White Flowers – Dreams For Somebody Else

White Flowers have been an obsession of mine for some time now. It started with that ‘Night Drive’ single that I hunted for all over the internet. When I last wrote about the Preston duo back in 2021, it was for their Within a Dream EP, a four-song collection that placed Katie Drew and Joey Cobb somewhere between post punk shadow, dream pop glow and shoegaze haze. Even then, their sound felt highly defined. In 2022 I got to see them live for the first time as they supported Just Mustard in a tiny basement in Glasgow. Their set was so powerful it was hard to believe there was only two people on stage.

Five years on, they return with a new album. Dreams For Somebody Else feels like White Flowers expanding on that intimate sound they honed back then while keeping the lights down low. Cobb and Drew have been working together since they were 17, gathering small ideas, fragments and recordings over time, then returning to them when life has changed enough to hear them properly. Their debut album Day By Day arrived in 2021 during that strange suspended pandemic period, and the years since have taken them through exhaustion, touring, questions about why they were doing any of it, and then the strange encouragement of being asked to support Beach House. Now they return with Al Doyle of LCD Soundsystem helping shape the record, which feels fitting for an album that looks toward dance music while keeping one foot in dream pop melancholy.

The album also carries a clear literary thread through it, with Annie Ernaux’s The Years sitting close to the heart of how White Flowers think about memory, identity and time. Ernaux’s book pieces a life together through fragments, images, sensations and cultural markers, creating the feeling of someone watching their own existence from a slight distance. Cobb says.

“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else. There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore.”

‘Spinning’ opens the album with that exact sensation. Synth notes glimmer at the front, small points of light against a wider wash, before guitar and bass begin to thicken the shape of the song. Drew’s vocal sits close to the surface, calm but marked by sadness, and the music keeps turning beneath her. It sets up the album’s central mood straight away. This is something new for sure but unmistakably White Flowers.

‘Heaven’ steps forward with a warmer glow. Things open up, and there is a softness to Drew’s voice that makes the song feel intimate. It has brightness in it that immediately shifts the mood. White Flowers have always understood how to place beauty inside a slightly haunted frame, and you can hear that here. The synths shimmer, the vocal remains gentle, and the song gives the album its first clear glimpse of hope without sanding away the ache underneath.

By the time ‘Backseat’ arrives, the record turns its gaze toward isolation in a more direct way. The opening line “I’m always watching from the back seat” says so much with very little. The albums’ theme of disassociation given a new light. The track moves with a sense of contained pressure. Whilst the motorik rhythm suggests travel, the vocal keeps returning to the same emotional seat, watching life through glass. I really like how the song avoids over explaining the feeling. It lets the image do the work, and that makes it hit harder.

‘Tear’ brings a more fragile pull to the record. Coming after the social distance of ‘Backseat’, it feels like the private moment after you get home and replay every small look, every word, every silence. The arrangement feels like it is built around the idea of something slowly giving way. The voice sits inside the synths and guitars rather than above them, which suits the album’s recurring sense of identity becoming blurred by memory. The drums feel like they’re built for the dance floor and as the song goes on the bass does too. The juxtaposition of the fragile lyric and vocal against that neon-soaked rhythm section is quite stark and packs a real punch.

After the night club we retreat with the acoustic warmth of ‘Lamp’ is one of those shorter pieces that can say plenty because it keeps its frame tight. The title gives you the image straight away, a small source of light in a dark room, and the song seems to understand that kind of scale. It doesn’t need to stretch out to make its point. It works as a little pool of illumination on the album, intimate but lonely. Cobb and Drew have a good instinct for sequencing, and ‘Lamp’ gives you a moment to breathe before the album moves into one of its largest emotional spaces.

That space arrives with ‘Heart Breaks’, which feels like a centrepiece. It has that pulsing melancholy that the band say you might associate with New Order, where the bassline keeps moving with purpose while the mood sits heavy across the shoulders. I think there’s a bit of Arcade Fire about that pulse. What gets me is the way it can suggest something beautiful, with images of green grass and blue skies, then fold back into loss. The extended ending gives you time to sit with that change. This is without doubt my album standout moment.

‘Visual’ sharpens the album’s anxious edge. The looped structure becomes more intense here, and the repetition starts to feel itchy and less comforting, more like a thought you cannot switch off. White Flowers are very good at using pretty sounds to explore uneasy states, and ‘Visual’ carries that idea right into the nervous system. The synths and percussion move in circles, the vocal seems caught inside the pattern, and the song creates a strange mixture of beauty and alarm. This is one of Drews most dynamic vocal performances and it really suits the song. It’s one of the places where the album’s dance influence feels less like release and more like compulsion.

‘In The Sky’ lifts the record again, though in a way that still feels slightly out of reach. This track feels lighter, more suspended, with the title hinting at distance and escape. White Flowers never make escape sound simple. Their music often reaches upward while the emotional weight remains present below, and that is what gives these songs their character. The use of an acoustic drum kit here also adds a sense of reality which again shows this band playing with juxtaposition to great effect.

The title track, ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, brings the album’s ideas into focus. The phrase itself is a beauty. It suggests longing, memory, envy, disconnection and tenderness all at once. The synth tones are warm and uplifting, drums cold and almost like that old Casiotone sound. White Flowers turn the title into a feeling of emotional misplacement, where your own past looks familiar and distant at the same time.

‘Thinking Of You’ closes the album with a tender ache. This was the song specifically inspired by an LCD Soundsystem set at Primavera back in 2017, and with Al Doyle involved in the album, there is a lovely circularity to how it all comes together. The track uses layered vocals to create a sense of memory multiplying, as if one voice has become several versions of itself. The question “If I see you again, would you see right through me?” is such a quietly devastating line because it holds recognition and disappearance in the same breath. As a closer, it leaves the album with sadness, but also with hope.

