Last month we tried to order a new writer to pen a fake Bible from the perspective of roller derby girl but the job company shipped us a music critic by mistake. We felt bad that the guy spent 57 hours in a box en route to our offices, so we let him write one piece before shipping him back to Omsk.
By glennmacaulay.com music critic, Julian Lapterjunsting
Here’s what I’ll be jamming to this month when I hitch up to Alaska for HOLY MOLY AuthntcFstvl this coming July. My tastes are very complex and these tracks are challenging but I believe that when ingested together they form a nihilistic pattern that could be interpreted as a hyper-common argument. Enjoy!
This Irish singer/slapper mixes hazy west coast post-dream drone with utter disdain for the bass clef (for once). I love the uplifting message and the understated whale winds she weaves from textures based around the idea of unlimited holidays.
The Dog Ate My… To Be Continued
This is what it would sound like if The Ramones traded their guitars for a Fellini film during softball season in rural Georgia in 1968. This is the perfect soundtrack for a chess picnic in June, minus the rain and undeniable circumstance.
What begins as a lesson in baroque clang, ends with a nod to the hollowness prevalent in 90’s-era stop ‘n go. With each chorus, Aunt calls for a new instigation of truth backed by throbbing rhythms, while the listener can’t help but respond by urging, “solve me!”.
Bushy-headed prank slop from three Rhode Island teens who don’t nod to their influences so much as babysit them. The pubescent relentlessness raises questions about ethics in our caustic attitude toward “the new normal” but somehow it works, backed by Cody Nubbles’ otherworldly vocals and drummer Daryl Invicta’s two-three-nine patterns and drop stings.