Human is such a different album that Rag’N’Bone Man almost needs a new name. (His earlier work, particularly Disfigured, suited it much better).

But all that withstanding, this new style suits Rory Graham so much better that it’s hard to complain. From the opening (titular) track, Graham totally dominates Human. In fact, his old style was so dominating musically that I had no idea Graham was this good of a singer!

Nearly every track is worth writing about. The afore-mentioned title track is a stunning opener that capitalizes on everything that Human is about: swaggering bass lines, blues influence, and a huge pop sheen overtop of everything. “Bitter End” is a track that simmers thanks to an incredible performance from Graham. “Be the Man” is incredibly pop-heavy, but Graham’s baritone voice carries it through the entire song.

There are some songs that are particularly strong. “Love You Any Less” is a song that will no doubt capture the radio the same way Sam Smith does. It’s an incredible, raw performance from Graham overtop of a remarkably bare backing track that lets his voice breathe.

“Die Easy” is an a cappella performance that simply captivates. There’s nobody with a voice like Graham’s on the market.

Even his older tracks, like “Wolves”, are given a bit of a sheen make-over here that put an extra focus on Graham’s voice. But “Wolves” doesn’t sit as well with this new, cotton candy style that Graham’s performing as now.

And the occasional track features a hip hop performance, which is something that Graham was doing in 2014 too (with a Vince Staples nod then). But these days, it doesn’t sit as well.

When the old Rag’n’Bone Man collides with the new one, there’s a slight disconnect.

But despite that, the debut record from one of the most intimidating voices in neo-blues is an astounding effort, and one that I’ve been listening to again and again over the past week. It’s easy to get into, and it sticks in your head. Rag’n’Bone Man is one of the most promising new performers of the past five years.

The post Rag’n’Bone Man: Human appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

You folks call the music you play “Cosmic Country”. Describe how that style came to be. How would you describe it to somebody who’s never heard of SUSTO?

We used the term “cosmic country”  early on, but I’m not sure we would use that anymore. I felt like it fit what we were trying to do with the first record, we were going for a type of country that was both rough around the edges & far out.

Thinking in terms of the new album, I haven’t really thought of it as a “cosmic country” album until this interview, but I guess in a lot of ways, that description fits & I’m Fine Today better than the self-titled album. There are country or alt-country undertones throughout the album, but it’s wrapped in all these different genres to help keep it fresh and (we hope) interesting. It’s a fusion of roots, electronic, rock, and world music.

& I’m Fine Today is your sophomore album. Now that you’ve been playing cosmic country for a couple of years, have you met any imitators yet?

I wouldn’t say we have encountered imitators, although I hope that we have inspired some people. I mean, I think one of the coolest things about music is that everyone is influenced by everyone. We definitely have some heavy influencers, and it would be an honor for someone to consider themselves influenced by what we are doing.

& I’m Fine Today is a big step up from your debut. It feels like a whole other level, from the songwriting to the production. What’s changed since SUSTO came out in 2014?

I think the more time you spend doing something, the better you get at it. Plus, we actually had the time and money to make this record pretty much exactly like we wanted — within reason. I think that’s why there is such progress between the two albums. I still love our first record and I’m thankful for it, because people really latched onto it. And it made it possible for us to make & I’m Fine Today, to move forward and get better.

I think that continuing the conversation and making art for the sake of social progress is worth pissing a few people off.

You guys are from South Carolina, and I know your hearts are there. In the current political climate, what’s the response been to some of these topical songs, like “Gay in the South”, in the southern states you call home?

The reaction has been what we’d expected. A lot of people are very supportive and are happy to hear music that addresses real social/cultural issues at hand. Others have definitely pushed back. People have tweeted at me saying that I’m going to hell. Some of my family members have stopped talking to me. But you know what, I don’t care. I knew that would happen but I think continuing the conversation and making art for the sake of social progress is worth pissing a few people off.

Trump and others have made a lot of us feel like there are two very distinct sides in this country. I just don’t think that is true. There are definitely far right and far left ends of the spectrum but I think we have a lot of good people in this country (and in the whole world for that matter) that want to find common ground.