What lingers after Dreams For Somebody Else is the way White Flowers make the repetition in their music reflect their human experience. These loops and phrases feel like memories returning at odd hours, like old diary pages read by older eyes, like a dancefloor moment that becomes meaningful years later because your life finally caught up with it. Cobb and Drew have made a second album that widens their sound without losing the private atmosphere that made them so intriguing in the first place. It has synths that pulse, guitars that glow at the edges, vocals that feel close enough to touch, and songs that understand how strange it is to live inside a changing self. White Flowers have made a record for anyone who has looked back and wondered whose life they were remembering. Maybe some dreams just need a wee bit of time before they find out who they were for.

Dreams For Somebody Else is out now on vinyl and CD via The state51 Conspiracy. You can check it out over on the White Flowers Bandcamp page.

You can follow White Flowers on social media here…

Guest Directors – Before You Get Broken

Having already spent time with Guest Directors on these pages, it feels good to come back to them at a point where the band sound so sure of their own sound. This is a group with deep musical history in their bones. Julie D brings guitar, vocals and piano, Gary Thorstensen brings guitar and vocals, Rian Turner brings drums, percussion and guitar, and Charlie Russo holds down the bass. On paper, those roots reach back through Seattle noise rock, San Diego math groove, indie rock, shoegaze, power pop and 60s folk rock. Before You Get Broken sounds like a band distilling instinct, memory, friendship and a hard-earned taste into songs that know when to shimmer and when to let the amps do the talking.

This is a guitar record with a lot happening in the margins. You hear the lines crossing in the headphones, the bass finding small pockets of movement, the drums keeping the songs alert, and the vocals sitting inside the weather of the music rather than posing in front of it. Just as it should be. Let’s dive in.

‘Meet You on the Land’ opens the record with that lovely sense of jangle being stretched through delay until the edges start to glow. The song has a strange fairytale charge to it, built around the idea of a mermaid refusing the old script and keeping her own sense of self intact. The guitars ring out with a bright, glassy movement, the rhythm section keeps everything moving with a steady pulse, and the vocal sits in that sweet spot where melody and texture become part of the same thing.

‘You Are Never’ brings a sharper body movement into the record. There is a swagger here, a cool sideways step that lets the guitars feel lean and wiry rather than massive. The track has that 90s alternative rock nerve running through it, with a hint of Sonic Youth in the angles. The drums give it lift without crowding the guitars, and the bass moves with real intent underneath. The track trucks along with confidence, and by the time the dual vocals settle into the centre of the mix, you discover this band are way more than the sum of their influences.

We move into post punk territory next with the clipped, direct attack of ‘Now I Know’. The guitars still carry the Guest Directors fingerprint, full of tone and movement, yet the song has a more pointed shape. The rhythm has a tight forward push, and the vocal delivery gives the track a clear emotional spine. It sounds alert, almost suspicious, as if every line is being measured before it leaves the mouth. This song is darker in tone and the band adapt their performances to suit.

‘Just Not Today’ is a more straightforward alt rock number. Guitars lean into those riffs with glee. They rub together, spark up, and then open out into wider shapes without losing the song underneath. Thorstensen’s vocal presence gives the track a different grain, and that shift keeps the album moving with a human sense of variety. The chorus feels built for volume, with enough melody to keep it lodged in your head and enough grit to make it worth turning up.

The band lower the lights next with ‘So Many Somedays’ lowers the lights, giving the album one of its warmest turns. The title alone carries a lot of weight, that familiar pile up of delayed decisions, half made promises, and little hopes waiting for the right moment. The music understands that feeling. The guitars are gentler here, and there’s a harpsichord which adds a softened glow. The vocal performance has a close, reflective quality that pulls you nearer to the speakers. What I like most is the patience. Guest Directors let the bloom, and the slower pace lets you notice how carefully the parts have been placed. There is still texture all around it, yet the centre feels tender and plain spoken. It gives the first half of the album a proper emotional pause.

‘Restore Your Soul’ arrives with a firmer kick. This one has a heavier alt rock shape, with the guitars carrying more muscle and the rhythm section giving the song a grounded push. The vocal has a tired, almost weary quality, which suits a song that feels concerned with pressure, control and the attempt to regain some kind of inner balance. There are small details in the guitar work and percussion that keep it moving, evolving and your head nodding.

The shimmer returns on ‘Blame Pandora’, and it does so with a lovely sense of motion. The drums have a lot of character here, full of careful accents and small rhythmic turns that make the song feel restless in the best way. The guitars slide across the top with a cleaner shine before the track grows more frayed around the middle. The title hints at curiosity, consequence and the mess that follows once certain boxes have been opened. Musically, it has that same feeling, as if the track keeps finding new rooms inside itself.

‘At the Gate’ gives the album another slower, moodier stretch. The song has a patient mid-tempo feel, and the vocal melody moves with an understated clarity that suits the atmosphere around it. I found myself paying close attention to the jazzy guitar work on this one. There is a solo that steps out beautifully, full of tone and feeling without tipping into flash. Whilst they have the background and skill to overplay at any moment, they keep choosing the song instead. A skill a lot of bands would do well to acquire.

‘What Shapes They Take’ closes the record with the band stretching out into a swirl of guitars, rhythm and strange colour. It has the sense of a final statement but it’s not in any way heavy handed. The guitars move in broad circles, at points taking on a sharp, almost psychedelic sitar like tone, while the vocals guide the song through its extended shape. You’re left with a demonstration of the full range of what this band do well, from melody to volume, from texture to momentum. Take a bow!

