Slipped Discs

Sunburned Hand of the Man - Pick A Day To Die

Wildly primal molten commotion meets marauder’s caution and hell-bound humor as, “Pick,” risks exploding myths, unraveling free-rock ragers alongside edible meditations; self-guided tours through cosmic-blues stews, deep-fried Krautrock and chilled twang. Sinister and surreal with dangerous impatience raising rootless moods, Jekyll and Hyde musical pirates SHOTM’s fiendish schizophrenia hides scintillating divinity inside flexing psychedelics reflecting insurgent births and alternative odysseys.

Painted Shrines - Heaven and Holy

Longing songs lit in cross-stitched riffs, Painted Shrines’ night-riding nomads flit and shift in gossamer folk-rock floating on hollow-bodied jangle, wrangling bewitching innocence and soluble melancholy baptized in galloping ballads. Finely tuned tapestries spinning timid yarns from hazy Merseybeat, “Holy,” strums with wide-eyed wonder over growing corrosion, sparse remarks soaked in electric effervescence and six-string shimmer gripped in fleet-footed fevers.

Rachika Nayar - Our Hands Against The Dusk

Fractured scratches running through mortared corridors, “Dusk,” thrusts stuttering fluctuations onto shredded meshes, saturated waves bending and blending through modulated vapors, discreet tweaks and knitted glitches. Tranquil guitar loops routed through ambient samples, Nayar’s electronic monuments crumble from static magic to stark mirages, morphing and contorting with phantom randomness beneath the repetitive sedative chemistry replenishing propulsive convulsions with disruptive ruptures.

Genesis Owusu - Smiling With No Teeth

Fortified in rapid chatter, super-shiny hooks and rock-solid beats, Owusu feasts on plush hustles unfolding whip-smart soul, runaway funk and star-struck R&B, smoked, provoked and coated in suave pop-art. Rent-party kick-starters, sunshine jive and sweet molasses raps, “Smiling,” piles influences on innovations, reshaping familiar pillaging into fresh perspectives whose seamless grooves slide in stylish sci-fi boogie and revolutionary hip-hop voodoo.

William the Conqueror - Maverick Thinker

Boxcar heartache rumbling in weathered leathery roadhouse blow-outs, “Thinker,” swings in rustic shuffles rocking lonesome locomotion with gritty vision, slithering commitments and fleece-lined teases. Cool bruisers and Faustian roust-abouts, William The Conqueror chase steam-powered demons in roots-infused collusion, streetwise preachers blessed in pithy expressions and dressed in grinning brimstone shakedowns for rowdy congregations seeking greasy hobo poetry for stone-cold showdowns.

Middle Kids - Today We’re The Greatest

Touched in sorrow, bolstered by hope and celebrated with authentic pop-rock sincerity, Middle Kids’ subtly cuddly comforts turn universally felt confessions into warm-blanket anthems steeped in pliable vitality, unpretentious energy and exemplary empathy. Direct sentiments sent into gorgeous choruses, piercing lyrics dispensed with personal emphasis, “Greatest,” engages book-smart hooks, guitar-driven rhythms and disarming harmonies into building beautifully potent emotional connections.

Flock of Dimes - Head of Roses

Nursing cathartic heartache in lush synthetic medicine and healing ethereal appeals, Flock of Dimes refines sweetly luminous blues adorned in forlorn country touches, precious declarations cloaked in hope, tempered with acceptance and rendered in elegant intelligence. Intimate epiphanies and agile pageantry masking celestial sadness with stirring verse and beautiful music, “Roses,” composes emotional antidotes to modern longing and slippery relationships.

Hadda Be - Another Life

Youthful jubilant indie-pop grooves bash past vibrant hindsight collapsing into catchy bombast, “Life,” emerges fully formed in calculated fury; mercurial guitars lurching in carousing power chords join rejoicing voices to pummeling drums and spirited bass. Thoughtful ballads appear among sweaty melodies while Hadda Be buzzes in pungent fuzz and forthright might, shading blazing raves in devious immediacy and proactive compassion.

Paul Jacobs - Pink Dogs on the Green Grass

Smart slacker backbeats heated in nervous bursts, deadpan smirks and smarmy calm, the multi-talented Jacobs filters skewed views through greasy cheeky pop, stoked apothecary folk and chugging mugshot rock plotting plausible options against callous reality. Medicated basement stomps and rhythm-heavy head-spinners, “Pink,” rethinks missing links to chain toe-tapping refrains to incorrigible choruses and spin dense sonic webs around free-wheeling feelings.

Dry Cleaning - New Long Leg

Irresistibly aloof, intensely menacing and passively magnetic, “Leg,” weds posh hypnotic scoffs to ominous hopped-up rock, concocting fiery wiry dialogues between haughty squalor and retooled cool. Prickly post-punk cynics, Dry Cleaning lures fashionably jagged thrash into squirming urban settings, cagey jaded cadence trolling droll boa constrictor trickery where slithery misfit twists merge with withering insistence, estranged disdain and casual malice.

Teenage Fanclub - Endless Arcade

Seamless team-players and articulate artisans, Scotland’s breezy Teenage Fanclub craft cohesive greetings in beautifully arranged key changes with genuine tenderness armed in soaring four-part harmonies and steady sunshine rhymes gliding over winged six-strings. Gilded tranquility built from confident fondness and soothing prudence, “Endless,” befriends, mends and defends; melodic case studies in splendid indie-rock melancholy falling softly on solid Britpop solace.

Hooveriii - Water for the Frogs

Crispy riffs rip through lofty cacophony and sinister precision as, “Water,” solders methodical prog chops to cutting bluster, cauterizing wild tribal Krautrock into therapeutic confusion oozing sensory frenzy. Diabolical cabals jamming with supernatural stamina, Hooveriii’s brazen psychedelic waves crash over crunched stunts with punchy lunges, converging dervishes colliding in writhing outbursts with jazzy backing from nimble rhythms and incandescent presence.

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