Slipped Discs

Black Marble - Bigger Than Life

Gated patience locked into timetable cadence, “Bigger,” triggers heavy-lidded dance-floor daydreams, perpetual engines plugged into unquenchable ping-pong palpitations and tugging at subtle pulses while sleepy, hourglass passages practicing well-honed digital diplomacy flows around bittersweet sequined séances. Vacuum-sealed cart-wheel architect, Black Marble harbors suave charms inside sullen futurepop lullabies lost in synth-rinsed labyrinths cast in chattering patterns tailor-made for form-fitting glitter.

Rachael Dadd - Flux

Beautiful nightingale chamber-folk unfurling quicksilver rhythms with nimble art-pop visions and jazz casual accuracy in banjo-driven sophistication, Dadd’s compound rounds, slippery jigs and ballerina boogie delight in bright, diaphanous dialectics. Glowing vocals, klezmer clarinet and winged strings, “Flux,” flutters in butterfly landings, crackling campfires and rippling creeks, noble and focused opuses whose persuasive sway resolves knotted logic with dashing ingenuity.

Coma - Voyage Voyage

Chill, switched-on click-pop bobs in grand clandestine fanfare, steering a gleaming cyber-scenic, “Voyage Voyage,” past startled heartbeats, aching souls and brazen brain-waves with medicated raves skating on slinky morning-after haze. Modern transistorized romantics COMA sprinkles passive dazzle over famished trance, pl

Itasca - Spring

Country harvests rich in restless cleansing, rainy-day engagements grazing in fence-mending splendor, Itasca navigates intimate sympathies beneath exquisite six-string inquisitions framed by humble strums and subtle flash. Brisk trills and crisp fills decorate, “Spring,” spinning sad bittersweet ballads washed in centerless tempos, mournful chords and sagebrush twang; laundered quandaries folding close-quarter encouragements into fragile folk gossamer hung from box-canyon bridges.

Majjin Boo - Go Between

Jet-fueled power-pop dropping top-of-the-lungs math-rock onto weighty emotional cave-ins from bolstered reflex-injected explosions, Majjin Boo wrestle bereft regrets with heft and sweat; swift and dominant stalkers seeking chain lightning among machine-gun thunder. Trampoline fiends trading laser riffs fitted into start-stop blockbusters, “Between,” turn on the high beams careening over tire-squealing prog whose cruise-missile epistles launch conscious taunts for razor-sharp romps.

Sean Henry - A Jump From The High Dive

Cock-eyed sardonic rock stocked in slacker melodramatics, “Dive,” rides millennial divides slinging six-pack garage-pop against surf-punk smugness and indie-jangle sunshine. Free-wheeling chameleons Sean Henry display different faces with flippant simplicity and clever leveraged whimsy, softly mocking catchy affections with cheeky rhymes and bouncy renouncement; frivolous pillaging skillfully wielding wicked wit in sick jams digging ironic self-acknowledgment with savvy savage craftsmanship.

Rachel Grimes - The Way Forth

A theatrical time capsule capturing prairie arias, settler soliloquies and rural ruminations; Grimes’ divine Folk Opera offers documentary memories examining Manifest Destiny while Western Expansion dances among minstrel shows and letters home. Multiple view points from bandshell barkers to second-generation perspectives carry, “Forth,” through heavenly choirs and biographical fragments, glorious story-telling orchestras weaving hoe-downs, sojourns and history into reverent evidence.

Hurt Valley - Glacial Pace

Good-natured scoundrels, shaggy string-band brethren Hurt Valley leads ghost-town honky-tonk from pioneer cheer to hobo emo, thick with braided guitar licks and starry minor-key harmonies. Rolling-hill road-trips through Zen-centered relationships conjuring intricate rest-stop rambles radiating stray bohemian dreams, “Pace,” grazes sunrise highways, kicking up dust with wagon-train refrains in urban cowboy cadence, washing waltzing folk-rock off-spring in heady riverbed sedatives.

Pedro Kastelijns - Som das Luzis

Zany mania tamed in psycho-samba soufflés, “Luzis,” muses in jarring cartoon lunacy, commanding gizmo-prone jabberwocky waking and shaking narcoleptic benders riding bold, dismembered tropical-pop dropped into rabbit-hole side-shows. Basted in booming bass, tasty bossa nova escapes and bouncy gaucho detours, psychedelic Brazilian Kastelijns’ lavender caverns spew groovy tunes fire-roasted and slightly singed, crispy fringe-art binges rattling cages and sparking imaginations.

Emily Yacina - Remember the Silver

Lived-in pop props Yacina’s sensible premonitions against deceptive mid-tempo affections connecting rhythm-driven perceptions to calm, collected, level-headed introspection and inviting kind candor inside systemic memories from smart hearts. Personal journeys turned into happening maps, “Silver,” fills unavoidable joys with better judgment assumptions sealing the deal in learning-curve verses and well-informed choruses customized in friendly empathy, attentive mentions and centered defenses.

Lee "Scratch" Perry - Heavy Rain

Rock-steady grooves moving beneath phantom chants, haunted harmonica and sad brass, “Rain,” rains, “Soldiers collecting souls,” and “Children of the Night,” over slippery redemption days blazing in faith served by curdling serpentine certainty. Karmic shaman Perry’s scrubbed dub companion to this year’s revelatory, “Rainford,” welcomes mothership liberations; baptized night-walker trance channeling blessed messages through loose, echo-chamber complacency and studio-proven juju.

Anna Nalick - The Blackest Crow

Guided by a well-tuned ear, intuitive chanteuse Nalick gathered an eclectic mix of Country, Folk, American Songbook and Britpop for a songsmith’s set-list that gifts craft alongside sincerity, celebrating timeless feelings captured in classic lyrics possessing posh, melodic competence. Backed by acoustic guitar, cello, upright bass and drums, “Crow,” flows in restrained arrangements beautifully supporting Anna’s supple, casually confident vocals.

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