Slipped Discs

Palehound - Black Friday

United in jaunty indie-pop conjugation and earnest, burgeoning soul-searching, Palehound’s multi-tasking aspirations connect reflective second-guesses to thirsty curiosity where timid self-image tends tender envy with verbal caresses redressing fleshy blessings. Demonstrable confidence celebrating fragile valor through visceral descriptions hip to shared joys, the tangibly candid, “Friday,”  transforms humble, home-demo authenticity into sophisticated engagements balancing patient postmortem refrains alongside full-bodied rebuttals.

Imperial Teen - Now We Are Timeless

Concept-pop fraught in frosted power-chords, cautious providence and brokered commotion, “Timeless,” blinds with radiant New Wave cravings wound around sultry, sugar-coated irony; sinister minor-key majesty painted in aloof brooding and kaleidoscopic bop. Princely resistance weathering post-modern regrets, Imperial Teen’s smug rug-cutters reach near-boils to ratchet passions into seething teases cooled by smooth well-oiled grooves then reheated into steamy paperback dramatics.

Julio Nickels - Feeling Fickle

Deadpan sanity laid over digital glitter, Nickels dips dystopian hopes into eclectic sound events; percolating havens harboring freedom-seeking frequencies alongside disembodied observations. Passive existential happenings suggesting fence-sitting lessons, the slow and steady, “Fickle,” builds post-rock whispers from timid wizardry into royal stories patched with faded twang and masterful crackle, centerless methods yielding tenuous collections infusing genuine tension with abandoned vengeance.

Jesca Hoop - Stonechild

Traipsing in thorny fields with lantern-lit lyrics peering into family histories, “Stonechild,” rides rustic percussion over choral swarms with dainty language framing prancing enchantments and Arcadian chamber-pop cascades trotting past fascinating pagan parades. Electro-acoustic dreaminess decorates spirited philosophical operas while Hoop swoops in bewitching chills and prog-folk thrills, cross-stitching tranquil fables from mischievous melodies bending sensitive menace around maternal concerns.

Joanna Sternberg - Then I Try Some More

Wonder and innocence surrounds Sternberg’s deceptively simple wisdom. Articulate, level-headed folk holding honest hearts to a pure light, their rare clarity warmly embraces piano-parlor harmonies and front-porch choruses. Minimal instruments bring twinkling whimsy, devotional emotions and authentic tenderness to the precious, “More,” whose unadorned charms feeds sincere needs, encouraging fair human communication and providing fearless focus in a distracting world.

Bleached - Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough

Defiant irony twisting old-school crate-digging into cheeky wordplay, bratty challenges and revved interrogations, “Enough,” stuffs sleek struts, switchblade raves and California daydreams inside curt verse, short-fuse grooves and shook hooks. Churning out fully formed ear-worms storming beat-seized brains, party-crashing Bleached seeks reckless connections between indie-rock assaults and punk-pop perfection with flirtatious verve and flashy bombast re-mastered into exquisite day-glo retro.

Moonsign - Okay You First

Idiosyncratic dispatches scattered among huggable house, organic shape-shifting refrains and optimistic bridges, Moonsign’s symphonic flocks dot percussive pre-dawn clusters enveloping soft synth-pop centers. Compassionate sci-fi ballads and epic odes to growth hold ecological and interpersonal implications, giving, “First,” a fistful of hopeful musical utopias cradled in faith, lined with calm ethereal choruses while placid interstellar harmonies announce vigilant wind-tossed prophecies.

Ainslie Wills - All You Have Is All You Need

Savvy ballads powered by subtly tumultuous sophistication, “Need,” sneaks fleeting details into tender heart-wrenching chemistry, taming multiple hungers through rich, empathetic vocals and smart, spirited lyrics, driving heartbeat percussion and lofty chamber-pop arrangements. Blessed in expressive restlessness, Wills builds teasing intrigue from intimate simplicity with grand candle-lit piano and head-spinning synths bursting into thirsty dance-floor grooves from lush, hypnotic solace.

Marika Hackman - Any Human Friends

Brawny, chameleonic pop asserting strong-worded verse into sultry declarations, Hackmann back-hands the establishment expressing diabolical gender politics whose smooth moves hide hard truths. Harmonies harboring cultivated barks dance beneath torch-song longing while cosmopolitan pondering flutters in overt flirting, turning, “Friends,” into frank, sweet menace colored in slow-burning funk; mutual-consent temptations bathed in tuneful ingenuity, coaxing emotional resonance from heady hallucinations.

Possible Humans - Everybody Split

Splintered six-string acrobatics barreling through estranged jangle as militant rhythms charge toward sordid destinations, “Split,” rips and sniffs garage-rock riffs with anxious disdain and scholarly mockery, terse head-first affronts by tough punks flexing jam-band flair. A churning whirling finely-tuned unit, Possible Humans scatter a basket packed in flashy influences, spicing up simmering opinions with live-wire pig-piles and rambling carny double-talk.

Electric Youth - Memory Emotion

Powder-puff purrs from silicon-chip mistresses and motion-sensitive sequences tweaked by studio-grooved gurus, Electric Youth pursues posh robotic blossoms plunged into plush narcoleptic luxury, curled vertigo inverted into moody, futuristic visions whizzing past opulent propositions. Slick, civilized seductions sprouting stainless angel-wings and soaring over palatial constructions, “Memory,” blends synthesized whimsy into uplifted artifice for voyeuristic insistence, tempting exemptions and sparkling exhibition.

Esther Rose - You Made It This Far

Genuine, sunny, quilting-bee dance-hall, “Far,” swings from mountain music to bayou folk peppered in Texas do-si-do doo-wop and rockin’ hillbilly twang; lazy Cajun fiddle whittling charming figures and Hawaiian slack adding to the effortless festivities. An old-school Grand Opry throwback, Rose goes for golden-throated nostalgia with clear rhymes, cantering cadence and classic heartbreak baptized in dandelion ear-candy and sisterly wisdom.

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