But first, remember when I wrote those long, unrelatably vitriolic posts on songs I didn't think were so good?
I'm re-reading them now and all I'm struck with is a baton of embarrassment. It's like "omg shut up you're like that totally unfunny dejected "special snowflake" introvert who's sooo cultured and srs and opinionated about everything and sits in the back during parties while everyone else dances unselfconsciously to phat jamz and talks about video games and anime using words like "beautiful" and "fucking amazing" and is like super vocal about how stupid religion is and agh fuckdksn go listen to Sleepytime Gorilla Museum and watch "The Amazing Atheist" with your ponytail you wacky narcissistic manchild get a therapist and leave the house or something" and such and such. Sorry if you found those funny BECAUSE I'M CALLING YOU OUT SO HARD RIGHT NOW.
Well, not really. I just find them kind of embarrassing, personally.
BUT HEY, this isn't the start of another eye rolling, self-deprecating pre-music discussion rant. I think I'm actually over that stuff 4 realz and even that last scoff at my expense was more about drawing a line between 2012 edition Steve and the self-assured, literary phenomenon and bastion of wisdom and who now speaks before you. You sheee, 5 months can be a long time when you're on the road (especially in your early 20s, I presume) and the last 5 months were nothing if not a particularly long time. Now I feel like a totez different person - one who might write these blogs in hopes of slowly improving instead of delicately posturing and mercilessly editing my ramblings to appear as a more experienced writer. That makes some sense, no? For someone who constantly referenced the abysmal readership here (no biggie), I certainly put a lot of self-conscious scrutiny to work in tackling such topics as "Banner Pilot is sorta boring" and "Matchbox 20 is corny".
But enough of the past. Let us partake in some sweet, sweet musical nectar:
ITEM THE FIRSTTH:
I love the bananas out of Katie Crutchfield. Up until "discovering" P.S. Eliot's Introverted Romance In Our Troubled Minds - perhaps my favorite album of the ever next to Broken Star - I really never had a favorite songwriter. Since then, I've trekked through everything with her name on it and have not once been disappointed: from the fuzztone pop-punk adorableness of Bad Banana, the rapidly improving bedroom acoustics of King Everything all the way to Waxahatchee's American Weekend, then way back to the teenaged mediocrity of The Ackleys (I know, but I wasn't "disappointed" - they were, like, 16 okay?). Her wordy, bookwormish, emotionally conscious lyrics of heartbreak and the like always get to me in the best way possible, and I'd be seriously okay with songs like "Bathtub" and "Incoherent Love Songs" chilling in my brain for always. All this said, there is a new Waxahatchee album out now and I'm hankerin' pretty hard to hear it all the way through again. I mean, listen:
I "wait...what?"ed pretty hard when I first heard this, and perhaps you will, too. If you've heard Waxahatchee's split with (ugh) Chris Clavin or the full length LP, American Weekend, you'd know what to expect: a lonely voice lilting out from the fuzz-drenched lone acoustic guitarwork and little else. BUT YOU'D BE WRONG MOTHERFUCKER. That was harsh. But you would be wrong, 'cause the production this time around is totally not 4-track-inside-a-garbage-can quality, and on top of that, additional instrumentation provided by Katie's boyfriend and... I think her sister's boyfriend? fleshes out the sound from 'bedroom rehearsal starkness' to 'restrained session musician fullness'. While this transition might do away with many of the old style's charms, the songwriting is still top notch, the lyrics still painfully honest and sad, and the amount of variation on here makes me really excited to see where the project will head next.
The album was streaming not-so-long ago, but evidently it's been taken down, so pick up a copy here and maybe that awesome haircut t-shirt that you'll feel compelled to ship to me because you're so grateful for my return to Blogland.
(srsly I'm becoming way poor)
ITEM THE SECONDTH:
Did you ever notice that when you look at a Screaming Females' album cover, you're like "that is the ugliest, most unpleasant thing you could possibly put on there" BUT THEN the next album comes out and somehow it's even uglier? Okay well maybe they never outdid how fucking grotesque Power Move is, but they deserve props for putting in a pretty solid effort every year.
I know that was irrelevant but I didn't realize Waxahatchee and Laura Stevenson were both on Don Giovanni (home of Screaming Females) so I had to see what else there was that I was forgetting. And then tell you about it here on the internet.
Anywaifer, Laura Stevenson and NOT The Cans are putting out a new album real soon and I'm crazy excited. I mean, The Cans are definitely on it but everywhere I look it just says "Laura Stevenson - Wheel", so... I guess it's just implied? But I digress because I'm a terrible writer. The point is, these new tracks sound fantastic and the cover art is gorgeous - almost like something you'd find on an old psych-folk or krautrock LP. "Runner" is an energetic burst of beautiful indie-folk pop with the kind of hooks, instrumentation, and vocal harmonies that make me want to listen to it forever (which I'm working on, actually...) and "L-Dopa" is a Big Black cover. Okay no its not. It is a gorgeous 6-minute piece with a lush string section and lyrics that'll make your eyes water and your bottom lip quiver embarrassingly in public, though. From these two tracks its hard to say whether Wheel will be the same huge leap Sit/Resist was to A Record, but I'm hoping it's at least on the level of it's predecessor, which I think it's nearly flawless.
Check out the new tracks and pre-order wheel heeyar.
Also, does anyone still find it funny that Laura Stevenson was the keyboardist in Bomb The Music Industry? Because I don't know why but I still do.
ITEM THE THIRDST:
Look at me, being all up to date and relevant and stuff. Supporting the scene like it's nobody's business. You may have already heard from literally everyone in the world that RVIVR has a new album and it's radcakes, but they, like... do. "I got into RVIVR back when their first EP dropped back in the day", I said to the ever-so-slightly younger punks I was addressing, "and I've watched them improve hugely from there. This means that my opinion that their new LP is the best thing they've ever done is objectively purer than yours, and if you feel differently, your insecurities will make you question your personal truths. Oog. Scene veteran." But srs. It's really, really good, and I definitely do think it's a huge step up from their self-titled, which is saying a lot about how awesome I think it is. There's less space in the mix, but it gives the album a super full sounding brightness, especially when the extra voices and organ come in and kick you in the tearducts. On top of that, Matt spends a bit less time showing the world how to enunciate loudly and actually SINGS a few times. Not super well, but it's cool that they're trying new stuff. And yeah, it still has that element of corniness in the lyrics and bombast, but if you're unlike the old, overserious Steve of last year, this shouldn't be any barrier to you losing your shit to almost every song on here. Especially the last song, which makes everything feel so epic and heartwrenching.
Oh, and there's a musical trilogy! Like Daydream Nation! Except the first part sucks instead of the third part. Alright, it doesn't really suck. The lyrics make me cringe pretty hard, though. So un-posi. :-(
Listen to it heeeeaaaarrrr and then check back EVERY SECOND because you'll be able to buy a real copy pretty soon.
Well. That wasn't the worst return to writing I've ever made. Unless it was. It's hard to say these days when the self-hatred isn't spewing out of every pore constantly X forever. Fuck yeah, not hating my every move. Either way, one things for certain: it was probably a way weird thing to use that particular picture of Katie Crutchfield instead of, y'know, an actual press photo.
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