Pop 'stache

Even on its seventh album, Crushed Stars brings a refreshing spin to its signature indie pop. The group’s latest release, Farewell Young Lovers, is the musical equivalent of a calm, solitary, and utterly relaxing day at the beach. Most of the songs are gentle, soothing, and atmospheric, laid back but with a quiet energy.

Lead singer Todd Gautreau’s husky, crooning voice complements the soft, feel-good, indie-pop music that rolls in the background. Farewell Young Lovers is characterized by rich melodies, lush rhythms, and highly polished production.

“Poppies,” a bold, experimental instrumental track, is the most polished song on the album, and certainly stays true to its name; it could be the musical accompaniment to Dorothy’s drugged-out trip through the poppy field.

“Poppies” is a mishmash of soft, ambient soundscapes and vague, mystical, Eastern sounds all produced to perfection.

It might not be the most popular song, but it demonstrates that Crushed Stars has the caliber to push the musical boundaries.

While the album evokes a feel-good, relaxed tone, some of the songs ironically deal with heavy subject matter, especially “Haters” and “Flowerbomb.” “Haters” is, according to Gautreau, about “religious people” who are bigoted and hateful.

The fast tempo, syncopated drum beats, catchy guitar riff, and amazing, Nirvana-like chorus give the song a slightly harder edge that’s a pretty far cry from most of the album, especially following the tranquility of “Poppies.” Still, Gautreau navigates the harsh material by singing softly and passionately, not with blind anger.

Opening track “Flowerbomb” describes a double-edged sword of a woman, who’s sweet yet explosive. The hard, fast-moving drum beats and simple guitar chords are reminiscent of Sonic Youth. Though rooted in punk tendencies, “Flowerbomb” is still light and melodious enough to have a natural place on Farewell Young Lovers.

Farewell Young Lovers is a beautiful album that has set a high benchmark in today’s pop scene. Crushed Stars’ approach to music is simple: keep it gentle, melodic, and upbeat, even when the subject matter is quite dark. The band has been around for more than ten years, but its unique approach to blending electronica and indie pop is as successful as ever.

Crushed Stars does have a distinct style in every song, which becomes a minor flaw with repetition. Each track starts with instruments in the forefront while Gautreau sings in the background. His vocals sound distant and filtered, which is not a bad thing—it’s quite calming—but it becomes a little stale by the end of the album.

Nonetheless, these flaws are minimal. Farewell Young Lovers is the perfect antidote for stress, and its delicate, personal sound makes it an album not to be missed.

Crushed Stars – Farewell Young Lovers tracklist:

1. “Flowerbomb”
2. “Fantastic Birds”
3. “Our Interest In Claire”
4. “This Happens Every Time”
5. “Fly”
6. “Poppies”
7. “Haters”
8. “Supernova”
9. “Crocodiles”

It’s always unfortunate when a band has skill, but is unable to reach its full potential due to lack of press. For most, this leads to a short-lived career with little success, but in the case of the Nashville indie electro-pop group Wild Cub, they’re getting a second chance.

Although the band received some attention following its 2012 debut LP Youth, even snagging the title of one of the “12 Acts To Watch” at the 2012 CMJ Music Marathon, the album had a small independent release that somewhat impeded its potential for success.

Now, a little more than a year after its release, Youth is getting a proper re-release via Mom + Pop with two new bonus tracks, and it’s going to make some waves.

Wild Cub stirred up a lot of talk in the electro-pop scene with its spacey, intricate tracks. Having five members plays well in its favor, allowing for a fuller sound with more complex subtleties that complement Keegan DeWitt’s droning, mellow vocals.

It’s nice to see some fresh music getting attention in a typically cookie-cutter genre.

Much of the electro-pop scene sounds overused and repetitive, but Youth features some great instrumentals and quality songwriting.

Take Wild Cub’s popular single “Thunder Clatter,” which features a bouncy guitar riff and sincere lyrics about the love of DeWitt’s life. Set to a playful melody, he sings of a woman who catches his eye, “I hear it all in the center of my heart/You’re the love of my life.”

Just like every track on Youth, it is a danceable, funky song that would fit right in at a party or club. What sets the album apart, though, is the group’s masterful balance between fun, energetic elements and lots of experimentation that makes the music enjoyable in a quieter setting as well.

Though “Thunder Clatter” is the most popular song on Youth, it’s nowhere near the best. While most of the album sticks safely to that same buoyant atmosphere, there are occasions when Wild Cub strays away from it, and the outcome is always preferable.