There’s a lot of fear mongering out there, a lot of “us vs them” mentality, and our goal as a band is to help combat that. We want to spread love and respect for humanity. We are trying to be a different voice than what people hear on the news or read on Facebook. Hope is a powerful thing. People told me when I was young that, when I got older, I’d realize that the world can’t be changed — that it is how it is and it will always be that way. Those people were fucking wrong about the world and wrong about me.

What’s a day look like for you when you’re on tour?

(laughing) It’s usually pretty boring. We spend a lot of time in the van just getting from one place to the next, or in hotels. This tour we have had a lot more press stuff to do, like this interview + radio, TV & a few in-store performances at record stores, that helps break up the monotony. Still, the best part of everyday is playing the show. That’s why we’re all really out here and that’s what we really enjoy.

We are trying to be a different voice than what people hear on the news or read on Facebook. Hope is a powerful thing.

Any current albums on repeat?

Still listening to a lot of favorites from 2016 (Whitney, Jonny Fritz, JPKS). But I’m looking forward to some upcoming releases this year!

As a band, what kind of legacy do you want to leave?

I hope that we can bring some joy to the world and help bring about some real positive change. Big or small, we just want to help if we can.

Thanks for spending some time with us, Justin!

The post Cosmic Country: Justin Osborne of SUSTO Wants to Inspire Hope appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

That makes Snowdonia a slightly difficult affair.

In 2015, Thomas Feteke, Surfer Blood’s guitarist, left Surfer Blood after being diagnosed with a rare form of stomach cancer. Snowdonia is the band’s first release since his death, and the only one in Surfer Blood’s career thus far to be written without any input from him.

To complicate matters even further, longtime bass guitarist Kevin Williams left the band in October last year to “pursue other opportunities” (I haven’t heard what he’s up to yet).

That left only two members of the original group: singer John Paul Pitts and drummer Tyler Schwarz. The band brought in an old friend of theirs from high school, Lindsey Mills, to replace Williams on bass. Mike McCleary has the even-more-difficult job of filling in for Thomas Feteke.

So Snowdonia is very much a record with roots in loss, starring a band in transition.

Sometimes, this is obvious. There’s new ground broken on Snowdonia that has little in common with Surfer Blood’s roots. Tracks like “Six Flags in F or G” are more experimental than anything the band has done before. (And you can tell they’re a direct result of Feteke’s death: Pitts describes what he feels as “parasitic grief” on the track.)

If anything, tracks like these make it clear that the band is going through a phase where everybody has to get to know each other again. Things don’t necessarily gel the way they used to.

But on occasion, they do gel very well. “Frozen” is one of the best indie songs I’ve heard in a while, with an astoundingly catchy riff and melody that reminds me of their output circa 2010. But unlike that year’s Astro Coast, Snowdonia feels less focused and less refined. Tracks like “Instant Doppelgängers” and “Taking Care of Eddy” feel like vintage Surfer Blood, even while they tread new ground, but they don’t hit below the belt the same way that Astro Coast did (and does).

All that being said, Snowdonia is an impressive record because it feels like lightning in a bottle. Few bands are willing to be this openly vulnerable with their audiences, opening up the most difficult chapters in their lives for all to see. It might not go down as a classic, but Snowdonia is better than anybody had any right to expect. It’s a fun record, with some great ideas and new directions for the band.

And as a case study of bands in transition, it’s hard to beat.

The post Surfer Blood: Snowdonia appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Near to the Wild Heart of Life isn’t like that.

It turns out Celebration Rock, one of my go-to records over the past half a decade, is a product of its time. Maybe it’s the Obama era, or simply a product of the band’s youth, but its fun-loving nature isn’t replicated on Near to the Wild Heart of Life.

Wild Heart sounds like the post-hangover record to Celebration Rock’s blissful joy. That’s not to say it’s a sad record — far from it, really. But it feels like Japandroids looked at Celebration Rock and decided they needed to grow up a little bit.