Before You Get Broken works because Guest Directors sound comfortable with complexity and generous with melody. They carry a lot of history between them, and they use that history as fuel rather than a crutch. You can hear Seattle guitar music in the grain, you can hear shoegaze in the blurred edges, you can hear power pop in the melodic lift, and you can hear folk rock in the way certain songs value feeling over technical display. Most of all, you hear a band that knows itself. These songs have weight, wit, patience and bite, and they ask you to listen closely to the shapes that appear once the noise settles into focus. Before You Get Broken is the sound of Guest Directors bending beautifully without breaking.

Before You Get Broken is out now on vinyl and CD via Topsy Records. You can check it out over on the Guest Directors Bandcamp page.

You can follow Guest Directors on social media here…

Silk – Auralux

Silk ain’t new to you regulars at the Static Sounds Club house. Michael Smyth was already firmly lodged in our brains through his previous project Virgins, a band I have shouted about plenty, and when ‘Faze’ landed as a premiere here it felt bigger than a side project didn’t it? It sounded like a something new altogether. Heavier guitars, vocals pushed down into the glow, fuzz piled high, and that sense of melody sitting under all the noise. Then came ‘but then, yes’, darker and more patient, with AJ Das adding a voice that made the song feel intimate and uneasy. Silk arrived quickly, then began to take root properly.

Those roots have now grown into Auralux, the debut mini album. Smyth remains the sole contributor at the centre of it, writing, performing and recording the music himself, and that gives these songs a very personal charge. The scale is huge, with guitars stacked until they feel almost architectural, yet the human thread running through the record feels close enough to reach out and touch. Mortality, memory, loss, love and time sit inside these songs, and Smyth has spoken about that urge to spend the time he has left making something joyful. Auralux sounds like a musician taking the idea of time seriously and refusing to waste any of it. The three singles from 2025 gave us the first flashes of the project and now these six tracks together feel like the first full statement from an artist who has found the shape of their garden and filled every inch of it with sound. I like the fact this arrives as a mini album too. It feels like a document of this first period, a marker laid down before the next big thing begins to loom on the horizon. Smyth describes it like this.

‘Auralux’ is full of texture from the celestial and euphoric to the dark and dense as it creates a palpable atmosphere for the listener to reveal in.”

The title track opens the album in a wash of shimmering guitars, layered together until the opening seconds feel almost choral. There is beauty in the way the sound gathers, and then the drums arrive with a physical jolt. Fuzz pours across the track in thick slabs, while the vocals sit low in the mix, treated as another source of colour inside the noise. The verse has that call and response feel between voice and guitar, with Smyth singing “keep me out of heaven / it’s just another place” as the guitars answer back in slow flashes. The chorus then grows into something massive, with fuzz piled sky high and bright lead lines pushing through the haze. It has the classic shoegaze trick of sounding euphoric and wounded at the same time, and that makes the title track a strong opening statement.

By the time ‘Clementine’ tears in, the speakers have very little room left to plead for mercy. This was the lead single that showed Silk moving into darker and more abrasive territory, and in the context of the album it feels like the first real sink into the deep end. The guitars are thick enough to feel almost solid, pummelling drums hold the centre, and the bass gives the whole thing a gnarly melodic pull beneath the vocal line. Modulated reverbs wrap around the lead guitar parts, making them bloom and bend at the edges, while the chorus opens wide with a strange, cinematic force. The song takes inspiration from the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and you can hear that in the way it deals with memory as something unstable and tender. The vocal melody carries the track through the fog, hooky enough to follow, buried enough to feel like you are chasing it.

‘July’ holds a special place in the Silk story, because this was the first song written specifically for the project. The album version has been re-recorded and remixed, and that extra focus gives it a sharper shape. It leans into a more classic shoegaze feel, bringing the chorus forward early and letting the guitars wash across it in broad waves. The lead line has a melancholy pull that sits close to the vocal, almost shadowing it, while tremolo parts rise out of the verse like lights appearing in fog. There are little guitar cries behind the bridge work that sound like signals being sent from somewhere distant, and the drums keep the track moving with a steady pulse.

When the record flips into ‘Slide Away’, the mood becomes heavier again, and this time the weight comes with extra voices in the room. Shane McMullan, who plays bass in the live band, contributes bass here, while Taylor Wright from Scottish heavy gazers Sunstinger adds response vocals in the chorus and takes the third verse. That detail made my ears prick up straight away, partly because Sunstinger are local to me and fucking magic, and partly because the added vocal presence gives the song a USP. ‘Slide Away’ moves through desire, self-preservation and the brittle nature of connection, and the music mirrors that theme with verses that pull inward before the chorus presses down hard. When Wright’s voice enters, the whole thing opens out in a way that feels bruised and beautifully human. Cracking number this.

The oldest piece on the release, ‘August’, sits beside ‘Slide Away’ as one of the heaviest moments on the record. Huge fuzz guitars are underpinned by bass chords that feel ready to test how strong the fillings in your teeth are. The whole track carries a comforting pressure that creeps up on you. It is a brilliant image of beauty staying out of reach, close enough to torment, distant enough to make you tired. A single note lead guitar wails through the haze in the chorus, cutting through the thickness with a sound that feels almost desperate. For a song written before Silk fully existed, ‘August’ fits the album with surprising force.

After the density of the previous two tracks, ‘Pleasures’ gives the record a final lift. The guitars still carry distortion, but the mood opens with the simple chorus refrain offering a sweet and very welcome release. Bright at the edges and strange at the centre. Smyth says you can hear a touch of Siamese Dream era Pumpkins in the size of the guitars and the reach of the solo. I have to ask though, are solos allowed in shoegaze? On this evidence, oh yes please. The track keeps one foot in the poppier end of My Bloody Valentine while leaning into a more alt rock shape, and it makes for a closer that feels most generous after all the earlier bruising. The fade feels like it could carry on for ages, leaving you with the sense that Silk has found a way to end the record by maybe pointing towards whatever comes next.

