The last live performance I saw before the pandemic shutdown was Robyn Hitchcock. Watching his remote concert from my bed, I can say I enjoyed it just as much.
Lorde’s Solar Power is a disorganized, hackneyed collection that doesn’t deepen her existing body of work but introduces a woman riddled with white privilege.
Like nature itself, Satomimagae’s Hanazono is by turns stormy and serene indie folk, as meditative as it is simmering with dormant, primal power.
Jane Weaver’s ‘Flock’ is perfectly complete, hermetically sealed while suggesting any number of influences and reference points that never usurp the originality of the songs themselves.
Pearl Charles' art doesn't offer easy resolutions to internal or external crises on Magic Mirror, but as she works through her ideas, she leads us to somewhere better.
Arriving less than a year after Drift Code, Rustin Man consolidates a rich vein of form with the sepia-toned Clockdust, an autumnal record rendered generous and exquisite by each song's emotional weight.
Evritiki Zygia's Ormenion has a ferocity that speaks to the tenacity of old traditions as well as to a progressive spirit. It's nothing short of hypnotic.
Six Organs of Admittance's Companion Rises begins and ends in a pre-dawn haze, shadowed by an inky sky that stretches out toward the cosmos before landing softly back on Earth.
Mud-folk, psychedelic Americana band, Lord Buffalo deliver a new video tracked in Norman, Oklahoma and spotlighting the depth of their upcoming LP, Tohu Wa Bohu.
Donovan Quinn's (Skygreen Leopards) first solo album in seven years explores memory, love, and loss in no uncertain psych-folk terms.
Instrumental guitar duo Elkhorn tweak the formula with a third musician on their latest album, The Storm Sessions. Rarely has a blizzard sounded this good.