Bandcamp Hunter

In the spirit of music discovery, here are 10 of my favourite Bandcamp releases from the first half of the year with none being a Pick of the Week or a mixtape contributor. Hope you find a new musical crush in here. In chronological order then, from oldest to newest:

Another top shelf release from Baltimore’s Friends Records, Secret Mountains have got that smouldering shoegaze sound nailed - pounding rhythm, plenty of reverb and the amazing vocals of Kelly Laughlin combine to create a killer brace of psychedelic songs. Terrific sonic clarity to these songs, those guitars are towering. More please.

A startling debut from New Myths,the work of three girls from New York City. There’s great maturity and swagger to these songs, produced by the band themselves and veteran  Seth Glassman. Lower Dens are an apparent influence however New Myths forge their own distinct sound in these three songs-there’s a hardened post punk edge to the bands indie sound. Can’t help but feel this is a tantalising glimpse of something big.

This album continues to amaze, a display of supreme musicianship that’s wholly arresting. Released on the wonderful Three Lobed Recordings, these songs from Gunn-Truscinski Duo (guitarist Steve Gunn and percussionist John Truscinski) are absorbing musical journeys, winding psychedelic rock songs that explore various genres as the two improvise and build superb sonic structures. Deserves full attention at high volume.

It’s been a real thrill to discover eyes, wings and many other things this year and Napalm Beach was one my most anticpated releases. The album fully delivered, another stellar collection of cosmic psychedelic songs from the Dallas group. There’s an undercurrent of dread to the EWAMOT sound - hazy jams that float down ink black waters under a post apocalyptic sky. Blazing.

Lower Plenty seemed plenty surprised at the enthusiastic reaction to this EP-a heap of radio play and many a sold out gig-but they shouldn’t be. It doesn’t take much effort to become fond of this EP’s blend of bleary eyed folk pop and detached noise, the perfect soundtrack to the middle of a Melbourne year. There’s something of sunny suburbia to the Lower Plenty sound that is (I hate this phrase but it’s appropriate) uniquely Australian. A simple delight.

I intended writing an in depth review of this album but time conspired against me and in the end I decided I couldn’t do it justice anyway. This album from Canadian James Irwin speaks for itself as one of the finest singer songwriter albums to emerge in recent times. Irwin has a peculiar voice-sometimes sounding like M.Ward, sometimes like Skip Spence-and he applies some beautiful phrasing to his at times oblique lyrics. He can be poignant too-“Hearts Like Old Cars” is one of my favourite songs of the year, so sad and pretty. Irwin is a ghostly poet, no doubt, but it really is best for his words to speak for themselves : “It turns out you don’t know how to be poor. There’s only one way to learn. When you fall off the broken wheel, lie in the weeds and watch it burn.”

Another exciting discovery for me this year has been delving into the psychedelic semi-aquatic world of Panabrite (Norm Chambers). I loved the new album from Chambers though I was particularly intrigued by this collaboration with experimental musician Christian Richer. These are fascinating soundscapes that evoke images of the natural world through electronic and acoustic instrumentation, bubbling like a pixelated brook populated with so many shimmering holographic fish.

One of the real pleasures of running this blog for me is discovering a band and then watching their progress. Such is the case with Eidolons, a Portland band whose album from last year “Wolf Den” I was quite fond of. “China” is a progression from that album (superior production here) while sticking to the band strengths - smart indie pop with clever lyrics and infectious melodies. Cant wait to see what they do next,

I believe I found this album while at a point I sometimes find myself at with BCH - mindlessly hunting through Bandcamp and being totally disinterested in everything I find. The opening chords of this EP instantly hooked me and the drunken delivery of the slacker  lyrics had me sold. Great little lo-fi tunes from J, a mysterious cat from the Czech Republic. There’s such such a charming simplicity to these songs and I loved the touches of horn throughout. Plus it’s a free download.

The latest release from promising Brisbane label Lost Race Records is the psychedelic soundscapes of Caterpillar Hood, the side project of Cobwebbs. These hypnotic pieces are heavy with loops and distortion, at once disorientating and engaging. There’s something of Lee Noble to the pulsing drone and shimmering atmospherics of these tracks, seemingly borne of a dense hallucinogenic haze. Highly potent and terribly good.

It was Tuesday morning and I couldn’t sleep again so I rode to the park, the rim of my front wheel scraping on the pavement. I supposed I should inflate it but then, I’d be gone soon. The sky was bereft, a muddy grey of erstwhile stars. In a concrete mansion a couple were fighting or making love, but these are only small differences. The nature strips were flush with flowers or weeds, but these were only words. A streetlight was having a fever dream, its little burn waking on and off. It would do the same come the collapse of day and had so for years; no one could bother to fix it. 

Now it was lawn and the rim had bitten its way through cheap rubber, gathering and losing fingers of grass. I made wheelies in the soft dirt, spinning my body in figure eights till inevitably I fell. The earth was gentle, and I could hear the hum of chute-building worms. There was thunder in the distance or maybe it was a truck. I wiped a little blood from my knees, it smelled like summer. 

I decided to climb a tree so I could see the mountains. Toward the borderline of the park were haggard pines, carved with the names of long-gone lovers. Their branches were frail but if I balanced my weight perhaps I could reach the top without falling. I took off my slippers, but then there was a bear.

We had all heard of her and had seen the carnage of pets she left when rubbish bins failed to sustain her. On the first Sunday of spring the men gathered their shotguns and a hunt was held. Often someone young would claim they’d spotted and shot her, but I could see that her bulk was unscathed. She had to die for the bounty to be won, but it had been so many years that we’d forgotten how much it was for. For the sake of the festival, it was forbidden to attempt a kill at any other time of the year. We built our community around organised death.

She stood on her hind legs, and her stomach was a great swathe of ribs and flesh. I didn’t know if I should stand tall or play dead. She swayed from paw to paw, making low noises that were growls or greetings. I decided to stand. Perhaps it was the wrong choice, or she had already decided.

The blow caught the side of my face and then I’m not sure. There were crunching noises, leaves or bones. There was the wet smell of dawn or perhaps it was teeth. My body was rolled and heavy, a wreck of useless muscles against the enormity of space. I thought I saw my parents but they were holidaying at the ocean.

I woke to a scrape. My limbs were there. My scalp clung obstinately to my head, I still needed a haircut. In the first sun I could see the mountains, and in the distance, the dull scrape of rim on dirt as she rode my bike back into the forest.

*sometimes writing about why we like the music we do doesn’t suffice. This week the dark and beautiful web of Flouxetine Morning from Now Wakes The Sea motivated something a little different. Listen and see where it takes you. Huntress x