“Hidden In The Night” is a bit softer, but still has an upbeat feel; it sounds like it should be the soundtrack to a steamy make out scene in an ’80s movie. This is by far one of the best tracks on the record, mainly due to the killer guitar riff and incredible solo—features that are somewhat muted on the rest of the album.

On “Hidden In The Night,” the groovy guitar work is at the forefront, which is one of the big sellers for this album, seeing as most electro-pop is heavy on the electronic instruments. But even on tracks where the guitar is less prominent, it noticeably raises the caliber of the music.

Other notable tracks include the elaborate “Straight No Turns;” the solemn, violin-heavy “Streetlights;” and the dreamy ballad “The Water,” all of which see Wild Cub pulling slightly away from its characteristic party sound.

Both of the bonus tracks are worthy of attention as well, channeling the same energy that drives the rest of the album, but tweaking it to show off more songwriting chops.

And since they were written after the album’s initial release, they are a good indication of what Wild Cub will sound like in the years to come.

“Blacktide” is passionate and bold, showcasing some of DeWitt’s new, more vivacious vocal approach, while “Lies” is relentlessly fast from the start, bringing some life to the increasingly sedated end of the album.

While Youth is good for what it is, it needs to be taken with a grain of salt. It’s hard to come across groundbreaking material in the electro-pop genre, which is mainly intended to entertain and play as background music for parties, but Youth is a solid album when you take this into account.

Based on the new bonus tracks, Wild Cub will only get better from here on out. Let’s hope this re-release gives the band the boost it needs to keep the party going.

Wild Cub – Youth tracklist:

1. “Shapeless”
2. “Color”
3. “Thunder Clatter”
4. “Straight No Turns”
5. “Wishing Well”
6. “The Water”
7. “Drive”
8. “Hidden In The Night”
9. “Jonti”
10. “Wild Light”
11. “Summer Fires / Hidden Spells”
12. “Streetlights”
13. “Windows”
14. “Blacktide”
15. “Lies”

Sounds of a crowded bar melting into hypnotizing dance pop kick off “Winter ’98,” the opening track of CYMBALS’ latest album, The Age of Fracture.

The London foursome’s new-age disco sound takes on a literary, outward-looking approach, revealing an intelligence comparable to Of Montreal, and a European sophistication lacking in its often spoiled and childish previous albums. Jack, Neal, Dan, and Luke are not the “badly rehearsed joke band” they were in 2011.

The title is derived from the award-winning book of the same name by Daniel T. Rodgers.

Singer and guitarist Jack Cleverly told British music site Broadway World, “It hit me that I often feel paralyzed by the feeling that everything is ‘too complicated,’ and that many people I know feel that paralysis. I realized that this way of thinking can be traced through these songs.”

This sense of stagnation is evident throughout the album, and it’s clear that the band is grappling with something larger than itself.

CYMBALS was inspired by Rodgers’ exploration of the late-20th century shaking of collective purposes and meanings that had provided a sense of social cohesion and consistency: citizenship, gender and racial identities, economic structures, and more. It’s heavy context for a very fun album.

Swirling over a gyre of electronics, “The 5%” makes the most direct references to Rodgers’ The Age of Fracture, declaring, “Time can be erased, you’re stupid if you try and stay in place.”

Produced by Dreamtrak (Hot Chip, Swim Deep), The Age of Fracture is largely in English with smatterings of Cleverly’s native French. Vocals throughout the album range from penetrating to airy, floating along with the rest of the music.

It features gritty, dance-worthy singles like “The Natural World” that push the six, seven, and nine-minute marks, including “Like an Animal,” CYMBALS’ ode to house music, with its sexy guitar riff and cool, upbeat disco. Short but sweet, “The Fracture of Age” is a brief instrumental interlude clocking in at nearly two minutes, a reprieve from the long, intense tracks that comprise the album.

The penultimate track, “The End,” rocks a synth line that belongs to an ’80s runway caricature; its smooth, French lyrics could easily be replaced by an onlooker shouting, “Work it, girl!”

This is in stark contrast to synth-led, brooding, dirge-like tunes like “This City” and the closing track “Call Me,” which is notable for its doleful bass line. The album concludes by collapsing and fragmenting into silence.

No longer self-centered, CYMBALS is exploring big ideas with beautiful, dance floor-ready electro-pop and indie disco. Bright, clean, and complex, The Age of Fracture is a breath of fresh air.

CYMBALS – The Age of Fracture tracklist:

1. “Winter ’98”
2. “The Natural World”
3. “You Are”
4. “Empty Space”
5. “The 5%”
6. “The Fracture of Age”
7. “Like an Animal”
8. “Erosion”
9. “This City”
10. “The End”
11. “Call Me”

With its sophomore album, Mind Over Matter, Southern California indie rock band Young the Giant has come a long way since its hit single, “My Body,” was featured in a Michelob Ultra commercial.

