Reviews
Leave The Bones Holds the Wave on Heart On My Sleeve
After years of telling other people’s stories, Jeremy Bogen ties his own terms to the sleeve and dares the room to look.
Editor-in-Chief
Giorgio Watanabe
Reviews
Sarah Khatami Stages an Unlived Life on Play House
Sarah Khatami’s Play House keeps a bossa-leaning room warm for a life that never moved in, then leaves the dollhouse on the curb.
Reviews
Ross Atlan Turns a Drummer’s Touch into the Chorus on I Can Feel Your Hands
A drummer from the Minneapolis years comes back to Iowa and puts the contact in the title. I Can Feel Your Hands is short, bright, and built to be held.
Reviews
Nasty Passion Turns a Sunset Strip Flyer Into the Whole Song on Nasty
The first single from the self-titled album still works the sidewalk outside the club, loud, crude, and hard to throw away.
Reviews
Jack Agdur Leaves the First Layer Standing on Arche Dream
A Stockholm composer who wrote on Feldman keeps the dream in section. The caution is the method, and also the limit.
Reviews
Dream37th Holds the Unmarked Hour on Everyday Life
From a bedroom in Legnica, Kamil Demecki’s Dream37th project treats ordinary time as the whole composition. Everyday Life is a short instrumental with a bell-like pluck, a low pad, and nowhere to rush.
Reviews
Ashley Ray Simon lets the creature slip the net on Strange Animals
On Strange Animals, Ashley Ray Simon writes a page for a bestiary with no moral, then lets the specimen get away up the Mississippi.
Reviews
Moon and Aries Turn Toward the Lights on In the Silence of the Hills
A drumless single assembled by ear from Cologne, Kelowna, London and Switzerland, with the chill kept close to the ground.
Reviews
Segana lets the night keep the secret on Midnight Masquerade
The Sydney duo’s debut album treats the after-hours city like an old carnival rule, a place where the name can wait outside.
Reviews
The House Flies Misplace the Story on Lost Literature
The Moline four-piece put a locked bass-and-drum pulse under a night drive that keeps circling the same question. Who you are. Who you were. What the radio still holds when the car goes back.