Away Team is the latest album from Nashville indie quartet Shell of a shell. This album is rife with tension, a very personal experience that’s built on depression and loneliness. You can hear it clearly on Chappy Hull’s strained vocals, as he seldom gets a moment of reprieve in this record, where everything is sung with a heavy dose of anxiety or scorn. Heart is kept on sleeve in his songwriting, and you can see the cuts and bruises along the way. The guitar work is stellar, it keeps quiet when it needs to but could go all out in a moment’s notice. There’s an unpredictability in Away Team’s song structures that will keep you into a false sense of security, where sections of quiet can suddenly erupt into rage and chaos in just a moment’s notice.

The opening song “Funny” starts with a ballad that carries a lot of heavy baggage. The loneliness and longing is palpable in its sparse instrumentation. Hull sings in a leisurely pace, ruminating on a “ghost of the past”. “Knock” comes in with erratic rhythm shifts and dynamic changes in volume. It’s restless start is contrasted by a rumbling breakdown of drums and ends with a serrated guitar hum.

“Fill in the Blank” starts slow and steady. Hull sings about trying and failing again and again, which is expressed by its seemingly lost and dejected pace. This slowly builds up and reaches a boiling point, culminating in a climactic cacophony of rage and chaos. Hull erupts in a lung-busting screech and the guitar and drums smash its head in a wall of noise. “Find Me a Field” is a slow ballad that’s haunted by a constant air of discord. There’s an unsettling feeling here that suggests something is about to go wrong, and someone is about to face his final moments in life.

Shell of a shell strays from its contemporaries in the final tracks of the album, opting to end on two lengthy epics in “Don’t Expect” and “Seems Like”, which runs at eight and ten minutes respectively. The first is an introspective slow burn, full of self doubt and anxiety. There’s a moment of rest in the middle where the guitars fall into a dreamy breakdown, before it ends in a bursting explosion of hardcore guitars and vocals. The second is the album’s central thesis. It starts as a soul-searching movement that develops gradually into a heavy torrent of emotions, making all tracks that came before look like a warm up (there’s also a sneaky jam stuck in there for good measure).

Away Team is a deeply vulnerable album, and you don’t even have to dig deep into the lyrics to empathize with its narrative. Every sonic element carries weight and adds it into the mix. It’s the kind of catharsis everyone needs in their life when they’re close to rock bottom. The kind of statement that tells you you’re not alone in your suffering, because I’m here too.

Peel Dream Magazine is the brainchild of New York based composer Joe Stevens. It features indie pop and shoegaze that’s heavily influenced by  Stereolab and My Bloody Valentine, with its 2018 debut Modern Music Meta Physic being mostly a solo endeavor.

In its sophomore album however, Peel Dream Magazine takes a step forward. Stevens is joined by friends in this collaborative effort. Agitprop Alterna was realized with the help of Kelly Winrich, Brian Alvarez (drums) and Jo-Anne Hyun (vocals). Hyun’s vocals are a huge part of this album, it ebbs and flows in combination with Stevens, and provides a much needed softness that elevates each track to an even dreamier state. 

The opener “Pill” is doused in a thick haze of distorted guitars and misty vocals. Its blurry rhythmic pace and hypnotic vocal chant portrays our tendency to accept what we’re being fed without question: “Tongue, pill, chew, It’s all I do, I do”. “Emotional Devotion Creator” follows in the same vein with it’s in-between-meditative-to-robotic vocal delivery. The droning static and punchy drums will lull you into a mesmerizing swirl of noise.

“NYC Illuminati” is an interesting one to dissect. Its ominous chorus, heavy reverb and vintage organs will take you to the depths of an underground cult society. This shares some similarities with “The Bertolt Brecht Society”, where stacks of layered vocals are intricately weaved together, sung like a hymn in a choir. Part prayer, poem and meditation, it pays homage to the poet and playwright of the same name.

Acoustic guitar parts make an appearance at the end of the album, creating a poppier vibe. In “Do It”, it blends with a blooming swirl of synths that coalesce like jellyfish swimming on top of the mix. The closing “Up and Up” is an emotional high for the whole album. Droplets of synths are interspersed with feel-good guitars and vocals to evoke a sense of flight. Bertolt is referenced again with Stevens declaring that: “There are answers that the theater will provide”. And true enough, some experiences that can only be felt through art, and this track is a testament to that.