Singer Sameer Gadhia, guitarists Jacob Tilley and Eric Cannata, bassist Payam Doostzadeh, and drummer François Comtois are at it again with the follow-up to their 2010 eponymous album.

Mind Over Matter isn’t just 13 slightly altered versions of the group’s other chart-chopper, “Cough Syrup,” but a matured, orchestral variation on its nuanced, anthemic indie rock theme.

Producer Justin Meldal-Johnsen’s influence is evident in Mind Over Matter, which often takes on an atmospheric, synthesized sound reminiscent of M83. The dramatic, instrumental opening track, “Slow Dive,” sounds like it was cut out of a film score, and immediately gives the impression that this is a better, smarter Young the Giant.

The diverse album demonstrates the group’s range, including everything from songs that sound like lullabies (“Firelight”), to bitter rock (“It’s About Time”), to fun and dancey tracks (“Eros”), to pure, unadulterated pop rock.

If any tracks reach the height of “My Body”‘s popularity, it’ll probably be the infectious single “Crystallized.”

Gadhia’s penetrating vocals call, “When the beat of my drum meets the beat of your heart, you know I couldn’t love any other, any other” with the passion of a lyrical Marlon Brando shouting, “Stella!” Synth-pop mingles with Young the Giant’s mainstay indie rock sound to create a track that is dying to be hummed all day. The songs remain anthems, but on Mind Over Matter, they’re personal as opposed to stadium-sized.

While title track “Mind Over Matter” has been released with a lyric video featuring live-painted watercolor cameos, it’s definitely only indicative that the best music comes on the rest of the album.

Standout “Firelight” is a simple, beautiful campfire song that soothes with harmonic guitar picking and subtle vocals. Ethereal and dancey album closer “Paralysis” is in the running with “Crystallized” thanks to its floating, choral quality and addictive beat.

This deeply personal album highlights the band’s struggle with self-doubt, with lyricism that has a poetic, literary quality. The title track’s chorus rings with the insecure but hopeful line, “And if the world don’t break, I’ll be shakin’ it/’Cause I’m a young man after all!/And when the seasons change, will you stand by me?”

Mode Moderne caught some attention with 2009’s Ghosts Emerging, an admirable approach to blending shoegaze backgrounds with a soft drone of a voice, creating a goth-lined treasure trove of cloudy-day-at-the-beach music.

Vocalist Philip Intile may certainly bring thoughts of Paul Banks, or even more so Ian Curtis; it’s that familiar croon flowing through Mode Moderne’s dream-pop soundscapes that makes its newest release so noticeable. The melancholy is there, sure, but it is married to a calm fortitude that comes forth on Occult Delight.

Occult Delight is an album for the initiated, but the beauty of it comes from its increased embellishment of all things gloom.

That embellishment—which can, and usually does, become the main detraction to an album like this by turning an album of discrete songs into one long blend of guitar fuzz and jangle—actually draws out the group’s dynamism.

Lead single “She, Untamed” is the best example of Mode Moderne at its peak, as a groovy rhythm section dances around darker timbres of guitar and melody.

Opener “Strangle the Shadows” belongs as effortlessly in an ’80s alternative discothèque as it does in an indie dive bar on Brooklyn’s Bedford Avenue, almost like a scuzzed-out version of Real Estate’s stellar 2011 single “It’s Real.”

Its vast expanses of reverb layered on top of a driving tempo underline the gloom and doom orated by Intile: “No god in the sky, no devil beneath the sea, can force you into things/Your shadow must live and die, suffer beneath its own heavy sky/And they call that love.”

Even sprightlier efforts like “Baby Bunny” work well, buttering the gloom with jumpier, aerated guitar and synth work.

For the most part, Occult Delight does a good job of interlacing aural confidence with disparaging lyricism—a worthy emulation of so many groups that Mode Moderne most certainly looks to as forefathers.

“Does he like me? Oh well. Does she like me? I can’t tell anymore,” Intile laments on “Come Sunrise,” one of many Smithian snippets from Occult Delight.

While the album is as expectedly dour as any goth, emo, or mid-2000s indie group trying to replicate Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures is expected to be, there’s an undercurrent of freshness to Occult Delight that will hopefully translate to more exposure for this standout Vancouver outfit.

Between despairingly wonderful lyricism and a deft hand at manipulating an already long established sound, Mode Moderne may very well be on to something here. Let’s just hope that everyone else notices.

