017, but from tracks like these you’d think they were lifers. I wouldn’t doubt it. -RM
Coral Grief - “Wow Signal”
By now, you can probably tell we have a little crush on Coral Grief. Wow Signal is yet another song that justifies it. Atop a presiding dream pop feel, the song winds a new path at every turn. As Morrisey's bass tumbles effortlessly over an ambient backdrop, surprising melodies continuously unfurl. The reverb-coated guitar running throughout takes sudden rhythmic detours into garage-like territory. Cascading chimes tune in and out, lending an ethereal quality to the mix. No matter what gets added or subtracted, everything seems to fit right. -AL
The Whags - “How We Hear”
Seattle-based five-piece The Whags share the first single off their upcoming album, "Routine For Now." This song, “How We Hear,” is aglow in warm and warbly Americana. Even-toned airy vocals play over a steady bass groove backed by scatting keys and bright guitar riffs. Meanwhile, the lyrics mull over a relationship on rocky ground. I know of few other songs that keep you engaged with the story at hand and concurrently make you feel like you're floating carelessly down a lazy river sipping on something cold graced with a tiny umbrella. That could just be me projecting /manifesting. But either way, it definitely works for me. -AL
oddy knocky - “Lacey’s Breakfast”
Y’all. This is tender as hell and hands-down one of my favorite things to come out of Seattle this month. It’s a 3-minute ode to Stephan Ibanez’s recently departed smol one (of the cat variety), named Lacey. Despite the undercurrent of loss, the song is such an easy listen. “Laceys Breakfast” relives the everyday ritual of her morning brekkie down to the minutia of its subsequent scents. The quiet, patient nature of the track effortlessly mimics the relationship it reflects on. -AL
La Fonda - “Kaleidoscope”
La Fonda step their game up on their upcoming debut record in every conceivable way, and “Kaleidoscope” is part of that package. For a band known for dreamy atmospheres and upbeat rhythms, this song broods amid an oppressive minor key and broad, almost cinematic production. Key to its success are the Topacio sisters’ uncommon dual harmonies and Jesse Cole’s guitar lead, both of which intertwine caduceus-like on the chorus. Shades of gothic rock a la Evanescence linger as the song fades out without a clear resolution, preparing us for the inevitable. -RM
Juliette - “Blush”
Here's something for the mind and body: the perfect song for which to twirl dramatically, carelessly into the void. Fresh off of Juliette’s EP, Where I Can Be Myself, “Blush” lands with both feet in a hazy euphoria. One of two singles on the EP, this dreamy track resembles an imagined lovechild of Roosevelt and Tycho. It sits squarely between Kulicke's expansive range, embracing both the bass-smattered club mixes much of Seattle knows him for, and the semi-atmospheric bedroom electronic music his discography reflects. “Blush” seems to take the dual identities and find a place to them to live in perfect harmony. -AL
Words cannot express how much I love this little act. They just rip, dude. And the pair of songs they just released both take the project even closer to Jordan Brawner’s previous project, the underrated Meanderthals, mostly just because now there are vocals involved. It’s worth reminding that it’s not easy to drum along to notes programmed on a Gameboy (for Exhibit A, the Pokemon soundtrack), and Matt Anderson does a phenomenal job at keeping up with her quicksilver patterns. It’s hard to pick a favorite between the two songs on the single, but this one stands out because it rushes through what feels like four or five parts without breaking up the energy. There’s an unpredictability to the track that thrills, and by the time Brawner hits those rapid-fire guitar strums halfway through, the itch I have for this kind of music is fully scratched. -RM
Breaks and Swells - “No Grubs”
This is the kind of shit I wish I had running background in my brain all day in place of the Animal Crossing: New Horizons theme on loop. Alas, K.K. Slider has my subconscious in a death grip. This track, “No Grubs,” is an instrumental from Break and Swells’ latest album. Rhythmically captivating with horns ablarin’ and keys atwinklin’, it bubbles with vibrant notions of funk and jazz, locked in an energetic groove. -AL
King Dude - “Oranges and Lemons”
Thomas Jefferson Cowgill has been in the game for just about two decades now, first in local death metal act Book of Black Earth and then, starting in 2011, as doom-folk purveyor King Dude. Throughout the 21st century Cowgill has dedicated himself to exploring the darkest corners of humanity, and that’s why his newest release, Nursery Rhymes, feels like an outlier. Its title is played (mostly) at face value, its contents a collection of lullabies both familiar and rare. This track, one of the shortest of the bunch, also feels like one of its sweetest. Over plaintive guitar and a vagabond synth, Cowgill layers his effortless voice twice over, his bassy voice scraping the sea floor. As it his wont, he’s still singing about debts and guillotines, but the tone carries the melancholy comfort of a memento mori. Having a daughter changes you, after all. -RM