By the time ‘Pleasures’ fades, Auralux has done what the best debut albums should do. It gives you enough history to understand where Silk came from, enough beautiful noise to know exactly where Smyth wants to take it, and enough feeling to make you care about every layer of fuzz and reverb on the way. These songs sound personal because they are personal, shaped by one person chasing a sound as an act of survival, joy and release. This record can bruise, it can glow, it can crush your speakers, and it can leave a small melody turning over in your head long after the noise has gone. Silk has made a debut with weight, warmth and purpose. Auralux trulyearns the glow in its name.

Auralux is released on vinyl May 7 2026 via Blowtorch Records. You can check it out over on the Silk Bandcamp page.

You can follow Silk on social media here…

Photo Credit

annalogue

Shoplifting – All The Things We Lost Last Year

I really love the bedroom pop sound. That lo-fi hiss, wow and flutter that evokes time spent hunched over a 4 track with the bare minimum of equipment. So, when I received an email that opened with “I just finished this album made fully on Nintendo DS and thought you would appreciate it.” You just know I had to explore it.

You get a strong sense with Shoplifting that they too have the same passion. Shoplifting is the project of one Jamie Penn. You’ve probably crossed paths with his work before if you’ve been paying attention to the DIY emo and shoegaze crossover bubbling up in recent years. What started as a necessity after band life fell apart has grown into something deeply personal, with Penn building songs piece by piece with whatever tools he could get his hands on.

That history sits right at the centre of All The Things We Lost Last Year, a record shaped as much by its creation process as the emotions that run through it. Losing the Nintendo DS that held so much of this material could have ended the project right there, yet what you hear now feels even more considered, almost like each track has been pulled back from the brink and given a second life.

Penn himself summed up that instinct to keep going when in a recent interview he said, “Anything is better than nothing… sometimes you can be overly critical of yourself.” That balancing act between holding on and letting go threads its way through the whole album.

Let’s hit play and see where we go.

‘Again’ opens things with the blueprint for the Shoplifting sound. Washed out drums, a Casio tone keyboard riff and subdued vocal delivery. This was my intro to the band and I was hooked immediately. Its sugar sweet melody is pure ear candy and has been a favourite of mine since that first listen. You may even have heard it on my April DKFM show. What a great start.

With ‘Spider’, the tone shifts into something moodier, tighter and more focused. The guitar lines lock into each other in a way that hints at Penn’s math rock roots, while the modulated vocal sits just above the mix. The novel scratches, squeaks and bleeps that punctuate the track give it a weird, nervous energy I gravitate towards.

‘2 Think’ keeps things concise, almost to the point where it feels like a sketch that has been left intentionally incomplete. That brevity works in its favour. The melodies arrive quickly, that modulated vocal is almost a texture, over the wonky guitar and child’s piano sound. Its really lovely, almost like a lullaby.

The first interlude, ‘Illness (lost interlude I)’, acts as a quiet pause. It leans into the lo-fi aesthetic more heavily, with textures that feel almost like an old ZX Spectrum loading screen.

‘New Room’ brings things back into focus with a warmer tone. There is a sense of rebuilding here, both musically and emotionally. The guitars feel more open, more real. The vocals again are saturated and pitched way up. Against that organic acoustic guitar, they sound almost alien. The closing minute sounds wonderfully epic in a miniature way.

We’re playing on that DS next with ‘Tekken 4’. On this one the guitars take on as much of percussive part as the drums, which are almost at drum ‘n’ bass speed at one point. It’s an atmospheric track that is over before its even begun.

‘Social (lost interlude II)’ follows as another brief moment of reflection. It carries a slightly darker tone than the first interlude, with a sense of distance that contrasts with the warmth of the surrounding tracks. The loops slowly build over its short run until it just fizzles out.

‘Foxes’ comes in quick and sharp. The pacing here gives it a jittery energy, with the guitar and bass almost tripping over themselves as they push through the track. Underneath it all is a warmth that’s undeniable.

Leaning fully into the DIY spirit next is ‘Homebrew’. Just acoustic guitar and that modulated vocal for the most part, it’s the sparsest song on here. The gentlest of synth sounds augment the latter part of the song bringing it home with a lightness of touch.

On ‘Giving Up’, the emotional weight becomes more direct. The guitars carry a heavier tone, and the vocal delivery feels more exposed. There is a sense of release here, as if the track allows Penn to confront some demons that have been sitting beneath the surface throughout the record.

‘Free Beers (w/ James)’ really makes us feel like we’ve stepped wholesale into that Nintendo world. The sounds used here could almost have been pulled directly from some forgotten corner of Mario world. Coupled with his unusual acoustic guitar part it makes for a pretty compelling track.

‘Telly Hill’ feels reflective, almost like a look back at everything that has come before. The alien vocal is back over that earnestly strummed guitar. Drums flicker about like the static on a TV screen. As always though there’s a lovely wee synth melody to lift everything.

The album closes out with ‘So Easy’. The rhythm takes on a clockwork rhythm that carries the melody from the synth and guitar perfectly. When the track really opens up in that final minute it’s a real shot of elation and always sends me back to hit the play button to enjoy it all again.

Spending time with All The Things We Lost Last Year really feels like stepping into a personal archive, each track carrying its own story of creation and survival. The limitations of the tools become part of the identity rather than a restriction, and the result is a record that feels honest in every detail. You can hear the late nights, the restarts, the moments of doubt, and the decision to keep going anyway. That sense of persistence gives the album substance, and by the time it ends, you are left holding onto those small fragments just as tightly as the artist who made them.