In some respects, the band sounds a little less energetic than before. “Mature” is an appropriate word, but it carries unfortunately negative connotations. The changes on Wild Heart are almost all for the better.

In many ways, songs like “North East South West” are among the best the band has made. It’s dynamic without losing its forward motion and energy. “True Love and a Free Life of Free Will” is a slow song, and it consequently speaks a totally different musical language than anything Japandroids made in the past. It’s a surprising direction for Japandroids to pursue after this many years of gun-blazing rock, but it’s a direction they’re surprisingly comfortable in.

You could call Celebration Rock a youthful record and Wild Heart an adult one, or at least a record influenced by adulthood. But that would be missing the big picture.

And the big picture is this: Japandroids use Near to the Wild Heart of Life as a transitionary record. They reflect on whether they’ve been, and carefully consider where they’d like to go. “In a Body Like a Grave” sees the band reflect on the hometowns they’re from, what they sacrificed to get where they are now, and what it feels like to look back even as they look forward. It ends the record on a high note, but leaves us wanting more.

There are energetic moments on Wild Heart reminiscent of the band’s past, but now Japandroids looks to those moments as sentimental throwbacks. But thankfully, in the process of diversifying their sound, Japandroids’ music has become more nuanced and subtle. They’re a better band, even if they’re a different one now.

Near to the Wild Heart of Life is less of a party. More of a thought. And as Japandroids shift from a celebration in 2012 to introspection in 2017, so too does the world.

Main photo by Leigh Righton.

The post Japandroids: Near to the Wild Heart of Life appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Thankfully, I was completely undersold. Dan Rico’s debut record is a bit of a grower, but it’s an album that demands your repeated attention. Endless Love is garage rock at its purest.

What stands out to me, more than anything else, is the way Rico bridges the gap between his pop influences and his 70s punk influences. Endless Love is filled with garage rock and lo-fi punk influences that make Dan Rico so much more than a Prince sound-alike.

In fact, comparing Rico to Prince feels wrong. Rico is mining some of the best sounds of the 70s — even elements of Endless Love’s production are very old-fashioned — but he’s writing music for the dopamine-driven A.D.D. generation. There are only three tracks on the record longer than three minutes, and the longest track is three minutes and five seconds long. The songs are more like staccato-style thoughts, delivered quickly and sincerely.

These quick songs are reminiscent of Rico’s punk influences. “Kinda Wanna”, which clocks in at a minute and forty-five seconds, or “Wasted Youth” (two minutes and fifty-one seconds) could be played at a skatepark. And it’s these tracks that, for me, are the most memorable on the record. They come in quick, short bursts, like excited proclamations and high energy capos to what came before. Some of these songs, like “On a Tear”, are so reminiscent of the slower Misfits stuff that I did a double take.

Not every track is blatantly punk or anything like that. There are plenty of in-between tracks, like “Endless Love” (the title track, obviously). It’s one of the best tracks on the record, but it’s not punk, and it’s not pop. It’s just this in-between old-school rock thing, delivered with Rico’s kind-of shrill voice.

Then there are tracks like “After All”, which do feel tremendously like pop music and lose the edge that Dan Rico otherwise has. The two styles are nearly jarring to hear side by side, and keep me from recommending Dan Rico for just anybody.

Because not everybody can get into Dan Rico. If it’s not clear, Endless Love is a hodgepodge serving a niche. But if you fall into the niche of people who miss ’70s rock, which I often do, you’ll likely find a soft spot for this glorious oddball in your heart. And in your vinyl collection.

The post Dan Rico: Endless Love appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

The music is ambitious and boundless, and & I’m Fine Today is SUSTO’s best crack at it yet. You can see the growth in album art alone: while their 2014 self-titled debut’s album art took a crack at Nirvana’s Nevermind, & I’m Fine Today embodies the psychedelic style of the 60s with album art that begs to be owned on vinyl.

