Poet Laureate Tongo Eisen Martin’s words snake their way into one’s consciousness and viciously bite at the tragic absurdity of American racism.
Dublin's the Murder Capital and Detroit's Protomartyr both delve into murky existential lyrical terrain as riotous riffs reverberate and drums pound militantly, infusing the atmosphere with ominous sonic shadows.
Every Day We Get More Illegal, seems to foretell a diatribe vibe, but threaded throughout Herrera's verse is the musicality--the calming, invigorating melodies that remind us, ever so sweetly, if insistently: Latino lives are beloved.
Bright Eyes may not technically be emo, but they are transcendently expressive, beatifically melancholic. Down in the Weeds is just the statement of grounding that we need as a respite from the churning chaos around us.
In these times of pandemic turmoil and outright trauma, what better match does the tempestuous human soul have than the sea? And what better lyricist than the Cure's Robert Smith, who twins the wrath (or sadness) of the sea with similar human emotions?
Both Bertoglio's Downtown 81 and Linklater's Slacker showcase characters who are blissfully aimless, anarchic souls discretely or overtly spurning a predictable, soulless society.
The vocals on Fontaines D.C. debut, Dogrel, are megaphonic, more shouty than croony. Indeed, Fontaines D.C. is spoken-word, white-boy rap at its most vociferous and off-kilter.
Deerhunter's Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? and Cryptograms are antithetical twins -- shattered mirror images, whose fragments echo each other and reflect Deerhunter's beginnings of and return to inspired experimentation.