All The Things We Lost Last Year is out on April 29th. You can check it out once it’s released over on the Shoplifting Bandcamp page.

You can follow Shoplifting on social media here…

Some Fear – Word Eater

I’ll be honest from the outset here. Some Fear are a new band to my ears and my intro to the group comes on this, album number two Word Eater. The Oklahoma City group began in 2021 as a solo outlet for Branden “Bran” Palesano before growing into a full band, and Word Eater feels like the kind of record that is a group effort. It takes the slowcore foundations of the project and gives them more weight, more shape, and more confidence. You can hear a band pushing past their early lo fi beginnings and into something broader without losing the intimacy that made those roots matter in the first place.

The albums subject matter has some heft for sure. The band have this to say.

“Word Eater is a reflection of living under the U.S.’s current regime, where the lower to middle class feels powerless under the strain of the 1%. Ultimately, the band concludes that friendship and community are the only things that can get us through these hard times and help us take our power back”

These songs sit with anxiety, money worries, resentment, loneliness, and the need for closeness in a way that feels plain spoken and human. Some Fear are dealing in heavy subjects, yet the record keeps reaching for connection, which gives it a warmth that stays with you long after it ends. Let me tell you more.

The title track ‘Word Eater’ opens the album with a feeling of pressure building from somewhere deep and difficult to name. The pacing is patient, the textures are thick, as the song taps into the band’s slowcore roots. The vocals on show here are just sublime and lift the doomy chords heavenward.

‘I Don’t Want to Spend My Money’ follows with a sharper edge and a more outward frustration. The riffs grind away with purpose, but there is still melody tucked inside all that tension, this time in a slacker rock kinda way. But only kinda. You can hear the exhaustion of living under constant financial strain, of watching the numbers never stretch far enough. It’s an everyman song that really feels accessible from the opening notes.

Then ‘Stay Home’ turns that pressure inward. This is one of the album’s most claustrophobic moments, with the music feeling closed in around the voice, as if the walls are moving a little closer with each line. The stop start motif of the guitar is really unsettling. Some Fear understand how anxiety can make a small room feel even smaller, and they translate that into sound with real care. That anxiety melts away in the soaring choruses, if only momentarily. This is clever songwriting.

‘Rot’ provides us a moment of 90s grunge elation. That opening riff will have you punching the air. It then settles into another unsettling groove that keeps you on the edge of your seat wondering if we’ll hear that riff again, spoiler alert, we do!

With ‘99 Diner’, Some Fear offer one of the most vivid pieces of writing on the record. You can almost picture the harsh lighting and the stale smell hanging in the air. The song carries disgust in a very grounded way, rooted in the sort of place and mood you can recognise at once. It gives the album a slightly grimy texture at just the right moment, reminding you that adulthood often feels less cinematic than it does fluorescent.

‘Dia’ is one of the record’s emotional centres. Palesano said of ‘Dia’ that it is about “losing your identity in things outside your life, whether that is art, work, or anything else that starts to define you too completely.” That thought runs right through Word Eater. The idea behind the song is painfully familiar. So many people know what it means to pour too much of themselves into work, creativity, or expectation until they no longer know what is left underneath. Some Fear handle that feeling with real sensitivity here.

After that, ‘Harmony’ arrives like a necessary pause. The title suggests peace, though the song understands that peace is rarely simple or permanent. Instead, it feels like a brief moment where calm becomes possible. On an album so concerned with strain and silence its dynamic structure gives us it all. Whilst it does have its heavy sections this is a lighter moment in the grand scheme of the whole album.

The closing track ‘You Are Every Flower’ leaves the album in a place of tenderness. After so much heaviness, this song oozes with genuine care and quiet grace. It feels intimate but not slight, and it gives the whole record a final sense of emotional release. That closing gesture makes the album feel complete. It reminds you that even within exhaustion and uncertainty, affection still has the power to steady things.

What makes Word Eater such a strong introduction to Some Fear is the clarity of its emotional world. These songs deal with burnout, self-doubt, money, disgust, and loneliness in ways that feel grounded in daily life, yet the band shape all of that into something spacious and absorbing. You hear a group moving into a fuller sound while keeping the private ache of the material close at hand. For a first encounter, it is a memorable one. Word Eater leaves a lasting impression because it gets under your skin, one carefully chosen mouthful at a time.

Word Eater is out April 24 via Rite Field Records. You can check it out over on the Some Fear Bandcamp page.

You can follow Some Fear on social media here…

Dreamback – Landscape

I’ve had a soft spot for Dreamback for a good while now. From the early promise of Escape through Asleep and Awake, Jamie Duddy has kept finding fresh ways to shape his songs while keeping the heart of the project intact. Now, when we come to this second album, Landscape, it feels like those earlier ideas have settled into something more assured. Jamie is still pulling from the worlds of shoegaze, post rock, ambient music and slowcore, yet the record has a gentler confidence about it. For those new to Dreamback, Jamie brings his wife Laura in with her beautiful voice giving  the album an added warmth too. You can hear that closeness in the way Laura’s voice appears throughout, never overplayed, always right where the music needs it.

There is a lovely honesty in the way Jamie has described these pieces as instinctive and immediate. You feel that from the start. This album plays as a seamless listening experience.

Let’s hit play and dive in.

‘Quiet’ begins in exactly the right place setting the tone with patience and restraint. Duddy lets the atmosphere gather around the guitars, dipping in and out. It’s an assured almost therapeutic start and you can feel the stress leave your body.