& I’m Fine Today is a collection of fine songs, but it’s also a collection of fine stories. Many songs on the record stand out for their songwriting finesse, but almost every one is memorable because of the story they tell. “Gay in the South” tells an obvious story, but it’s one that encapsulates the record: one where Jesus isn’t the centre of somebody’s being, but rather somebody that haunts them.

“They promised us: ’You are going straight to tell when you die.’ I don’t even think it’s a real place,” Osborne sings on “Gay in the South”. On “Waves”, he asks: “Is there anybody in there, smoking weed with God?” On & I’m Fine Today, the questions Osborne asks aren’t strictly personal anymore. Now, SUSTO is asking the questions of their generation about the reality of a higher power — and whether or not that higher power is a benevolent force if its believers are not.

On the other hand, if philosophical questions about God isn’t your style, this is an album with a song called “Cosmic Cowboy” on it. So despite the life questions, there’s still space for some fun and games.

If the album has any central messaging, it’s earliest mention is in “Waves”. “The sun comes up, the sun goes down, and that’s what it’s all about,” Osborne sings in the chorus. And on “Jah Werx”, the final track, the band sings “Jah werx, and I’m fine today” throughout the chorus. When the lyrics come together, & I’m Fine Today is about God, nature, the rising and falling tides of waves as the sun rises and sets, and the way everything returns to dust when it’s over no matter what you believe.

Musically, & I’m Fine Today is a wonder. From the far-out style of “Far Out Feeling” (no pun intended) to the layered production of “Wasted Mind”, the songwriting and engineering are impeccable. But even more impressive is the storytelling of the record. & I’m Fine Today is a captivating, exhilarating record, and an astounding sophomore attempt from SUSTO that catapults them to the top of the league.

The post SUSTO: & I’m Fine Today appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

I’m on record as being a huge Nine Inch Nails and Trent Reznor fan, but it’s hard not to acknowledge that the group’s last few records have either been formulaic or, in the case of Ghosts, different to the point of being occasionally uncomfortable. While Not the Actual Events is sometimes predictable, it often has a brashness and urgency to it that Reznor hasn’t had in a long time.

A quick listen to the alternately pulsing and attacking “Branches / Bones” reveals Reznor at his peak. “The Idea of You” is reminiscent of the angriest moments of With Teeth, but it goes beyond that and reminds me of The Downward Spiral’s most furious moments. And finally, “Burning Bright (Field on Fire)” mixes Black Sabbath-style ferocity with the curious meandering of “Right Where It Belongs” to create something that truly embodies a modern Reznor-ian sound.

Now we just have to wait for the actual event.

The post Nine Inch Nails: Not the Actual Events appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

But somehow, despite being reminiscent of indie darlings like Dirty Projectors, The Lemon Twigs have made an album that’s approachable despite its quirks. “I Wanna Prove to You” is one of my favourite songs of 2016; it’s an anthemic originality with an incredibly sing-along chorus. I took a road trip over Christmas, and there and back, my wife and I found ourselves hollering along with the chorus. (My brother-in-law and his girlfriend, understandably, thought we were slightly odd.)

Then there’s the majesty of “These Words” and the Beatles-esque simplicity of the piano-driven “How Lucky Am I?”. “Hi + Lo” has one of the most crowd-worthy choruses I’ve heard since Rah Rah’s “Art & a Wife”. The twenty-year-old version of me in college would have proudly proclaimed Do Hollywood as one of the best records of the post-Arcade Fire indie rock movement.

All that aside, what we’re left with here is a record that’s hard to make sense of. The duo puts music together in, shall we say, interesting ways. I’m often reminded of The Beatles while I listen to The Lemon Twigs — not because they sound similar, but because The Lemon Twigs have borrowed so much from the songwriting language of The Beatles without aping their actual sound.

As a result, The Lemon Twigs have a truly original record on their hands, and a unique sound that will serve them well for (hopefully) many albums to come. Miraculously, it just so happens that The Lemon Twigs have the ability to back up their inventiveness with great songwriting.

I couldn’t recommend Do Hollywood more if I wanted to. This is one of 2016’s hidden gems.

