âNo Other Mindâ is a soft-strummed single by Hildegard, the creative collaboration between artists Ouri and Helena Deland. It was released on December 2, 2024.
Both have such sweet voices that could cradle a tired brain to sleep. Interspersed in the background is the twinkle of a harp and flushes of powdery white noise. It’s tender like a wind-whipped face, or a kitten kiss (lots of those this season). In the midst of this frigid finals week, my nervous system has been gratefully sipping on it.
The lyrics are sincere in their warmth:
âNo other mind can ever be found instead of mine /
Something our young life cannot deny us /
Every morning brings us back and we trust it every time.â
Rather than a lover, this song quite reminds me of my dearest friends. I hear them upstairs right now, exasperated and laughing, as girls often are.
There is this ebb and flow humans have picked up on (that even the instrumental of the song seems to follow) of those lives that are intertwined with our own. Even in a state of disconnect, it seems more and more like connection can never be severed, as long as memory persists.
The song is a part of Hildegard’s most recent album, âJour 1596.â
It was named for the 1596 days it took for the project to be completed. Like much of Deland and Ouri’s work, it’s gentle and free-flowing. I’d recommend it for this frazzled period of time, especially if you’re pulling your hair out over this last battle before break.
Qendresa is an R&B and neo-soul artist from London bringing back the 90âs sound like itâs her job.
She released her second album âLondra,â co-produced by Jordan Lee, on November 28. It’s made up of nine gooey tracks that set the clock back about 30 years.
The first track on âLondraâ is one of my favorites from Qendresa, called â2 Much.â Her voice is ribbons of butterscotch as she sings about complicated exchanges with a lover. Even though the lyrics detail an emotional spot to be in, something about her voice sounds like she’s been there for too long: âNo I don’t wanna sabotage myself / You know them demons wanna get inside / And every toke is just an ask for help / Every tear is just a blessing in disguise.â I think I like it so much because it’s a sweet coming-to-terms wrapped up in funky treacle riffs. Perfect for overthinking in the after-hours.
âSweet Liesâ is another song about longing, but it makes you want to move. It immediately takes you in again with the sticky syrupy riffs, just at a faster tempo than â2 Much.â Qendresa and Lee are good at adding modern electronic embellishments throughout their trips back in time, striking this gorgeous balance between decades.
The fourth song on âLondraâ is a hip-hop/soul throwback called âThe Bounce.â Qendresa doesn’t seem to use many samples, so it’s really fun to see how she recreates integral elements of 90’s hip-hop songs with her own voice. I will admit, I don’t like this one as much as I do the others, but I can still appreciate how she retains her sound while doing something different.
The last track on the album is âWhenever You’re Ready,â a sedate winding-down. It’s smooth in a more atmospheric way, relying on slow strums, layered vocals, and lots and lots of reverb (and that blessed shaker). This one specifically sounds like it belongs in a scene from âGirlfriends.â
âLondraâ is a unique sophomore project from Qendresa, who is very steadily building a concrete body of work. Her style is a warm tribute that I don’t really hear in other placesâbarring samples and re-works of pre-existing tracks, because there is no shortage of thoseâso it’s exciting to see how she fleshes out her inspiration throughout her new releases.
I’m not entirely convinced that TanerĂŠlle isn’t a celestial being from a far-away Afrofuturist utopia. She brings to Earth her intergalactic take on R&B and neo soul in her newest album, “Electric Honey (Encore).”
The album features some beautiful artists like Machinedrum, who specializes in elegant breakbeat and IDM, and Sabrina Claudio, who has got the sense for sensuality on lock. Drawing from both worlds is something TanerĂŠlle does often, so they seem like perfect collaborators for her vision.
I actually first heard TanerĂŠlle on a Machinedrum track two years ago, called “Star,” and was transfixed. Spellbound. Bewitched. Her voice is like a thick silk velvet against the track’s delicate ambience, and there’s no shortage of that feel in “Electric Honey.”
The first track on the album is “For Her (Chemtrails),” featuring Machinedrum and IMANU. The very first synths sound Ark Patrol-adjacent (an IMANU staple), setting the stage for a lighter dance track that burns out like a blown-out birthday candle: we’re left with the kiss of smoke from its wick.
One of my favorite tracks on this album is “Let Me In – Cosmic Orchestra Ver.,” where TanerĂŠlle takes a standard R&B melody and makes a spectacle of it. The strings are utter drama as she begs a lover to let her in: “Under your skin / Yearning for softness / No need for caution / I’ll be your saint.”
The grandiosity continues with the album’s title track, “Electric Honey.” It’s more of an interlude, bridging the gap between the longing of the orchestral version of “Let Me In” and the neo-soul-voltage of “Blink.”