Mode Moderne – Occult Delight tracklist:

1. “Strangle The Shadows”
2. “Grudges Crossed”
3. “Thieving Babies’ Breath”
4. “Severed Heads”
5. “She, Untamed”
6. “Occult Delight”
7. “Times Up”
8. “Unburden Yourself”
9. “Dirty Dream #3”
10. “Baby Bunny”
11. “Come Sunrise”
12. “Running Scared”

Though word of the current “emo-revival” has slowly clawed its way from the indie underground almost all the way to the top of the mainstream grapevine, it could be said that the real, honest comeback is being synthesized in the form of experimental and noise rock.

Records like Grass Is Green’s Vacation Vinny are solid testaments to this sentiment. Appropriately aggressive, distorted, and dissonant, the Boston four-piece presents a lo-fi and hook-encrusted package that keeps up the pace and guarantees interest for its full 30-minute duration.

Moments of Vacation Vinny document the band swinging fearlessly into dodgy spots rife with off-kilter, loose discordance.

In “I’m From Dot Too,” Grass Is Green clocks out for a brief respite about a quarter of the way through the record, indulging in a rhythm-driven pace frosted with disagreeing call and response guitars that implore you to bob along and cringe simultaneously.

The group succeeds in building sounds that encourage this type of counter-intuitive reaction at more than one interval on Vinny.

But, while this is a guitar-driven venture, the dark horse of the 10-track release may in fact be the bass (credited to both Devin McKnight and Michael Thomas), which accents the right corners of each progression and keeps the ball in play.

Somewhat ambiguous in tone, there is a willful feeling of catharsis in the band’s sound.

The way the fuzzy strings resolve themselves on “Big Dog Tee Shirt Birthday Weekend” is rewarding closure for a lyric like “you know you don’t have to lie to me/but I’ll miss your alibis,” with grit and a little bit of tenderness wrapped up in a you-can’t-hurt-me ribbon. Chord choices in tunes like “Disjoint” and “Tambo” employ an unhinged, punk element that feels channeled from early-’90s, sometimes-far-out-there, post-rock acts like Unwound.

Vocalist Andy Chervenak coaxes his throaty whisper-squawk to heights that are downright anthemic in “Sammy So-Sick,” the record’s opening and possibility most memorable track.

Certain stretches of sound are structurally reminiscent of Polvo’s Exploded Drawing in their rushing and accelerated tonality.

The band proves it can bare its teeth to reveal an almost The Jesus Lizard-level of pearly white intensity in the twangy clamor of some of its more cacophonous riffs. But at the same time, it juggles a capacity to filter the tumult somewhat, yielding a breezy and even pretty-sounding slackness in the songwriting. “B-Kind” exemplifies this with a relaxed vibe that rivals Pavement at its most lucid.

Grass Is Green manages to whet the appetite and achieve an admirable degree of infectiousness, all while knowing when to beg off a bit and not overstay its welcome.

The result is Vacation Vinny being accessible and enjoyable enough to likely garner some less weird-inclined, but open minded, ears and to shine a little light on Exploding In Sound Records, the DIY label responsible for the release. Those familiar with Ronson, the band’s 2012 full-length, will be pleased to explore this more focused and balanced effort that excels in remaining angular through and through.

Grass Is Green – Vacation Vinny tracklisting:

1. “Sammy So-Sick”
2. “Disjoint”
3. “Big Dog Tee Shirt Birthday Weekend”
4. “I’m From Dot Too”
5. “Scattering Ram”
6. “Spore”
7. “B-Kind”
8. “Another Song Called Supersoaker”
9. “Tambo”
10. “Vacation 2.0”

Although “emo” has been something of a dirty word in recent years, don’t let it deter you from checking out one of the best bands in the incredible emo-revival scene that’s currently at an all-time high.

We’re not talking of the ultra-whiney music that comes to mind with the word “emo”—no one wants to revive Hawthorne Heights—but rather bands like Balance and Composure, Foxing, or in this case, the prodigious Orlando band You Blew It!, which will blow listeners’ expectations out of the water.

Though the band toned down a bit with it’s second full-length, Keep Doing What You’re Doing, You Blew It! carries the same passionate, energetic vigor that drove its previous works into the forefront of the genre since its start in 2009, creating what is by far its best release to date.

Singer Tanner Jones still kills it lyrically and vocally, making use of his ability to sing sweetly or grittily to deliver his lamenting, heartfelt lyrics, and musically, the band is better than ever. Keep Doing What You’re Doing sounds like the group’s old material on steroids, possessing a fuller sound and superior songwriting.

A lot of the songs are still full of angst and hostility, as in the past—specifically tracks like “Match & Tinder” and “Rock Springs”—but the band expands its palate to a wider range of styles, as well.

