In honor of tonight’s pink moon, here’s Nick Drake’s Pink Moon.
In honor of tonight’s pink moon, here’s Nick Drake’s Pink Moon.
We could make veiled references to their skill and potential, but it seems best for all parties involved to just say how we feel: Frenship is going to be huge.
They’re fresh off a residency at Resident (ha) and played a romp of a set at the inaugural Music and Tacos event in Beverly Hills. You can still catch their last show with LiveNation on 4/27, but in the meantime, it’s only right that you blare their new single Capsize featuring the sublime Emily Warren.
…for your breakup with the weekend. Somber and haunting–just like Monday.
It’s only April, but here in Los Angeles, summer has arrived. While the rat race never comes to a complete halt, this mad mad mad mad world has certainly slowed its roll as if to usher in that famous summer mindset that draws the masses westward.
But when summer comes, no matter how early, so do summer playlists. Enter Brooklyn-based indie-poppers Stone Cold Fox. Finding the hallowed ground between leisurely dog days and electrifying nights, Morning Light establishes itself as the go-to slow-groove for summers in the city.
Check it out below and blast it at your next string-lit rooftop party.
They have only two songs available to the masses, but in them The Federal Empire have tapped in to the deepest desires of our hearts (unless, of course, your deepest desires are like mine: pizza).
Hemingway may have implored us to “shun the epic,” but we just haven’t been able to stop pining for it.
There have been articles and studies, lectures and TED Talks about our cravings for the grand. They say we naturally tend toward movies and books and music that inspire us to climb mountains and run marathons and get up off the couch and make something of yourself–you could have been a doctor!
But with their rollicking anthems, The Federal Empire give us a taste of satisfaction. The Americana-influenced Never Saw it Coming and soon-to-be break up anthem I Never Liked Your Friends are the kind of three minute adventures that tide us over between our trips to Morocco and big-time career advances.
One can’t be too surprised that The Federal Empire are so compelling fresh out the gate. This ain’t their first rodeo. McKay Stevens is a Grammy nominated writer, Keith Varon is an accomplished singer-songwriter (Laguna Beach fans, ‘memba him?), and Chad Wolf helped heal your broken heart as the front man for Carolina Liar.
These are seasoned professionals, people. And you’ve got history.
They played a few shows at Sundance and a few more down the west coast, but currently The Federal Empire’s tunes are only available through Soundcloud. Click on through for some spine-tingling, hope-inspiring, alternative Americana rock and keep an eye on their social media for updates.
Miss Lukas Graham’s 7 Years in all the holiday hubbub? Listen to the slice-of-life epic now!
Coast Modern may only have one song available to the masses, but their hit, Hollow Life, is that special kind of magic that keeps music fans foaming at the mouth. So, while we await more music, more information, and just more, more, more, we give you… a poem!
Oh, Coast Modern! You must give us more!
To listen to you is never a chore.
There’s no one around that does what you do
With as interesting a sound as you.
You’ve reggae and pop–did I hear a steel drum?
Beating between your electronic strums?
You’re the sound of a secret island rave,
Vibrations and harmony crash like waves.
We know we just met and it sounds like a bluff,
But is it too soon to speak of love?
I have an unfounded prejudice against musical competitions. They repel me with the same force as late night infomercials and skincare pyramid schemes. Over the years, I have come to realize that this prejudice is out of step with my lifelong advocacy for nepotism and that I must call my hypocrisy what it is. Who am I to judge what road a musician takes on his crusade for compensation? Even so, my nasty underlying bias still lumps contestants together into a second-class genre. And while I’m ashamed to admit it, my first brush with Declan McKenna was, indeed, through this depraved bigotry.
It’s not like it was even The X-Factor (you just saw X-Files, didn’t you?). Declan’s contest of choice was the 2015 Glastonbury Festival’s Emerging Talent Competition, and his victory earned him a slot in the festival.
“Good on that young chap for throwing his hat in the ring,” a normal, secure person might say.
Yet there I was, looking for reasons not to like the sixteen year old Londoner. I ransacked his music searching for corners he’d cut and ways his age betrayed him.
But, lo and behold, I came up empty handed.
And I couldn’t be happier.
Declan knows how to harness his raw talent in a way that sets him apart from the industry’s other gifted youngsters. Sharpening his boyish charm with a keen eye and raspy voice, Declan sobers his playful compositions with, well, reality. Take his most popular offering, Brazil: an insightful indictment of the 2014 FIFA World Cup. Here, he marries his passion for politics with an innate grasp of indie-pop to revive protest music in a way that could take the genre from its longtime home in university courtyards to top forty radio stations.
…all the while, artists twice his age still sing about big booties.
Okay, that’s not fair.
Maybe the music industry needs big booties.
But Declan’s social commentary expects more from its listener. The chiptune-peppered Paracetamol, for instance, depicts the unbearably intense emotional climate weathered by today’s youth. Both within and without his generation’s strange brand of adolescence, Declan paints a picture with peer’s precision and analyst’s perspective that gives weight to subject matter we “evolved” adults might otherwise disregard.
He’s a fully formed artist whose further maturation promises to supersede even the greatest expectation. Weaving romance, activism, and silvery guitar into the indie-pop tapestry, Declan elevates both the art form and the bar for newcomers and veterans, alike.
So, while I hoped it wouldn’t come this, it must be said:
Declan McKenna is good for his age.
Because Declan McKenna is good for any age.
Be sure to check out his Bandcamp here.
The name Bipolar Sunshine elicits some sort of indefinable expectation. When it stands alone, no musical frame of reference in earshot, it raises eyebrows as it sits inert on the cusp of affectation. In light of Manchester-native Adio Marchant’s complex and protean compositions, however, Bipolar Sunshine is the only description that fits the once Kid British vocalist’s rich and ambient alternative hip hop.
His music has a supernatural quality (like a foggy twilight) ever-so-slightly evoking the bewitching, dream-like works of Alt-J and The XX. This union of mysterious whimsy and lyrical cadence – more closely related to spoken word than rap – begets striking electric anthems that beckon trendy twenty-somethings to dance floors, to road trips, and deeper into thought.
They say anyone can write one book (we disagree, but for the sake of the article…), but that it takes an artist to write two. Perhaps the same principle applies to musicians. Simmer on the fact, then, that our prolific eccentric, Bipolar Sunshine, has released five EPs in the last two years.
So while you await his first full length album with abated breath, click on over to his SoundCloud to get better acquainted.