Slipped Discs

Rosanne Cash - She Remembers Everything

Bittersweet steel-guitar ripples among brushed snare and aching bass; elegant apprehension weaves between sad-ballad resolutions and strong story-teller’s intrigue as woke folk royalty Cash pours her entire being into every self-reflected moment. Personal myths rising from campfire hymnals, “Everything,” connects hearts and minds to humane campaigns with subtle orchestration, clear lyrics and perceptive metaphors shining sober hope onto solemn problems.

Love Jerks - Million Movies

Spry lo-fi rock operettas culled from melodramatic matinees and real-life romance, “Movies,” croon and schmooze in heavy-petting show-stoppers, jiving to hoodwinked hullabaloos, skinny-tie shin-digs and Friday-night house-parties. Fun-loving punks crashing renegade serenades into hopped-up teen anthems, Love Jerks cruise in gear boy-girl face-offs, retro-swinging kitsch dishing electric-blue doo-wop and gushing New Wave hustle; savvy finales crafted for ravenous off-Broadway cabaret.

Kelly Moran - Ultraviolet

Sound-cluster sculptor and aural animator, Moran’s lively style stacks calculated cacophony into climatic happenstance; toppling hops overtaking rippling skips while brisk, exponential melodies engulf waterfall geometry married to fearlessly serial hysteria. A wonder and delight, “Ultraviolet,” negotiates, infatuates and retaliates with keyboard-driven expeditions decorated in gamelan tail-spins and divine pachinko symmetry, sorting assorted contorted choreography into lovely, enchanting and ticklish.

Public Memory - Demolition

Velvet neon streaked across galvanized clockwork, “Demolition,” blends ancient anchorless pangs into precise rhythmic devices for luscious zig-zag schematics infiltrating cool sonic fogs. Submitting shimmering images sinking in impoverished economy, billowing in silhouettes and tangled in directionless dimensions, Public Memory interjects fishbowl ghosts broaching cybernetic etiquette with mobile claustrophobia,  lost, vacuum-sealed lightning rods smoldering under stainless glazes and frosty blue-prints. 

Gabby's World - Beast on Beast

Whip-smart, happy pop swirled in giddy indie-rock, “Beast,” reaches for the stars and grabs brass rings; circling worry with confident promises where friendly suggestions slide down carefree beats riding rainbow highways paved in pastel harmonies. Immersed in day-glo open disclosure and silver-lined kindness, the former Eskimeaux’s reincarnated Gabby’s World spins in dizzy, twist and shout welcomes and genuine, tender good-byes.

Michele Mercure - Beside Herself

Basement arcades whose blissful thrills blossom in primitive synchronicity, Mercure’s overdue anthology trips, flips and unfolds vintage synths and tampered samples marching down cyber-dream construction-sites armed with single-minded grooves chasing funky fire-flies among factory ruins. Surreal symphonies integrating mouse-trap Krautrock, “Herself,” chooses eerie palettes to compose haunting compositions for dances both stiff and spacey, natural and mechanical, flawless and accidental.

Majken - Young Believer

Curious coronations formed from welcoming spells and majestic blessings, “Young Believer,” weaves enchanted piano, heavenly choirs and tugboat brass into nimble chamber-pop ballads swept up in dreamy divination. Swedish chanteuse, life student and self-taught harpist, Majken parlays naked fates against lush repercussions, posing both knowing and innocent while fashioning a mystical balance between benevolent polyphonic melancholy and tentatively centered reverie.

Silent Servant - Shadows of Death and Desire

Diode-toasted motorists piloting breathing machines, heat-seeking Silent Servant merges sullen pulses into roaming monotones; luminous, chattering patterns inhabiting slumbering hums amid throbbing pongs. Manufactured patch-bay midwives birthing cyborg orchestras, SS conducts daring binary aerobatics spitting Ritalin spinners with matrix-stripped persistence. Stroboscopic flip-flops stir-fried in wobbly trigonometry, “Shadows,” salivates in palatable electronics, hunger-driven rhythms and generative sedatives washed in anxious databanks.

Darwin's Finches - Good Morning Creatures II

Brain-pan landslides collide inside, “Good Morning Creatures II,” erupting from powerful sour-mash howls, stormy psycho-blues breakdowns and lurching cow-punk subversion. Grizzled gonzo gauchos, Darwin’s Finches greets specious reality with electric menace and suspicious visions flying off the handle directly into the fire, collaborating with fellow Texan Jandek in a detour-riddled tour de force scorched in psychedelic barbecue from college-town cantinas.

LP - Heart To Mouth

Best intentions stretch breathless connections over smoldering diva fevers; LP speaks directly, singing in foxy pop whirlwinds while building emotional bonfires in the blazing, “Heart to Mouth.” Bittersweet symphonies capture sizzling victory laps inside confessional spectacle as, “Heart,” tackles bewitching entanglements with polish and flair, a deliberate slip and determined swagger wrapping smoldering boldness around beat-greased teases and string-infused grooves.

The Bevis Frond - We’re Your Friends, Man

A double-album loaded in tart remarks, urbane refrains and haughty bon mots, “Friends,” blends British folk-rock loftiness alongside psychedelic-garage barrages for a stunning display of manners and mayhem. Wise country squires swallowed in cosmic squalor, The Bevis Frond’s world swirls in sadness and stoicism, madness and mysticism; caterwauling six-strings soaring over calm heads singing searing suites dressed in elegant despair.

GospelbeacH - Another Winter Alive

Carefree companions ready to rumble, GospelbeacH feeds jangly ranch-hand fandangos into smug honky-tonk rockers for infectious gems assembling wandering hearts onto toe-tapping attitudes.  Divided into lo-fi live-cuts and previously unreleased songs polished to perfection, “Winter,” layers cheerful hometown feels over subtly intricate precision where restless tempests rustle smooth California shuffles rooted in colluding harmonies, rollicking riffs and open road anecdotes

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