Slipped Discs

Holly Herndon - Movement

From dilating diaphragms to intergalactic collapse, “Movement,” molds audible monsters infiltrating cyber-jungle rumbles dropping modulated mazes framed in asthmatic mathematics. Congregating oscillations breathing alien, synthesized transmissions spawn suspense-filled pauses between sinister hissing, subtle mechanical insistence from oddly organic dissonance. Eerily disquieting, intriguing and secretive, Herndon’s inter-breeding machinery hatches captivating, elastic soundtracks bathed in gurgling turbulence, trapped gasps and vacuum-sealed squeals

Clinic - Free Reign

Unglued blues prowl and peruse while muddled clubhouse curmudgeons creep, creak and brood, steely-eyed and serpentine, Clinic’s wiggling post-punk addictions and woozy basement-rock convictions cast murky magic over dank, clanging dangers; chain-rattling wranglers driving sleepless dreams between jazzy fog-bound travesties and mild-mannered psycho-ticklish ministries. Straining in mournful horns, jumpy percussion and spooked-out guitars, “Reign,” reclaims abrasive dockside savior’s endgame shenanigans.

Goldenboy - The New Familiar

Savory, paisley chamber-pop dressed in shimmering licks, plush harmonies and coiled chords, “Familiar,” morphs well-oiled formulas into passive narratives held in tightly-knitted nets; radio-friendly assemblies pour sensitive medicine from poignant appointments extracting melodic charms from intricate incidents. Worldly-wise and quietly obliging, Goldenboy’s soaring voyages explore subtle detours, landing listeners on sunny shores, a patient oasis painted in brilliant chromatic ploys.

Bambounou - Orbiting

Brittle digital disco-militant turned knob-twiddling citizen, Chinatown Parisian Bambounou paints acrylic breezes inside robot-driven legions, tapping pneumatic habits and punctuated passions through plastic-wrapped splashes and dribbling squiggles. Chicago House boxed and restocked, swift clicks stitch while palpitating synths squawk, peripatetic actions packing funky false-starts sends, “Orbiting,” off the charts plotting twitching minimalist partnerships between icy flights and scalding hip-hop gestalt.

Black Forest Fire - Transit of Venus

Sweet bee-hive vibes float, coat, storm and swarm conjuring corrosive hypnosis from free-floating jangle, “Transit,” channels rapturous aftermaths past sizzling six-string narcolepsy enlisting rumbling drums, skittery riffs and ghost-riddled vocals to mobilize BFF’s spongy alt-rock stunners. Cushioned in vertigo-inducing diversions, the Austin trio’s effusive debut swoops, dives and glides in half-abandoned rambles, landing in undemanding reverie and stolen candy-coated emotions.

Julie Doiron - So Many Days

Drawing from youthful country-blues pursuits and solitary alt-folk melancholy, Doiron’s congenial chamomile chameleon deliver self-reflective lullabies glazed in rumbling twang and swaddled in hummingbird harmonies, plain-spoken guitars and coy, cautious observations. Calico camaraderie steeped in meek sweetness and doused in mousy countenance, “Days,” flavors life’s everyday strife in unobtrusive reviews of subtle deeply-felt troubles yielding wishful epistles from barbed-wire diaries.

My Radio - Starts in the East, Falls in the West

Foxy pop-rock shadow-boxing reeling in fleet-footed feelings, breathless benedictions and rallying cry choruses; “Starts,” sparks headstrong songs equipped with delicious riffs, nuclear-powered bounce and melodic brawn. Tough but tender, courageous and flirtatious, MR’s suave, impetuous sketches reinforce romantic candor through glitzy wisdom, earnest firmness and spring-loaded control; a two-pronged marathon between sizzling missiles and trim ringers baited in anxious impatience.

Paul Kelly - Spring and Fall

Modern minstrel and Australian icon, Kelly’s folksy farewells and sturdy, well-earned concerns unfold and console through glistening jigs, vaudeville waltzes and waxing honky-tonk ballads; scrappy raspy acoustics wrapped around home-brewed truths, nomadic moods and troubadour roots. Delving into deliverance, “Spring,” wrings wistful tales chronicling confirmations, troubling impulses and nagging introspection battered by desire, lifted in love and cradled in experience.

Wild Yaks - Milion Years

Lung-busting thunder roars and cavorts unleashing stampeding sieges of six-string squalor beneath vigorous twists, shaggy tragedies and rambling good cheer, “Years,” starts strong and never lets up, piling propulsive roller-coaster blasts on top of ragged, galloping bombast. Loosely convoluted and divinely conspiring, multi-faceted passions rule Wild Yaks’ rousing indie-rock assaults, unflinchingly floundering in unhinged binges, gripping trips and existential interventions.

b. fleischmann - I’m Not Ready for the Grave Yet

Swirling percolations, ominous phenomena and placid pitter-patter knit bewitching synergies beneath academic oratory, semi-detached irony and cheeky offbeat sequences.  Austrian multi-instrumentalist fleischmann’s oddly logical, microcosmic dollops paint plaintive puzzles dressed in clanking rancor, anchored by bubbly brilliance, radiant cadence and literary lunacy. A whimsical symphony weaving sharp, sardonic comments around rhythmic fits, “Grave,” persuades and surveys, happily mapping sonorous scenarios

Midnight Magic - Walking the Midnight Streets

Twitching tempos pant, vamp and rave in vixenish conniptions; locomotive voltage from aerobic robots time-jump between funky mirror-ball boogie and modern cosmopolitan voodoo. Throbbing neon pop, “Streets,” creates earthy squirming in sultry cyber-soul, tantalizing fever dreams realigning animal grace into lusty grooves piecing indulgent pulses from decadent connections. Sinfully kindling simmering opinions, Magic’s galactic disco gyrates in steamy catwalk sauntering.

Pantha du Prince and The Bell Laboratory - Elements of Light

Swimming images of Zen railroad crossings, Sunday churchyards and midnight clock-shops; electronic artist du Prince and Norwegian ensemble The Bell Laboratory embark on a symphonic odyssey exploring pure radiant tone against restless synthetics. Evocative hypnotics float, soak and coax as, “Light,” underscores translucent beauty, evolving organic trances while diving deep into beat-friendly meditations bolstered by ethereal ambience and subterranean splendor.

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