premiere – muldue

– featured image courtesy of zac bowen –

max ramsden makes music that sounds like exploring a forest at twilight. as muldue, ramsden has spent the past handful of years recording loosely ambient music, pulling liberally from other genres while honing a rather hypnotic aesthetic.

on march 1st, muldue will release a place both foreign and familiar, his debut effort with the seattle-based label hush hush records and his third overall; the extended play’s five tracks together are sprawling, traversing the haunted terrain of ramsden’s inner mechanisms while bathing his voice in a distant sea of reverb.

a wide tremolo pulsates across the stereo fields of the EP‘s lead single, “i tried,” a five-minute meditation deserving of its status as centerpiece. coupled with an eerie, dissonant ostinato and anchored by a hushed but confident lead vocal, “i tried” is an enticing glimpse of things to come for muldue, comfort food for the dead of winter.

“i tried” premieres here today on the dimestore. listen in below.

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hovvdy – cranberry

– featured image courtesy of bronwyn walls – 

“album of the fortnight” is a bi-weekly feature that digs into a recent release of note. the articles will run roughly during the middle and at the end of each month, always on a friday; the album or body of work in question will have been released at some point during that two-week span. this column focuses on art that resonates deeply, on pieces that necessitate more than just a knee-jerk reaction.  next up: hovvdy.

Austin duo hovvdy’s 2016 album taster is warm, understated, and timeless; its eleven tracks are doused in a collective nostalgic haze, a collage of comfort that executes its function time and again.  double double whammy reissued taster in april of last year and rumblings of a follow-up soon began percolating.  the end result, cranberry, finds charlie martin and will taylor tightening up hovvdy’s core blueprints while confidently venturing out into new sonic territory.

cranberry is compact and potent: twelve songs that clock in around thirty-five minutes.  it’s clear from the hushed vocals that tentatively trace the outlines of opening number “brave” that hovvdy is intent on basking in its signature blend of warmth, the edges obscured by crackling overdrive and arrangements that slowly unravel back to their foundation.  this theory is further supported by singles like “in the sun,” “petal,” and “late,” a trifecta of hovvdy’s core tenets which easily could have nestled in on the album’s predecessor.

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listen closely, however, and these pillars of cranberry feel less anodyne than they may first appear.  the production has shifted cautiously out of a lo-fi realm while still taking time to maintain that appearance, and the arrangements are often fleshed out by foreign timbres.  in this sense, martin and taylor seem to be easing themselves – and their audience – into the aforementioned sonic departure; case in point: the pastoral synth lead that meanders through “in the sun” presages the largely-electronic composition of “thru,” and returns as a familiar touchstone throughout the rest of cranberry.

this practice of using familiarity to anchor tangential ventures eventually yields “truck,” a gorgeous turn at alt-country filtered through hovvdy’s slow-core lens.  in hindsight, the use of banjo sprinkled throughout previous tracks all but foreshadows the song’s arrival, but the beauty of its pedal-steel treatment is difficult to adequately describe; it’s best to just be heard and felt.  zooming out, “truck” is indicative of what martin and taylor are able to accomplish across hovvdy: growth and maturation as collaborative songwriters who are confident enough to tweak the foundation of their aesthetic as needed.

the enduring gift of hovvdy is the duo’s use of space.  it’s easy to spot and appreciate on sparse tracks, like the penultimate cut “colorful” and the woozy instrumental interlude “tub,” but even full-bodied tracks like “petal” contain unbelievable levels of headroom that is hard not to marvel at.  that wide-open, panoramic end result is partially due to compositional choices – such as the openness of guitar chords and the relaxed feel that permeates the percussion – to be sure, but it’s also implied by the ubiquity of the album’s lyrics, intimate snapshots that leave room for interpretation based on personal experiences.

like its predecessor, cranberry is sure to age gracefully as a strong asset in hovvdy’s catalogue.  the album is out now via double double whammy; stream it in full, below.

hovvdy – “late”

– featured image courtesy of bronwyn walls – 

austin duo hovvdy made a lasting impression with their debut full-length, taster; released by sports day records in 2016 and reissued by double double whammy earlier this year, taster embodied charlie martin and will taylor’s knack for writing hushed, intimate lo-fi pop, songs that easily could have been exhumed from an older sibling’s tape collection.  after taking time to tour and enjoy the well-deserved accolades that have followed taster, martin and taylor are forging ahead with cranberry, their sophomore album, due february 9th.