Even with it’s clear influences to 90’s avante garde pop movements, Agitprop Alterna manages to stand on its own two feet. With modern production methods and the ails of our current societal climate, they’ve managed to craft a sound and message that combines the old and the new. The electronic and shoegaze work are stellar in this album, but the highlight for me is how the vocals are even more intricately crafted, as if arranged by a choral maestro. This album is perfect for cozy indoor listening, but there’s plenty of depth to be had for those who want to dig deep.

Silk Road is the second full length album and first studio venture for Oakland, CA based quartet Toner. Their sound has definitely hit its stride with this latest offering. Shades of glowing jangle are interspersed inside a wall distorted noise, with vocals carrying a laid-back, slacker vibe on the low end. The album follows bedroom pop and punk aesthetics, consisting of 10 songs in barely over 20 minutes. Each track’s ideas end before they are given any time to simmer, leaving you wistfully reaching out for more.

The first three tracks are what you would expect from the genre. “‘95 Slow” starts off sounding like a power pop anthem that’s doused in a thick dose of distortion while “Smoov” has tiny bits of jangle and tambourine making its way through a haze of heavy guitars. “Heaven’s Blade” is aggressive and sharp, closer to punk than anything in this album while still keeping the slacker vibe with the languid vocals.

Toner slowly shifts gears in the next tracks, and things get a bit more interesting. “Dark Ecstasy” is a standout in this whole collection, it goes into a more gloomier post-punk feeling. All of the warmth from the previous songs disappear in a thick distorted fog. “B.C. Hope” is the only time the tempo slows down. It starts in a more brooding cadence, before erupting into a cacophony of noise that ends as soon as you notice it.

“Old Heads” livens up the energy. It sings about how: “Every day is all the same / I’d rather be alone in my room”, an apt depiction of life under quarantine. “Cherry Plaza” is another hook-filled tune, which could easily pass as pop music except for the concrete walls of noise surrounding each corner.

“Always on Time” carries influences from alt-rock. Acoustic guitars are prominent in this one, it sounds like an Oasis tune with the volume ramped up and the vocals detuned. The album ends with “Heavy Glow”, which summarizes the other tracks that came before and wraps it in a bow. Glowing jangle and catchy lines are drowned in a dark cloud of noisy mist.

Silk Road will make you feel warm and fuzzy, and will keep your ears ringing and your head constantly bobbing. It’s a little bit on the short end and I would have loved to hear more. Still, it proves that Toner has evolved from its bedroom pop roots and is now solidified as a full-fledged band that’s making their own mark in the indie scene.

Empty Parks is the latest album from Pia Fraus. The band moves into a slightly different direction with this latest offering, featuring a poppier sound that’s bright and sweet, with scattered hints of melancholy. This album blends dream pop with glowing synths, shoegaze and blissful electronica, with a narrative carried by stacked male-female vocals. I get a kind of floral vibe while listening to the album, Pia Fraus manages to create something that feels deeply in tune with nature despite the heavy use of electronic and synth instruments.

Empty Parks moves just like a dream, and it’s easy to get lost in its 45 min runtime. It’s 11 tracks seemingly congeal into a single narrative. Every track flows seamlessly with subtle differences. “Hidden Parks” relies on heavy use of guitar and strings to engulf you in a cinematic dreamworld. “Love Sports” teeters in and out of rhythm, which adds a dash of hesitation to its bright melody. “Slow Boat Fades Out” is a relaxing cruise that slowly dives into loneliness.

There are a few faster tracks that liven up the pace, but it still carries the same floaty theme. “Mr. Land Freezer” has heavier drums and guitars with a tempo that reminds me of a train ride that moves quickly while its passengers are lounging in place. “Paper Flower Projects” carries the most urgency in this album, a song that pleads in near-desperation with the line: “We must stay together / I don’t want to be alone again”.

Other standouts here are “The New Water” with it’s hazy, washed-up water color feel. The vocals evoke a cool breeze as it asks the question: “Where do you come from? / May I come with you?”. “Nice and Clever” is enveloped in a thicker cloud of synth swells, with the occasional glowing hint of sunshine that just peeks in and out of view. 

While other similar bands use effects and synths as a major selling point, Pia Fraus carefully adds these as little details to elevate the song. Each element blends so well that it’s hard to recognize where one instrument ends and another begins. This is no doubt due to the production and mixing of John McEntire, who is one of the most important figures in the indie scene since the nineties.