“A Different Kind of Kindling” starts with Jones singing a cappella, then melts into a powerful instrumental transition. This song is constantly throwing curve balls, impulsively dropping the beat here and there, spontaneously blowing up vocally—all on top of catchy musicianship.

This is what You Blew It! does best: write singable, engaging, hybrid-punk jams.

Then there are the more mellow, earnest tracks that tug at the heartstrings with relatable lyrics and singable melodies. Jones is known for exploring emotional, pessimistic subject matter in his writing, singing a lot about disappointment, nostalgia, and regret. “Strong Island” and “You & Me & Me” are some of the best examples of that; Jones strips down and loses his gritty vocal style to lament on rocky relationships and inner turmoil.

But let’s not forget the signature You Blew It! sound, which makes an appearance on the second track. Hard-hitting instrumentals and honest lyrics drive “Award of the Year Award” into the spotlight, quickly proving to be a fan favorite—and as one of the more fast-paced gems on the record, it’s hard to ignore. Lyrically, it is one of the best songs Keep Doing What You’re Doing has to offer, with harsh lines like, “You can always consider me a friend, just strictly in the past tense.”

At the end of this incredible ride is the climactic finale, “Better to Best.” It’s a beautiful song with a monumental beginning that bursts into an empowering chorus of voices, only getting better as it goes along.

Starting with the line, “Okay I’ll admit it, this past year I’ve been kind of an idiot,” “Better to Best” reflects on the past and sees the brighter side of things with a fittingly jovial melody.

The song decays into feedback, ending with Jones singing, “Maybe things aren’t quite as bad as I’ve let myself believe.” It’s a comforting ending to an album dominated by cynicism.

Making the best of its newfound stellar recording quality (thanks is due to Evan Weiss of Into It. Over It. for producing the album), You Blew It! did just the opposite of what its name suggests and exceeded expectations. The group really hit the nail on the head, crafting a colossal record that will stand the test of time.

Keep Doing What You’re Doing is a masterpiece, a must-listen for fans of the band and the emo revival genre as a whole.

You Blew It! – Keep Doing What You’re Doing tracklist:

1. “Match & Tinder”
2. “Award of the Year Award”
3. “Strong Island”
4. “Regional Dialect”
5. “House Address”
6. “A Different Kind of Kindling”
7. “Rock Springs”
8. “You & Me & Me”
9. “Gray Matter”
10. “Better to Best”

“I’m just making it for people who want to get lost,” says Angel Haze as she introduces us to her first studio album, Dirty Gold. Not even 10 full seconds pass before a synth-heavy beat cuts in, and suddenly Haze is spitting a mile a minute.

Known for writing narratives that ooze both power and honesty, her lyricism on Dirty Gold disappoints over mass-produced studio beats. This isn’t quite the Angel Haze that made jaws drop just over a year ago.

There is no denying that that Angel Haze is an amazing rapper, and the tracks themselves are indeed well crafted; however, Dirty Gold doesn’t do anything unique.

Up until this point, Haze has only produced wonderfully profound songs, but Dirty Gold is littered with pseudo-inspiration.

Haze has been through a lot, and one can hear her past seeping through her vague messages, but it all sounds shallow.

She spits with an aggression and venom similar to that of Eminem. Her reflective tendencies, depictions of her reality, and strong position are reminiscent of him; yet, she stands on her own as a female MC.

Haze made a name for herself with her 2012 mixtape, Classick. The connection to Eminem is inevitable, since she rapped over his 2002 track “Cleanin’ Out My Closet” and revealed how she was molested as a child. The track is heart-wrenching and raw, and while Dirty Gold has similar moments, none of them are nearly as powerful.

One of the tracks, “Black Dahlia,” has that same visceral vibe as “Cleanin’ Out My Closet,” but it’s not as engaging or breathtaking. “You should write a song where the concept is, you’re basically writing a love letter or, like, a piece of advice to your mother when she was your age,” suggests the start of the track.

Then Haze raps to her mother about how she loathes yet loves her, sees her mom in herself, and wishes she could have changed so much for her mom. The passion in Haze’s voice is rich, and as her emotion spills over with lyrics that manage to be both gritty and sentimental, it causes a deep-seated reaction in the listener, increasing with each play.

However, even the strongest lyrical moments can be overshadowed by the production on Haze’s album, which is oddly Top 40-esque. She dips into some dubstep, too, which is strikingly out of character.

