Slipped Discs

Sex with Strangers - You Know Something We Don’t?

The impetuous head-rush rock caught, locked and brandished in, “Know,” glows in chrome-plated Romeos fashioning rabid slabs of carnal sparkle from savvy passions; a debonair affair fueled by jack-hammered glamour carving bullet-train refrains from tongue-wagging sagas. Drizzled in svelte velvet synths and seasoned with succulent scorn, Canada’s brazen Sex with Strangers unleash jaded New Wave engraved in shiny nightclub snubs.

Beaty Heart - Mixed Blessings

Magical catalysts mash jittery collisions brimming in African rhythms into clownish bounce embellished with Beach Boys harmonies; British magicians Beaty Heart spark jungle percussion tied to melodic knots for spongy rainbow lunges whose tangled tempos mold elastic catastrophes into groovy cartoon lunacy. Dreamy calliopes, whimsical kalimbas and manic chanting make, “Blessings,” a chattering prog-tropical masterpiece fit for feverish cantilevered demons.

Nikki Lane - All or Nothin’

Stoked in rogue rockabilly-folk and straight-talk country-pop, “All,” falls smack-dab between hard-bitten drifters smitten by smart, tart hearts and no-nonsense honky-tonk dressed to kill. Dan Auerbach’s bold, retro production booms and swoons in boot-scootin’ tunes tinged in vintage organ fills and lively laptop steel as romance wrangling Lane’s bruised moods deliver irresistible tips for extended stays at the Heartbreak Hotel. Nikki plays Madison’s High Noon Saloon June 16th.

Chappo - Future Former Self

A bubbling broth fostering blossoming optimism, Chappo’s swirling blue-eyed psychedelia sails over spring-loaded emotions slathered in curlicue grooves and refreshing crescendos. Coated in power-pop pastels and space-funk tastiness, “Self,” melts into smooth jubilant communion; moving through sneaky beats on tricked-out riffs, past brainy strains of dance-rock pizzazz and relaxed half-jazz for hip trips whipped into playful waves and splashy flashes.

Sharon Van Etten - Are We There

The patiently restrained and bewitchingly intimate sophistication exhibited with, “There,” wears its dawning longings, waking aches and compelling compulsions beneath a seething spirit bound and determined to find fulfillment through indie-folk hopes swaddled around chamber-rock promises. Possessing a deep dusky voice to administer her full-throttled melancholy, Van Etten’s sweeping needs and tireless desires relish delicate emptiness poised beneath bittersweet completion.

PAWS - Youth Culture Forever

Frank cantankerous angst from rambunctious punks whose brawling odysseys turn meaty hooks, mammoth jams and contagious outrage into harsh cathartic brilliance; Glasgow’s cavernous mavericks tunnel through thundering dungeons with heavy-handed candor capturing ravishing guitar-powered howls through raw, honest squalls churned in tactical smack-downs. Convincingly succinct, PAWS’ steely zeal propel, “Youth,” into non-conforming storms of jagged gonzo-pop and incorrigible, uproarious rock.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - Only Run

Dire diary-writing draped in mind-altering escapes, “Run,” funnels adamant battles from unraveling battalions into humane refrains, seething pleads and heartening pardons. Savory synth-blues bravery caked in dream-pop decay and alt-rock camaraderie; the band’s solid apologist and heroic motivator Alec Ounsworth masterminds a dynamic stamina fortifying resolve as it exposes our most vulnerable sides. CYHSY play Madison’s Majestic Theater June 12th.

Meshell Ndegeocello - Comet, Come To Me

Melted stealth poured over trickling riffs; Ndegeocello’s tasteful, playful forays into cozy soul, regal reggae and magical jazz conjure microcosmic blossoms inside pristine improvisations for celestial struts cast in smoky vocals and frisky apparitions carved from cyber-funky jams. Delicate senses tinted in textured menace, “Comet,” slinks, sinks and out-thinks buffed lust and supple mistrust; delicious mischief from exquisite art-pop pixels.

Secret Cities - Walk Me Home

A coy and cunning hodge-podge, “Home,” hones vaudeville operas erecting stage-setting testaments; heavenly indie-rock jaunts flaunting haunting music-hall gestalt. Breezy twee conceived as palatial chamber-pop doo-wop unrolls golden hand-holding emotions stitching Pollyanna stomps onto friendly melodies, flighty choirs and ambient tantrums. Living separate lives, Secret Cities’ combined stylistic finds produce swooning unity buoyed by time-traveling swan-songs bottled in spectral vessels.

Miniature Tigers - Cruel Runnings

The light fluffy buzz inherent in Miniature Tigers’ synthesized dollops of summer-time power-pop trigger snickering predictions from romantic grifters; slippery dilettantes cultivating sly, shy conceits through cheeky star-spangled jangle garnished in varnished harmonies, pining ironies and subversive mirth. Schooled in bright-colored cool, “Cruel,” balances bashful nostalgia beside smarmy charm; hunting love’s wily smiles while juggling smug bop and irrepressible zest. Be sure to check out the band when they play Madison’s The Frequency July 22nd.

Kan Wakan - Moving On

Soft gloss, sumptuous gumption and lavish dazzle glide through shellacked chromatics as the tenderly coddled and runway-modeled, “Moving,” beautifully fumes, discretely feasts and casually fathoms panoramic fantasies. Epic pledges sprinkled in sinister grit; jazz-addled lounge lizards drizzle soul-sister kisses over super-sleuth movies leaving, Kan Wakan’s brassy, sassy orchestration snuggled beneath poised chords breathing cinematic passions into chiffon trip-hop symphonics.

Alexander Turnquist - Flying Fantasy

Twelve-string inspirations arranged around classical instruments and modern electronics; master guitarist Turnquist composes sparkling armor whose tight-knit bliss calm and excite, curious flurries that circle and take flight. Stirring churning murmurs, “Fantasy,” gallantly dallies; Zen engines bending and blending into dappled catacombs; mystical, cyclical hives buzzing in resounding rounds, doused in quivering rhythms and plucked like weeds from still-water dreams.

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