Empty Parks is a homecoming of sorts for the band, who reunites with older members in this new album, and it reflects on this record. It evokes the joy of reuniting with an old friend. It’s a positive and comforting companion to have during these trying times. A cup of tea and a warm blanket of sound is something we could all use.

Neighbors You Know is a collaboration project between Vinnie Chrisostomo and friends. The Chicago based indie band released their first LP See You Out There in late 2019. You’ll get what you expect out of a lo-fi indie debut — it’s grounded, laid back and an easy listen through and through, with bright melodies and a generous dose of melancholy. Chrisostomo’s vocals are  soft and sincere, and moves in a lower range, which is well complemented by the gentle backing vocals of co-songwriters Rachel Bast and Elzbieta Mulica. One thing that gives Neighbors You Know their unique character is how varied their melodies and arrangements are, as every one of its eight tracks has a slightly different feel. 

The first track “Familiar” is an ode to the simple things. A wailing guitar riff carries the emotion throughout the track. It carefully blends in with the vocals, as Crisostomo sings about the joy of going back to the familiarity of home. 

“Worth It” starts with a solid bass line groove, which is then followed by simple stabs of guitar chords and a harmony of voices. It’s a song about surviving adversity and looking back to see that it’s all for a good reason. It’s cool to hear how each instrument fits in without occupying too much space, instead they compliment each other to create a full sound that’s greater than the  sum of its parts.  

“Something Better” is smooth and relaxing, with influences from surf pop. It’s warm melody and catchy guitar solo will mislead you into thinking that it’s all sunshine and daisies, but it’s actually about someone beating themselves up for staying in their comfort zone, with the nagging awareness that they can do so much more. 

“Wave Goodbye” is steeped in nostalgia and melancholy, headlined by a catchy lead riff and heavy rhythm guitars. There’s a string of vocals in the background that sounds like a gentle sigh. It feels like going through memories with an old friend before saying goodbye. 

The title track closes out the album with a stripped down demo that feels like it came out of a box of memorabilia. It’s minimalist production gives it a relatable charm that’s the staple of bedroom pop.

See You Out There is a promising debut, it knows its own strengths and uses it to full advantage. There is beauty in simplicity, and despite having a lo-fi tag, there isn’t any harshness or blurring in any of its production. This makes each song’s emotion easily conveyed, with the charm and relatability that comes from a place of genuine expression. 

The Chicago based trio Mayor for Life has just released their first LP entitled “This Could Have Been Avoided”. This project has been a long time coming, with the recording process spanning almost three years and it’s writing process running even longer. This album may have gone through adversity and delays but it is all worth it in the end. The band explores a lot of styles in this album. Their sound is not set in stone, instead they follow an almost free-form approach, but the main string that connects each track is its high energy, filled with animosity and frustration, the kind of rock that will raise you off of your seat and urge you to scream and jump. 

It starts with “Potential Difference”, a song that narrates an aeronautic disaster similar to that of the Hindenburg. Screeching guitars fill the air, while the hook: “Fire in the Sky!” engulfs us in an inescapable heat. “Bury Me With My Gun” moves gears into hardcore with abrasive riffs and rumbling drums. The vocals shift to a different character, now being yelled at full lung capacity. 

The band morphs again at “Everything Is Free”, this time into noise rock territory with unexpected rhythm shifts and emotive guitar riffs ala math rock. A mesmerizing lament on how technology has made aspects of life less valuable. 

“Sinking Feeling” swings in with a languid attitude. The vocals are narrated, almost like a sermon in a post-hardcore cathedral. Another standout track with its dark and brooding riffs and stabbing rhythmic flourishes.

At the tail end of the album, the noise ramps up to another notch, and we’re fully committed into hardcore. “Bockscar” is harsh and sharp, the kind of romp that would urge you to stick your elbows out and raise your fists on a mosh pit. Followed by “Broadcast”, which is rage and chaos distilled in a 3 minute explosion.

Just when you thought the band couldn’t be more versatile, the album ends with an instrumental. “Rewound” is foreboding and gloomy, a shoegaze-y and industrial wail that’s topped off with subtle synth sounds.

Mayor for Life consists of members Rich Fessler on bass, Todd Rabideau on guitars and Dan Wagner on drums, with each member having a shared role on vocals. This probably explains the variety in this album, where each one chips in as creative lead, or it could also be a result of the decade-long compilation of favorites. Either way, “This Could Have Been Avoided” is a great outlet to vent out all of your frustrations with, especially in this age of pandemic, where disaster and tragedy is a new norm.