Dirty Gold is disappointing and generic in quality, coming from one of hip hop’s most promising individuals. The album unfortunately lags because of the non-descript instrumentation. The duet with Sia on “Battle Cry” is precisely the type of hyper-constructed studio track, complete with vaguely uplifting lyrics, that makes the album feel played out even though it’s brand new.

“New York,” the final track on the deluxe edition, is also in various incarnations on Haze’s earlier work, like New York EP and Reservation. It’s an odd throwback, but also a reminder of how stellar Angel Haze can be when she’s not pandering to the masses.

Angel Haze – Dirty Gold tracklist:

1. “Sing About Me”
2. “Echelon (It’s My Way)”
3. “A Tribe Called Red”
4. “Deep Sea Diver”
5. “Synagogue”
6. “Angel + Airwaves”
7. “April’s Fools”
8. “White Lillies / White Lies”
9. “Battle Cry”
10. “Black Dahlia”
11. “Planes Fly”
12. “Dirty Gold”
13. “Rose-Tinted Suicide” (Deluxe Edition)
14. “Vinyl” (Deluxe Edition)
15. “Crown” (Deluxe Edition)
16. “New York” (Deluxe Edition)

“Selfish men die with empty hands” is just one of the message-heavy lines from spirit-filled hardcore band, Conveyer. Contrary to what the title Worn Out suggests, the Wisconsin fivesome is full of energy on its debut full-length album.

Composed of singer/guitarist Ty Brooks, drummer Bryan Malony, guitarist Jake Haag, bassist Ben Greene, and vocalist Carter Daniels, the aptly named Conveyer formed in late 2010 with a message to spread. The nine-track Worn Out is a melodic, hardcore overture about a man with an existential crisis that becomes a crisis of faith.

The group creates a harsh, aggressive wall of sound using fast drumming and loud, muddled riffs intercut with high, soft guitar melodies that break through the din.

Worn Out subverts some of hardcore’s conventions, adding a more complex and digestible layer to its sound.

The first track, “What’s Inside,” is a drum-heavy, head-banging kick-off that leads into the heavy “Nothing,” followed by the static-filled title track, “Worn Out.”

“Give it up; give up the life you planned,” Brooks screams over drum rolls. “Worn Out” is angry and energetic, giving a sense of being fed up as opposed to beaten down. For a change of pace, the album includes “Motions,” a two-minute, melodic guitar interlude that marks a shift in tone for Worn Out, moving from songs about an individual’s frustration and disillusionment toward the album’s real message: spiritual enlightenment.

Conveyer, with passion and honesty as guiding principals for its music, brings in themes like eschewing worldly possessions, finding purpose in one’s life, and figuring out what matters. The title doesn’t describe the band’s state of being, but rather its old way of living, which needs to make a 180.

The way for this group is toward God—perhaps an odd mix with its hardcore attitude, but one that doesn’t seem out of place. “Everything that You are is everything I strive to be,” is cried out in “Patience,” but this is one of few direct references to God.

Unlike many faith-based groups, Conveyer succeeds in avoiding prosthelytizing or being too heavy-handed with religious imagery. It is, first and foremost, a hardcore band with spiritual motivations, as opposed to a Christian rock band attempting to act tougher than it is.

Conveyer is as far from gospel as Christian music gets, and is more closely related to As I Lay Dying’s metalcore than the light rock of Relient K.

“Motions” excluded, Worn Out is a screaming, body-shaking rampage. Reverend Shaw Moore of 1984’s Footloose would most certainly not approve.

The final track, “Resist/Admit,” features a soaring, high-pitched, tremolo guitar picking and concludes with the line, “Please forgive me for all that I’ve done/I’m defeated; a shameful son/Just give me grace and hear my call/I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Worn Out grapples with a crisis of an individual who seeks forgiveness and a greater sense of meaning in life. The closing track is repentant, bringing a sense of closure and fulfillment to the questions posed throughout the album.

Overall, Worn Out packs some powerful sound with a spiritual punch. It’s unlikely that the album will spurn a mass of conversions, but Conveyer has stayed true to its name and sent its message with a solid hardcore album.

Conveyer – Worn Out tracklist:

1. “What’s Inside”
2. “Nothing”
3. “Worn Out”
4. “Captive”
5. “Surrendering”
6. “Motions”
7. “Patience”
8. “Disconnected”
9. “Resist/Admit”

Usually, receiving word of a new supergroup carries with it the expectation that the nascent collaboration will blend the talents of each of its members.

With the release of Sianvar’s self-titled EP, listeners are given a 5-song trek into disappointingly familiar territory.

But if you ignore the high expectations set for a so-called  supergroup, the tracks do present moments of artistic license in which the players opt to keep things interesting, veering into less formulaic lands rather than letting the music lavish in the doldrums of the over-populated prog/post-hardcore genre.