A final favorite of mine from this album is “Overflow.” It starts off more somber than the others and is at points, more IDM than R&B. At others, it’s sacral like a call through a cavern, accompanied by sober clarity in the lyrics:
I close my eyes as I spy for relief
I sneak away in the night while you sleep
I beg the sky for some love and some peace
And a forever, one for you and one for me
But there’s never getting what you want
It’s an all-too-familiar surrender to truth, after trying to deny that something once complete has since succumbed to decay. I think the track does well the weird back-and-forth between the lightness from relief, and the weight of memory in those moments of realization.
Overall, I think “Electric Honey (Encore)” is a sweet little release with some versatility; I could both dance and cry to some of the songs, depending on the day. It’s slightly experimental, but it remains in the realm of easy listening.
For nearly three years, he’s been a veritable ghost within the music scene, spending his time on an “eat-pray-love” adjacent journey stretching from Europe to Thailand following a nearly career-ending injury while touring with Willie Nelson’s Outlaw Festival.
Sturgill Simpson may have taken his bow, but Johnny Blue Skies follows strongly in his wake.
Thee Sacred Souls has got a story to tell in their new album, one with tales of self love, longing, sorrow and gratitude.
âGot A Story To Tellâ is Thee Sacred Souls’ second album, released on Oct 4, 2024. The band’s work has a distinctly aged sound despite coming together in 2019: other than the beautiful mixing and production, it’s like heartfelt memories and family heirlooms made into song.
Here are some of my favorites.
The very first (and possibly my favorite) track on the album is âLucid Girl,â a song about a girl choosing to traverse life on her own, and being content with it. It’s equally soft and triumphant, and a celebration of such a fundamental revelation.
Josh Lane, the bandâs vocalist, does it justice with a hint of a smile in his voice; I canât help but do the same as I think of my closest female friendships and our collective exploration of our time here together.
The next track on the album is âPrice Iâll Pay,â which takes the perspective of a character willing to put the work in for love. Itâs a refreshing take on a love that works, bringing to mind songs like âRide or Dieâ by Durand Jones & The Indications. Lane sings like melted butter, with catchy little breaks in between.
Another track I really love off of âGot A Story To Tellâ is âMy Heart is Drowning.â Itâs slower and a little more tart on the tongue than the others. The lyrics are tainted with regret as Lane sings, âWith the power of the sea / Your absence washes over me.â
According to the band, their two inspirations for this track were Jamaican rocksteady and 60s girl-group pop. Somehow, both sounds combined to make me feel like something of a heartbroken cowboy, but I have no complaints.
The very last track on the album is called âIâm So Glad I Found You, Baby,â inspiring the sweet feeling of coming home. Itâs a Sunday morning song to my ears, something to sip on coffee and window-filtered sunlight to. The track is a lovely note to end on, with the same gentle jubilation as âLucid Girl.â
âGot A Story To Tellâ is a truly beautiful addition to Thee Sacred Soulsâ discography. I donât typically consider myself an âalbum person,â but this one is definitely one I can listen to the whole way through; I can tell itâll be an autumn favorite of mine this year.
A sin perhaps more grievous than my admission of being a fan of The Garden is that I’ve waited almost a month to sit down and consume their latest singles.
The Garden, an experimental (that’s one way to put it) rock band hailing from Orange County, defines itself with punk-infused, eclectic sounds that continually push the bounds of genre, a concept the band refers to as “Vada Vada,” the name of the “universe” in which all The Garden tracks diegetically exist.
The band got its start in 2013 with the debut album “The Life and Times of a Paperclip,” and has continued to develop its sound since, gaining massive popularity — and some infamy — in the alternative scene.
Cover for “Mirror Might Steal Your Charm” by The Garden
Although labeled by many as a “TikTok music,” The Garden’s work has great artistic merit. Earlier releases like “Call This # Now” and “đ” (from the album “Mirror Might Steal Your Charm“) are instrumentally and aesthetically robust, towing the line between garage punk and straight-up avant-garde.
While The Garden has played with various flavors of “strange punk music,” their most recent album, “Horsesh– On Route 66” represented what I consider to be an archetypal “The Garden style,” laden with bizarre soundbytes, silly sound effects and grunge-tinged vocals.
Cover for “Horsesh– on Route 66” by The Garden
I’ll be honest: after soaking in the release of “Route 66,” I wondered if The Garden had already reached the extent of its capabilities. The Shears brothers’s respective side projects, Puzzle and Enjoy, were comparatively more prolific than The Garden. I wouldn’t have been surprised if The Garden announced a split after the completion of their “Route 66” tour.
Thus, it was a great surprise when the band dropped two singles — teasers for another album titled “Six Desperate Ballads” — within a few months of each other.