Laura’s voice welcomes us into ‘Indolamine’ next. You may have caught this one on my April DKFM show. I already had a lot of time for this amazing track, and within the flow of the album it feels even better placed. There is a little more urgency in it, a little more colour in the guitar sound, and it brings welcome movement after the hush of the opener. Dreamback have often found that sweet spot between dream pop softness and a rougher shoegaze edge, and this track sits right in it.

‘New Day’ has a new age feel to it. Duddy has long had a good ear for taking simple chord shapes and giving them emotional weight, and this feels like another example of that gift. The wash of the heavily reverbed guitar creates a luscious canvas to paint on. The music opens out here, as if a curtain has been pulled back just enough to let some light in,

By the time the title track arrives, Landscape has settled into its own character. ‘Landscape’ holds the centre of the record with quiet confidence. There is a steadiness to it, and I like the way Jamie keeps the arrangement open and uncluttered. It might just be my unconscious bias but this track has a very Scottish feel to its lead guitar line which I love.

‘Seratonin’ brings a slight change in energy. The title suggests chemical imbalance and emotional swings, and the music has that same flicker to it. There is a nervousness in the fuzzed-out guitar phrasing that keeps the song unsettled, and that unease gives the album a useful jolt at just the right moment.

Then comes ‘Mercury’, which feels moodier and more elusive. Dreamback have always been good at suggesting a mood with very little, and this is one of the clearest examples here. Jamie keeps the piece lean, Laura’s voice moves through it with great care, and fuzzy guitar lines give a nice counterbalance.

‘Shadows’ goes even further inward. At just over two minutes it could easily have felt slight, yet Jamie gives it shape and purpose. The song feels hushed, private, and a touch haunted, with the kind of home recorded closeness that suits Dreamback so well. You can almost hear the room around the instruments.

There is a lovely sense of late-night stillness to ‘Midnight Plus Two’. This is where the slowcore side of Dreamback comes nearest the surface, with every note given space to breathe. Laura’s vocal sounds extra deliberate, and that keeps the whole song suspended in a very delicate place.

‘Dash’ is a quick burst, and it is placed smartly in the running order. Constructed from reversed guitar parts it gives the second half of the album a flash of motion just when it needs it. Even in such a short space Jamie manages to say plenty, which has always been one of his real strengths.

After that quick turn, the beautiful ballad ‘Reflections’ slows the pulse again and feels like one of the emotional hinges of the record. Dreamback have often worked with memory, sleep, and blurred feeling, and this track gathers those ideas into something quietly affecting. The acoustic guitar work here is subline and a real highlight of the album.

One of my favourite turns on the album comes with ‘Saturday Morning’. After the midnight hues of the previous stretch, this feels warmer, gentler, and somehow more private. Knowing Jamie and Laura are making this music together gives the track an added sweetness, as if you are hearing the album step out of their dream space and into lived space, if only for a moment.

Whilst ‘Lullaby’ is over quickly, it really does leave a mark. The softness of Dreamback can sometimes hide how carefully these records are put together, and this song is a fine example of that touch. The arrangement is light as clouds, the feeling stays tender, and the result is one of the album’s most moving moments.

Closing on ‘Valentine’ feels right for an album made with this kind of care. There is affection in Dreamback’s music, and here it comes through in a way that feels truly heartfelt. To finish the record with a piece that feels intimate and complete is a small closing gesture that says everything it needs to.

What I enjoy most about Landscape is how settled it feels in Dreamback’s own language. Duddy has spent the last few releases trying different routes through dream pop, ambient texture, post rock space and understated song writing, and this album gathers those ideas into a set that feels personal from start to finish. Laura’s voice remains one of the quiet joys of the project, adding softness and human closeness without ever breaking the mood. You come away from Landscape feeling as though you have spent time somewhere carefully arranged, lived in, and full of feeling. By the end, Dreamback have changed the scenery around you.

Landscape is out now. You can check it out over on the Dreamback Bandcamp page.

You can follow Dreamback on social media here…

Modern Time Machines – No Heart of Gold

Modern Time Machines have been building their own corner of Los Angeles shoegaze since 2007, blending dream pop softness with a more offbeat, filmic streak. Across releases like Continuity Girl and MTM, they have picked up praise for the way they pair feedback, melody and atmosphere without losing sight of the song itself. Their story has also moved beyond the usual band path, taking in radio support, a memorable appearance on The Eric Andre Show, soundtrack work, and a collaboration with the late Allee Willis. This new single also introduces an expanded lineup, with Diana Christine Hereld and Arlene Ziodria joining longtime members Ben Golomb, Mike Morgan, and Olya Volkova.

‘No Heart of Gold’ feels rich with mood from the first few seconds. The fuzzy lead guitar cuts through those soft, airy washes with real purpose, while the vocals stay gentle and close, supported by lush harmonies that give the song extra depth. What I like most is the way the chorus opens up. It soars, yet keeps that darker tone tucked inside it, which gives the whole track a slightly gothic edge without ever pushing too hard. There is a real sense of balance here. The band let the textures bloom, though the melody always stays front and centre.

You can check out the video below. Interesting wee tidbit for ya, I’ll let Ben explain.

“I’m actually wearing my late friend Allee Willis’ shoes in the video – I was able to get them at her estate sale. Allee had wore them at our songwriting session together on our last single, “Ornamental.””

Taken as a whole, ‘No Heart of Gold’ sounds like a strong next step for Modern Time Machines. It carries the atmosphere you want from a band like this, though it also feels clear, focused and emotionally direct. If this single is a sign of what this lineup can do together, there is plenty here to look forward to.

‘No Heart of Gold’ is out now. You can check it out over on the Modern Time Machines Bandcamp page.