It’s a tired subheading, to be sure, and one in which many acts choose to only graze the bar set for innovation. Sianvar does well in separating itself from the usual chaff.

Elements of Sianvar’s pioneer effort are clearly hand-offs from individual band member’s established acts.

The busy technicality that guitarist Will Swan brings to Dance Gavin Dance (his well known nü-screamo outfit) is clearly transmuted into the cascading licks that populate much of this EP.

Swan’s playing clasps hands pleasingly with Sergio Medina, whose contributions as second guitar may actually be responsible for many of the more alluring chord changes and tender tonalities heard on this EP–based on the treatment of his primary project, Stolas.

The rhythm section, consisting of Joe Arrington on drums and Michael Littlefield on bass–both transplants from A Lot Like Birds (a slightly more metal-core minded and fast-paced branding of post-hardcore, featuring sporadic moments of ambiance and varied instrumentation that are uncharacteristic of the genre)–may be the motivating force in coaxing the major tenets of Sianvar’s sound into the genre-melding, spastic prog-realm it inhabits—when it decides to settle anywhere at all, that is.

The addition of Hail the Sun vocalist Donovan Melero adds suitable dynamic to the arrangements. He’s able to emit mostly believable guttural voicings and swing on a dime to a pretty, though sometimes nasally, falsetto.

With a hat tip to the tendencies of top-tier experimenters like The Mars Volta or Refused, many of the stylistic choices on the EP are enticingly erratic and well executed, considering that they flirt so overtly with being too busy to give the audience any substantial foothold.

Save for the requisite dancey bits of a song like “Your Tongue Ties,” much of the riffage featured on this release excels at giving the tunes a feeling of movement.

Whether nodding along with the loose, sweeping arpeggiation of “Chest Pressure,” the opening and most balanced track on Sianvar, or tapping in time with the attractively subdivided components of “Sick Machine,” the groove that Sianvar lands in most often is ridden satisfactorily.

The group succeeds in piecing together a sound that allows for a Russian roulette caliber of randomness, but usually finds its way back to the beaten path. Perhaps a more tasteful choice for this initial release would have been for the players to adopt a slightly more controlled approach in order to steer the music into the weirdo, slack-metal territory of millennial, progressively dissonant bands like The Fall of Troy or The Dillinger Escape Plan, both of which can be heard to varying extents beneath the parts of this release that feature real bite.

Over-production and general attitude squanders some really original, genuinely cool, and well-executed ideas on Sianvar’s debut EP.

It seems that the intended audience and the track records of the band members weighed more heavily than they should have on the creative process.

Sianvar does offer significantly more range of musical vocabulary than many acts in its peer group through its less formatted song structuring and aptly cherry-picked influences (stretching back to late ’90s/early ’00s alternative innovators like At the Drive-In or Cave In), but the winning moments are edged to the sidelines more often than not by compressed production and a vocal heavy mix.

Certain aspects of Sianvar bolster and detract from its final product simultaneously. Generally, its shifting motif serves to deprive listeners of context. But it’s that same relentless action that, when pulled off, sets Sianvar apart from its contemporaries, an important quality considering that many in-vogue post-hardcore releases only cloud the already polluted waters of modern screamo-chic.

Sianvar writhes and wriggles as you try to pin it down, both ends pulling in different directions, like a two headed snake. That elusive quality just might be the key to this side project’s success.

Sianvar – Sianvar EP tracklist:

1. “Chest Pressure”
2. “Sick Machine”
3. “Your Tongue Ties”
4. “Virtual Vain”
5. “Substance Sequence”

Hailing from a small town in southern France, Morgan Manifacier arrived in the US a few years ago to study music in California.

Now, two years after his critically-acclaimed debut Grande, Manifacier is back with his appropriately-titled sophomore attempt Hues and Calm.

“Calm” is the perfect word to describe Manifacier’s newest LP. Using only his tranquil voice, an acoustic guitar, and a bit of drums and cello (courtesy of Matt Camgros and Sarah Hawley-Snow, respectively), Manifacier crafts a colorful, relaxed, otherworldly ambiance that is addictive from the get-go.

Manificier expertly plays on the same sounds that make Iron & Wine and Bon Iver so appealing: the stripped down, raw music and lyrics that really hit home emotionally.

Hues and Calm is in that same category, tugging on the heart strings through the natural awe of heartfelt folk songs blended with melancholy tenderness.

The album starts with the eerie, experimental “Cold Countries.” It’s one of the most avant-garde tracks on the LP, toying with vocal layering and effects as well as a somewhat off-putting melodies. It’s an interesting way to lead into the pleasant, calming tunes that follow, but nonetheless shows the range and variety Manifacier and company are capable of.