“Filthy Rabbit Hole”
Probably the closest The Garden has gotten thus far to capturing the classic punk sounds of the 80s, “Filthy Rabbit Hole” is laden with vigorous, distorted guitar.
The California-tinged vocals of Wyatt Shears ground the track in nostalgic, almost beachy garage-rock and the simple and repetitive lyrics — “I’m blacked out/ I’m back down” — are fun and rhythmic. While not a particularly “inspired” song, it’s got a catchy and danceable beat.
“Ballet”
My favorite of the two releases, “Ballet” is something of a club anthem: electronic, upbeat and hypnotically syncopated.
Vocal duties shift between Wyatt and Fletcher, with various soundbytes woven throughout. While “Ballet” and “Filthy Rabbit Hole” differ drastically in style, they have complementary elements — a similarly gritty, grunge-filtered quality — that makes them work. I’m interested in seeing where these two tracks fit in the full album.
Yukimi Nagano for the cover of her new single "Break Me Down."
Yukimi Nagano, best known as part of the experimental indietronica/R&B gorgeousness that is Little Dragon, released a track called âBreak Me Downâ on October 9, 2024. I love Yukimi Nagano (my car is named after the woman), so I’m pretty thrilled about it.
It has the same quirky blazing synths and piano notes Little Dragon unique to Little Dragon’s sound, but it’s just the slightest bit edgierâthe track almost reminds me of something off of Jim James’ âEternally Even.â
âBreak Me Downâ is sweet and triumphant like a revelation of capability, as Nagano sings, â[E]very day I’m reborn like a new reveal.â Another line, â[E]very day that I wake and I let in love / And I hope that you know my heart’s enough,â is something to be written on a sticky note, posted on a bathroom mirror to see in the mornings.
I will admit I’m not as intrigued by it as I am with some of Little Dragon’s other work, like âRushâ or âThe Other Lover,â featuring Moses Sumney — for context, Little Dragon often has off-the-wall elements that make their songs peculiar at first listen, and completely charming by the third — but maybe Nagano’s simpler approach to her solo debut has a purpose as something foundational. Her voice is still as beautiful and summery as ever, and the track is sunny; I’m excited to see the direction she takes on her own.
I’ll be honest: I haven’t been doing a great job scoping out new music. As I wade deeper into what will hopefully be my final year of undergrad, I find comfort in returning to the classics and playing the same three songs by The Smiths over and over again just to feel something.
I’ve managed to drag myself away from “Hatful of Hollow” long enough to compose an assortment of sick new releases by various much-beloved artists to kick off the start of the fall season.
“Infinite Fear Jets” by IAMX
Formerly of the acid-tinged cool kids band Sneaker Pimps, Chris Corner’s newest release continues to push IAMX in a vivid new direction.
“Infinite Fear Jets” maintains the moody seduction typical of an IAMX track, but Corner leans heavily into mesmerizing electronic beats infused with r&b rhythm. The track’s bright and gyrating, landing closer to pop than darkwave on the musical spectrum.
Cover for “Fault Lines²” by IAMX
I totally dig this release. It’s got the kind of energy that pulls you in and leaves you to revel in an expanse of fun and danceable music, and Corner’s penchant for experimentation and the evocation of intense moods really shines through.
“Something is Wrong” by Melted Bodies
Grungy, nu-metal-ly and purely raucous, “Something is Wrong” is a track infused with foreboding, angst and absolutely sick guitar.
I’ve always been intrigued by the incongruous and eccentric sounds of Melted Bodies, and “Something is Wrong” proves to be just that — incongruous and eccentric; a song in multiple acts, weaving in and out of genres with seamless precision. And that guitar — chainsaw-sweet and growling like a wild animal — ties it all together.
“Kiltro” by Kiltro
There’s always an undercurrent of sadness in the music of Denver-based alt folk band Kiltro. The reverberating acoustic quality of their music is rivaled only by the work of vocalist Chris Bowers Castillo, whose lyricism weaves together a brilliant musical tapestry.
Cover for “Kiltro” by Kiltro
“Kiltro,” though written before Kiltro’s inception, captures the core essence of the band. An homage to Castillo’s hometown, the song is tinged with nostalgia so intense it hurts, conveyed so beautifully there are few words to truly capture its impact.
August 15, 2024, he performed the song on COLORS, a well-known music platform in the soul and R&B scene… and it was breathtaking.
Montell Fish, real name Montell Frazier, is known primarily as a Christian artist. He draws inspiration heavily from his faith when creating music, his pure devotion phrased like lyrics of a love ballad. Songs like âCrumble,â whose lyrics are doting and unshakeable in their disposition, are ones I love even as someone who ascribes to a different faith.
âDon’t You Love Me?â is another beast entirely.