an initial sampling of cranberry arrived late last month in the form of “petal,” a lilting slow-burner that turns on a disarming, whispered chorus delivered in falsetto.  hovvdy’s newest single harbors subtle contrasts; the vocals throughout “late” are assured and nestled in the foreground, and the guitars feel a bit more blown-out, creeping closer to the cacophony of their slowcore forebears.

but “late” is also about tenderness and compassion overcoming initial feelings of anxiety and inadequacy, as the song revolves around the couplet “circle point of view / i’ll come around to you.”  appropriately, a pastoral synth pad seems to be perpetually hovering underneath the more immediate timbres, paying homage to the thematic warmth radiating outwards.  “late” functions particularly well on repeat, a new component sinking in on each new listen until the track coalesces into something greater than the sum of its parts.  embark on your journey through the link below.

bedhead – 1992-1998

bedhead numero group
out november 11th via numero group

trying to codify the trajectory of indie rock is a harrowing yet foolish task; first and foremost, there isn’t a single path to trace, and “indie rock” as a genre now feels hopelessly redundant.  the songs that now grace the blogosphere on a daily basis are somewhat indebted to forebears that broke through courtesy of car commercials and the o.c., but other strains like hip-hop and post-dub sneak in here and there, making it impossible to pin down a direct lineage.  an over-saturated contemporary climate benefits from a rather even-handed representation of nearly every style made accessible to an audience, yet this very fact deprives our generation of a defining sound, one that can be succinctly pinpointed years down the road.

an egalitarian musical climate may sound like a utopia, but it threatens to become stagnant at any given moment.  the all-encompassing grunge movement of the late 1980s and early 1990s was as much a whirlwind as it was incredibly suffocating; the unfortunate post-grunge era was a residual effect of its sudden implosion, but the movement’s huge gravitational pull led to inventive and important counters by young bands like modest mouse, low, and codeine, artists who were (initially) the outlier’s outliers.  another such antithetical band was bedhead, a texas quintet led by two brothers that incorporated many salient features of 1980s alternative rock at slightly lower volumes and tempos.  their recording career lasted just six years yet yielded three albums, a pair of eps, and a handful of singles, all of which are being reissued as 1992-1998, a retrospective four-album collection released by numero group.

 

dynamic contrast is one of music’s basic principles, and one that was certainly no stranger to the pop music of bedhead’s era.  bands like weezer and nirvana capitalized big time on the soft-loud verse-chorus one-two punch, while j mascis’ mumbling served as a simultaneous contrast to the deafening wall of sound created by dinosaur jr.  shoegaze acts followed similar practices, but nearly all lacked the patience to let that soft dynamic fester.  bedhead had that luxury.  spearheaded by matt and bubba kadane, the dallas-based quintet thrived on an almost orchestral approach to songwriting – the band experimented with stringed instruments like violin and viola before deciding to incorporate a third guitarist – and preferred to let every single melodic idea come to fruition before letting loose.

while bedhead certainly polarized grunge on a national level, their soft murmers were even more of a stark contrast to the hardcore bands that dominated the texas music scene in the early 1990s.  often sharing the same bill with these bands in their formidable days, bedhead occasionally caught some flack from hostile and unsuspecting crowds, though it wasn’t for lack of emotion.  from their earliest 7″ recordings, the brothers kadane expressed thoughts and feelings that quite clearly could only barely be kept in check, sometimes boiling over a la the coda of “bedside table.”  stellar songwriting and relentless touring led to a record deal with trance syndicate, a label that would become home to bedhead for the duration of their existence.

1994 saw the release of bedhead’s first album, whatfunlifewas.  the hesitant guitar arpeggios in the opening bars of “liferaft” briefly steer the band down the path that would eventually label them as slowcore pioneers, but those deconstructed chords prove to be a temporary misdirection.  the first quarter of whatfunlifewas is raw and incredibly prone to explosions of sound, and “haywire” is just altogether raucous, the perfect snapshot of a seminal band in development.  the album begins to burn slowly and comfortably near its halfway point, but the lyrical content – intense and introspective reflections on religion and god – remains largely consistent and becomes even more poignant once the band reaches that softer, more static volume.  yet, there’s a certain depth to whatfunlifewas that’s exceedingly rare for debut efforts; the quintet was confident enough in their ability to completely dictate a mood that they felt comfortable to briefly meander in a proto-decemberists direction on “to the ground” and to experiment with slightly cacophonous feedback towards the end of “powder.”