Photo by Brian W. Ferry.

The post The Lemon Twigs: Do Hollywood appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

With Scenes of the Tourist, Wall picks his guitar less frequently than he has in the past. Most of the songs heavily feature additional instruments — like the piano, or the electronic sounds of a keyboard.

Wall told me that the vision for Scenes of the Tourist began to crystallize when he moved in to a Brooklyn house with a piano and four experimental jazz/classical musicians. The new style suits Wall’s voice perfectly. As Wharfer, Wall has always had a unique voice among DIY folks groups. Reminiscent of Leonard Cohen, but without the seemingly pre-eminent age that Cohen’s voice came with.

But the new group expands what Wharfer’s voice is capable of by expanding the soundstage. Standout tracks like “Rye Wish” and “The Suitcase” have wider horizons than any of Wharfer’s previous material. The additions create a magical, ethereal quality there’s no way Wall could have created on his own.

Occasionally, some moments are laid back and simpler. “In the Old Magnolia Trees” has a guitar-focused tune, but even it turns into something more spacey by the end. The piano-focused tracks, like “Breeze (Since I Was Born)”, “Blue Lewis”, and “The Wild” all carry the same simplicity of previous Wharfer tracks, but the piano gives Wall’s voice a classical quality.

Nearly every track on the album is fantastic. It’s always an impressive feat when an artist is able to transition from one sound to another. With Scenes of the Tourist, Kyle Wall takes Wharfer in a direction that feels more ethereal and textural than he did previously. But he does all that without sacrificing his vision or his personality. As a result, while Scenes is a bigger record than Wharfer’s ever made, it still feels incredibly intimate and authentic.

I haven’t been able to stop listening to Scenes of the Tourist, an indie record that kickstarts 2017 in grandiose fashion.

Photo above by Justin Camerer.

The post Wharfer: Scenes of the Tourist appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Led Zeppelin recorded in mansions, but today’s rock progenitors are recording their music in barns.

But you can’t tell that Oliver Perry, otherwise known as D.D Dumbo, recorded his debut by a stable. There isn’t a single whinny anywhere on the record, and he’s not making country music.

What’s he making? I suspect only Perry knows.

D.Dumbo is hard to define, and harder still to contextualize. Songs like “Satan”, which is about a UFO landing and the aliens among them (who are unaware of our own concept of Satan), completely defy our expectations for songwriting. Partly inspired by video game music, and largely inspired by alt-rock prog-rock geniuses like Radiohead, D.Dumbo’s debut is hard to predict.

This isn’t just about the music, either. In case you haven’t gathered, the lyrics are equally strange. Perry is writing about the modern-day “paranoid androids” of our future, about the end of the world and the death of religious tradition. And if you asked him, he might tell you the future is a dystopian utopia — an unpredictable cacophony. That’s how I’d describe his vision of where we’re going. It’s also how I’d describe his music.

Take the really weird songs, like “King Franco Picasso”, which has an industrial beat and an Alt-J like flow from verse to chorus and bridge. I don’t really even know how to describe his music, although “alternative” seems like an appropriate enough label.

I’m a particularly huge fan of “The Day I First Found God”, which reminds me of Radiohead and U2 and modern worship music all at the same time. (It could easily be argued that U2 is modern worship music, so there’s that.)

It blows me away that this is D.Dumbo’s debut record. Musically, his ideas are fully fleshed — if bizarre — and lyrically, he’s got the whole world as his oyster. Utopia Defeated is one of the best albums I’ve heard this year, and certainly among the best debuts I’ve heard this year. I’m eager to hear where he goes next, but I’m also eager to listen to Utopia Defeated again.

There’s depth to every track on this record. That means the album isn’t easy to absorb on first go, but it’s worth repeated listens. It rewards them. If you want to be surprised by an album, and you want something you can sink your teeth into, look no further than D.Dumbo’s Utopia Defeated.

The post D.D Dumbo: Utopia Defeated appeared first on Unsung Sundays.