The chorus wastes no time, coming in desperate and swinging before anything else can take stage. The lyrics have a hint of something wavering, and Frazier’s voice tells me he’s on his knees:
“Know I get crazy / But don’t you love me anyway? /
And I know I frustrate you / But don’t you love me anyway?”
Like most of the music I love the most, this track found me at the perfect time.
Truthfully, that’s probably why I find it so moving: communication in my own relationship with the Divine exists substantially through sound.
So to come across a song that captures a familiar struggle so eloquently is truly special, especially if it’s not authored by someone with the same beliefs.
Also like many of the songs I hold closest to my heart, âDon’t You Love Me?â is relatively uncomplicated and somewhat repetitive, only breaking the prayer for a bridge in between; the devotion is apparent, however unadorned the track may sound.
After I’ve had it on loop for an hour or two, the song becomes a chant, of despair, of fear, and of faith in something unknown, but only because there is nowhere else to go.
Cover for "Marie / Chronicles of a needful being" by Theatre's Kiss
German darkwave artist Theatre’s Kiss has once again cultivated an astoundingly gothic post-punk album. Let’s talk about it.
An Artificer of Atmosphere
Since I first stumbled upon Theatre’s Kiss in 2020, I’ve remained entranced by their atmospheric melancholia.
Everything about the musical project is intentional, from its black metal-inspired aesthesis to its esoteric lyricism. While separate albums retain a distinct “vibe,” there’s a characteristic Theatre’s Kiss flair throughout — a flair for the enigmatic, emotional and elaborate.
Logo for the artist Theatre’s Kiss
“It’s all about atmosphere,” is the artist’s adage. “Nothing else matters.”
It’s clear that the project, headed by the corpse-painted Fassse Lua, comes from the heart. And its newest installment is no exception.
Suppress Your Memories
“Marie / Chronicles of a needful being,” is the official second chapter of the Theater’s Kiss musical universe and, according to Fassse Lua, a passion project.
Described as a tribute to The Cure — specifically the album “Faith” — “Marie” is about “the fear of being alone and dealing with yourself.”
The story of “Marie,” a character teased in the March EP “II,” is that of a girl’s descent into addiction.
“From that moment on,” Fassse Lua says in an Instagram post, “there’s no turning back. In her addiction, she longs for the moments that allow her to forget everything.”
This idea comes to the forefront with the album’s first track, “Fluch,” or “Curse.”
Into the day Masquerade mode on Routines that push me into…
Inhale the death
Supress your memories Embrace the agony
“Fluch” by Theatre’s Kiss
What I find interesting about this release, as opposed to albums like “Self-Titled” and “Liedensmeloiden,” is the volume of information presented to the audience.
I’ve always been intrigued by the mysterious and borderline-elusive nature of Fassse-Lua, the unnamed — and basically un-faced — progenitor of such trancingly woeful beats.
For the most part, the audience is expected to infer the meaning behind various tracks.
For “Marie,” however, we’re granted not just context, but a storyline. And for me, that completely transforms the listening experience.
Endless Sorrow
Constructed so as to give the impression of a single, continuous song, “Marie” represents a waxxing and waning of misery as the album’s titular character struggles to reconcile with her declining mental health.
Some tracks are moody, laden with drums and despondent strings (“Pillows of Repression”) while others are light and airy, reminiscent of the soft sadness seen in “Self-Titled” (“Numb”).
The more prevalent use of drums also gives the album a distinct post-punk edge, as opposed to the darkwave vibes of earlier projects.
Reading through each song’s lyrics adds another layer of intrigue. For example, we learn in “Peer Pressure” that it was Marie’s romantic partner who served as her entrypoint into drug use.
Our first try ruined everything
We gave up on ourselves We thought of nobody else What we had in common was the painful urge
“Peer Pressure” by Theatre’s Kiss
There’s simply so much to talk about with this album. To avoid writing a dissertation, I’ll finish with an assessment of my favorite track off the album: “Deceased Dreams.”
Alternating between jangly, ethereal energy and the utterly dour, “Deceased Dreams” represents the sudden crush of hard-hitting reality. But rather than deliver a barrage of punches, it presents an esoteric dance.
What I really love about this track is its sudden deluge into German — the first instance of its kind across the span of Theatre’s Kiss — and the perfectly sweet vocals of Fassse Lua to go along with it.
Final Thoughts
While I’m not sure “Marie” is my favorite project by Theatre’s Kiss, it’s certainly the most interesting.
The album’s development of a diegesis through lyricism and imagery is exciting in a way not many artists can deliver.
I find myself playing detective, piecing together bits of information to try and uncover the bigger picture. Perhaps that was Lua’s intention, or perhaps the true enigma of “Marie” comes from its personal roots.
Either way, I look forward to traversing more of this lyrical world.