The next few songs are where the album picks up, so to speak, in quality if not in tone. From here on out, the album is an intoxicating, placid, beautiful work of art. Hues and Calm is the perfect album to sit back and melt away to. Songs like the gorgeous “My Own;” the rejuvenating, monumental “Ourselves;” and the warm, embracing “Busy Boy” all hit on a different level than most music. It’s hard to come by so much beauty in a single album.

There are no poor moments on Hues and Calm whatsoever; all of the songs are comforting and full of life. It continually gets more inspiring and impassioned as it goes along, hitting a high point at the piano ballad “Faithful & Brave.”

Manifacier experiments once again with the same vocal techniques he used on “Cold Countries,” adding a ghostly feel to the elegant display of musicianship by the pianist, which is the highlight of the track. Camgros comes in toward the end with chaotic tapping on his snare to heighten the emotional tension of the song, making it all the better as it comes to a close.

Just when you thought Manifacier couldn’t write more beautifully, he does.

“The Bridge” and “Oh Joie” are two ravishing  songs that finish off Hues and Calm, both sung in French, though the latter is largely instrumental. The two tracks have a hypnotizing effect that make the language barrier irrelevant. The emotion and passion are more apparent than ever, as is the swelling feeling that each track evokes.

Whether you’re in need of music to help cope with a rough situation or just need a perfect rainy day album, look no further. It’s been a while since such a lovely album has been released. Hues and Calm drips with emotion and fantastic musicianship; it mellows and entrances the listener with captivating songwriting and an intricate atmosphere all its own. Manifacier is starting the new year off right with some incredible, stunningly beautiful music.

Morgan Manifacier – Hues and Calm tracklist:

1. “Cold Countries”
2. “My Own”
3. “Mother, Mother”
4. “From My Mouth”
5. “Ourselves”
6. “Busy Boy”
7. “Faithful & Brave”
8. “The Bridge”
9. “Oh Joie”

It’s difficult for most people to appreciate a band that is still committed to churning out albums that feature mostly instrumental songs. These days, it seems artists who rely on synthesizers to boost their voices and create three-minute (or less), cheesy pop songs dominate the collective attention span.

Therefore, Mogwai’s forthcoming album, Rave Tapes, is a welcome break. It is an elegant, guitar-led instrumental album that is haunting and smooth, and at its best throws out a few pleasant surprises.

The first song, “Heard About You Last Night,” starts off with a voice moaning or chanting something incoherent. Then the song rolls out with the ringing of a snowy, fuzzy electronic bell followed by classic guitars.

This seasoned, post-rock band from Scotland isn’t creating anything particularly new or groundbreaking. Rave Tapes gives listeners more of what they’ve already heard: Guitar solos and synthesizers sounding off hand in hand. That’s not to say the music is bad; it’s just not often surprising.

Most of the songs are not hard on the ears; they aren’t loud or explosive. But Mogwai continues to be dynamic by shifting its tunes in interesting ways.

In “Remurdered,” the song starts with the clock ticking, but it’s not long before the track transforms completely. It starts off slow, with the synth playing back and forth, and then rest of band chipping in. The tune starts to pick up pace a few minutes in, and suddenly, all the instruments roll out, producing a noisy, guitar-driven, and thumping  soft techno mash-up.

On “Repelish,” Mogwai pulls a MacGyver, with random, but pleasant surprises pulled out of a hat.

“Repelish” and “Blues Hour” are the only tracks with vocals, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to singing. “Repelish” instead provides a commentary about Led Zeppelin’s famous song “Stairway to Heaven.”

It’s so amusing that it will throw listeners off.  For a moment, it feels like an annoying Spotify ad just popped up, as a man observes, “Further in the tape, I came across another part that made me throw my headphones right off my head.” At the end, he asks listeners, “‘Cause they have a choice to make, what about you, what do you choose?”

Mogwai might be past its prime, and its post-rock work no longer grabs attention in this hyper age of small attention spans. Warning: This album is not for the masses, but that’s what makes Rave Tapes an awesome, stunning album to cherish. It takes patience to truly enjoy the band’s craftsmanship and the many details that make this album incredible to listen to.

Mogwai – Rave Tapes tracklist:

1. “Heard About You Last Night”
2. “Simon Ferocious”
3. “Remurdered”
4. “Hexon Bogon”
5. “Repelish”
6. “Mastercard”
7. “Deesh”
8. “Blues Hour”
9. “No Medicine for Regret”
10. “The Lord is Out of Control”