You can follow Modern Time Machines on social media here…

Fir Cone Children – St Vincent – Single Premiere

One of the real joys of following Fir Cone Children for so long is hearing how Alexander Donat keeps finding fresh pages to add to this family songbook. When I first spent time with the project around Waterslide at 7am, the songs thrived on close observation, turning school days, pets, games and little household scenes into bright guitar led pieces full of joy. By the time you reached Today There’s No Tomorrow and The Urge To Overtake Time, the pace had sharpened and a little more shade had begun to pass through the writing. Then came Jig of Glee, ‘Your Voice’, and ‘Gearshifting’, where his daughters were older, the emotions carried more weight, and Donat let his own point of view sit more openly in the songs.

That whole history flows beautifully into the next chapter of the Fir Cone Children story with ‘St Vincent’. This single feels like the next natural phase because whilst the family thread is still right at the centre, now the child who inspired the songs steps up to the microphone and joins the song.

Donat explains a bit of the back story for us.

“The song was inspired by a concert I took my first daughter to see. We saw St. Vincent and her band on their ‘All Born Screaming’ tour in Berlin. It was my 12-year-old’s very first rock concert. Since she’d been listening to St. Vincent CDs in her bedroom since she was only six or seven, this show held special significance; it wasn’t just any band on stage. Seeing the sparkle in my daughter’s eyes was fantastic.”

Let’s hit play and head to the gig.

Musically, ‘St Vincent’ carries plenty of the traits that have made this project such a fixture on Static Sounds Club over the years. The guitar arrives coated in fuzz, while the wider synth wash gives the track that open, airy feeling Donat does so well. This is the gaziest I’ve heard FCC. Then the voices come in. Father and daughter in perfect harmony. Donat sings with his familiar mix of warmth and urgency, while Liisu brings a gentler touch that changes the whole colour of the song. Her voice gives the track a fresh lift and, for those of us who have followed Fir Cone Children through so many releases, there is something deeply moving in hearing that new family voice come through. When the chorus opens out, man, the whole thing rises. It soars! You get the rush of a first rock show, the glow of a shared memory and the slight daze that follows a night that changes you a little.

What gives ‘St Vincent’ its real emotional impact for me is where it sits in the bigger Fir Cone Children story. ‘Your Voice’ gave us Alexander as the father looking on, full of nerves, pride and love. ‘St Vincent’ is the next step in that journey. Laila is no longer only the spark for the song. She’s core to its sound, part of its feeling, part of the future of this little universe Donat has been building for years. As the opener for the next album, it points toward a record that could bring even more closeness, more family detail and more heart without losing that fuzzy melodic rush that makes Fir Cone Children feel so alive. After all these years, Donat still knows how to keep this project fresh. With Liisu beside him, ‘St Vincent’ is the sweetest fruit!

‘St Vincent’ is out now via Blackjack Illuminist Records. Make sure you follow their Bandcamp page. The next Fir Cone Children album is due for an 8th May release. This will be album number twelve for the project and its title is Vs. The Real World.

You can follow Fir Cone Children on social media here…

doused – Sckrpnch EP

Philadelphia undoubtedly punches way above its weight when it comes to producing shoegaze bands. The sheer number of top tier bands emanating from that amazing city is mind blowing. Among them are doused, a band I’ve been following since their 2021 debut album Murmur. That debut gave them a foothold, the singles released after kept their name moving, and now their new EP sckrpnch arrives after four years sounding leaner, sharper and more sure of itself. Emma Hansson, Mike Wolfe and Vince Duong still work with the same core ingredients of shoegaze, dream pop, post punk and new wave, yet this EP feels more fully realised than anything they’ve released to date.  

doused have always understood that volume means more when a tune can survive underneath it. On sckrpnch that balance is everywhere. You get sweetness and abrasion in the same breath, and the band make it sound easy. Parallels will be drawn to the titans of the scene My Bloody Valentine but hey, that’s ok. The band have “Rip off yr idols” emblazoned on a slip sleeve for their debut album. They are fully conscious that, like folk music, shoegaze is just another musical tradition to be carried on by the next generation. Gatekeepers can go sit in the corner.

Let’s drop the needle and let it wash over us.

Opening piece ‘preamble’ lasts barely a minute. It has the mood of a half-remembered intro tape from some older underground show, something intimate and a little ominous. By the time it folds into the next track you are fully inside doused’s world.

From there ‘dull yr knife (on my skull)’ comes in with real bite. The guitars have a hard edge to them, almost serrated, and the rhythm section gives the song a proper shove from underneath. The vocal sits in the middle of the noise with poise, neither buried nor overlit. Perfectly balanced. You can tell there is a strong pop instinct here, tucked inside all that scrape and swell. The melody sticks fast. So does the title, which feels ugly, funny and faintly menacing all at once.

The title track keeps the pressure up and pares the whole thing down into something short, fast and bruising. ‘sckrpnch’ has that lovely quality great noisy pop can have where every second feels packed and urgent yet nothing feels cluttered. The bass gives the song a thick backbone, Duong’s drums snap it into shape, and the synth touches stop it from turning into pure blunt force. I love how the band let the vocal lines peek through the racket rather than trying to sit above it. That choice gives the song shoegaze allure.  

Then comes ‘xoxo’, which for me is where the EP really opens up. You can hear doused enjoying the meeting point between sweetness and abrasion here without making a big show of it. The melody has a bright sting to it, almost candy coated on first contact, yet the guitars keep rubbing against that surface until the whole thing feels frayed at the edges. There is something wonderfully sly about naming a song ‘xoxo’ and then loading it with this much grit. It also says a lot about doused as writers. They know how to bend familiar pop language into something strange enough to feel fresh. It was a no brainer to include this one on my April DKFM Shoegaze Radio Show.