 

the hidden gem of 1992-1998 is the collection’s fourth disc, one that contains bedhead’s two eps along with a slew of singles and cover songs.  both 4songcdep19:10 and the dark ages were recorded and released in the two years that passed between whatfunlifewas and 1996’s beheaded, an album that subtly played on the band’s name while firmly cementing their status as champions of morose, downtempo ballads.  the dark ages showcases this best, capturing bedhead as they transitioned from raw and slightly raucous to refined and almost pensive.  the three-guitar structure of the band’s compositions loses any sense of internal competition as countermelodies become less contradictory and more complementary, although this could have easily been due to tench coxe’s sustained absences as he pursued post-graduate studies.  at any rate, the six-minute instrumental “inhume” hints at a renewed sense of patience and an even more thoughtful approach to song structure while “any life” again incorporates americana overtones, though in a much more subtle fashion than on their debut.

immediately apparent from the opening notes of beheaded is the expanding role of drummer trini martinez.  while the bulk of whatfunlifewas found martinez adding muted, jazz-influenced backbeats to bedhead’s dense thickets of guitar melodies, he’s noticeably absent from much of the album’s title track, an opening number that bravely eschews any sort of momentum in favor of static chord changes.  among the five members of bedhead, martinez’ role was the one that could fluctuate the most and the band made ample use of that fact throughout their sophomore effort.  if whatfunlifewas operated between four and seven on a ten-point scale of rhythmic complexity and musicality, then martinez widened the margins at least two notches in either direction on beheaded.  songs like “smoke” and “felo de se” feature busy drum parts in comparison to the majority of bedhead’s output, while the end of “roman candle” finds martinez employing remarkable dexterity within the confines of the band’s signature sound.

this new approach to space and revised roles of instruments was adopted by the rest of bedhead on their final release, 1998’s transaction de novo.  the nine steve albini-produced tracks are easily the most sparse in the band’s repertoire, and many are among their most somber.  while the band was able to create a singular mood out of saturating textures, albini crafted a tangential emotion based on a purely subtractive method; the chordal support of the third guitar largely disappears on transaction de novo, instead shifting the focus back towards intertwining, single-note guitar melodies that resolve over a number of measures rather than a few beats.  this increased emphasis on counterpoint is enhanced by busier bass playing from kris wheat, who plays in tandem with a guitar on parts of “exhume” and has a few peter hook-like moments on “more than ever.”

though albini succeeded in paring down bedhead’s sound to its absolute essentials, he also simultaneously steered the quintet towards some of their heaviest material.  the back half of “extramundane” sounds like it was written by a garage rock alter ego of bedhead, and “psychosomatica” is clearly the band’s last chance to completely let loose.  loud and soft were integral components of bedhead’s music, though they were usually addressed on separate tracks; this remained true to the end, and the unresolved conflict of the band’s two extremes remains one of the most fascinating aspects of their career.  but, in true bedhead fashion, the last notes to ever be tracked by them are comfortably arpeggiated chords, supported by lackadaisical common-time drumming.  perhaps that’s some sort of indicator, or perhaps the kadane brothers were just felt like burning slowly.

bedhead left an indelible mark on at least some aspect of indie rock’s trajectory by the time their six-year run came to an end in 1998.  death cab for cutie would release their seminal something about airplanes the following year, an album that retained bedhead’s loose, live approach towards recording, and it’s hard not to hear the influence of matt and bubba kadane on ben gibbard’s vocal delivery.  their three-guitar method would crop up soon in another popular austin-based band – explosions in the sky – and the quintet’s orchestral approach to songwriting undoubtedly weighed heavily on musical decisions by countless post-rock outfits.  along with other 1990s staples like codeine and low, bedhead was a shining example of how slow music didn’t necessarily have to be boring music.  whether they meant to or not, five guys from texas inspired an entire generation of musicians who dared to play below ninety beats per minute.  now their entire output is available in one tidy package; pick up 1992-1998 here.