At over six minutes, ‘eyelash’ gives the band space to stretch the EP’s ideas into a bigger shape. The guitars just explode out the speakers; there’s no reason why they should still sound so delicate and warm. But they do, feedback licking round the spaces in between like punctuation marks in the ether. Beneath it all is an emotional pop ballad with hooks for days. This is the one I find myself coming back to again and again as it blows my tiny mind. The guitar solo in the closing section just fighting with the feedback to make a sound like a galaxy crying is insane. The ethereal outro acts as a segue into the final track while capturing the melody in skeletal form.

Closing track ‘slug’ does something smart by refusing to treat that longer piece as the grand final statement. Instead, doused end with something more compact and wiry, a track that gets in, does its damage and leaves. The guitars sound filthy in the best way, the drums keep everything taut, and the vocal delivery has a detached cool that suits the song’s title perfectly. There is a grim little swagger to ‘slug’ that I really enjoyed. It closes the EP with a smirk, which feels exactly right for a band whose songs keep one eye on the hook and the other on the amp.

Across these six tracks, doused show they are a band who know exactly how much volume to apply and when to let a melody cut through the grime. sckrpnch is a brief EP, yet none the less memorable for it. Far from it. The guitars scrape and flare, the rhythms stay tight, and underneath all that noise sits a strong instinct for melody that gives each song its own afterlife. Four years on from Murmur, this feels like the work of a band returning with a clearer sense of purpose and a firmer grip on their sound. Every choice feels considered, from the short sharp shock of the title track to the slow burn ache of ‘eyelash’ and the wiry final jab of ‘slug’. By the time it ends, sckrpnch has done exactly what its title promises. Prepare to be knocked out!

sckrpnch is out now on vinyl via The Funeral Party. You can check it out over on the doused Bandcamp page.

You can follow doused on social media here…

Angine De Poitrine – Vol II

It’s time to tackle the band of the moment. Love em or hate em there’s no avoiding Angine De Poitrine at the moment. For me, that’s such a good thing.

You can laugh at the polka dots, the oversized heads and the absurd back story for about a minute but when they start playing, everyone’s jaw drops. What first looks like wacky theatre quickly gives way to the more startling truth that Klek de Poitrine and Khn de Poitrine are astonishing world class musicians. To make music this tight, this knotted and this physical is hard enough in ordinary clothes. To do it while sealed inside those cumbersome costumes makes the duo seem even more locked in, as if the restriction sharpens their concentration. Man, they might actually be aliens.

Plenty of bands can cause a stir with novelty and gimmicks. Very few can back it up with songs this strong. Their debut album Vol I announced Angine de Poitrine as a real force and I had a lot of time for it. Theres just no denying the sheer force of nature that is ‘Sherpa’. Though, for me, its best material sat heavily toward the front. Vol II sorts that out straight away. This is all killer, no filler. Every piece earns its place, every loop de doop has a point, and every turn opens another angle in the rhythm. Today where the plodding dad rock of Oasis is once again seeping into a younger generation, Angine de Poitrine feel like a breath of fresh air. They are true originals with real energy, real movement and real musical ability. You can hear a future in this album rather than a turgid rerun of the past.

I tried to get a quote from the band about what it was like moving from Vol I to Vol II with a growing online storm following them. They had this to say.

“Brr dooooooot frnnnnnk arrrrrrrrrrrrksss boffffff deeeeeeeeeeeeeee”

I jest of course, couldn’t resist. Let’s drop a long-awaited needle (man it took ages to able to get a copy on vinyl) and dive into their world.

‘Fabienk’ gets the album moving with a pulse that feels both strict and loose, which is one of this duo’s great strengths. Klek lays down a groove that keeps circling with machine like insistence, while Khn threads these bent, needling guitar lines across the top in shapes that never quite land where your ear expects. The loop does the anchoring, but the life of the track comes from the way the pair keep stretching against and around it. The main riff is super catchy but all these other little accents flicker in and out as well. The guitar seems to tease a hook, then twist it into another form before it settles. For all the odd timing in play, the thing that hits first is how much fun it is.

The central figure of ‘Mata Zyklek’ is one of the densest things they have written. It has that circular quality that makes you want one more pass, then another, then another, and Klek knows exactly how to feed that instinct without letting the groove sit still. How do they manage to perform at this speed? His drumming is all force and judgment. Every hit feels chosen. Khn answers with riffs galore as well as weird alien chants. It’s almost as if the guitar is speaking in its own language. What really sells the track is the duo’s command of dynamics. They know when drop in and out and seeing Khn perform his dance on the loop station at his feet makes you appreciate them even more. The costumes may make people smile, but this is the sort of playing that would stun you in the total darkness of a venue.

There is a wonky brightness to ‘Sarniezz’ that makes it one of the quickest rushes on the record. The groove has a spring in it, almost playful in the way it hops forward, yet the detail inside the arrangement is fierce. Klek keeps nudging the beat from different sides, giving the track a sense of imbalance without ever letting it tip over. Khn uses that footing to throw out one curling phrase after another, each one slightly warped, each one catchy in a way that sneaks up on you. This is where the duo’s humour and skill sit together most naturally. You hear the absurdity in the tones and the vocal noises, but you also hear musicians who know exactly what they’re doing.  

By the time ‘Utzp’ lands, Vol II is already flying, and this is the point where the record shows how many languages Angine de Poitrine can fold into their sound without losing themselves. There is a lopsided polka dance feel to the opening pattern, something you might hear on a Camper Van Beethoven track. But it’s not long before the piece grows sharper and more aggressive. Khn’s playing here is a marvel. He shifts from clipped melodic fragments to fast runs and stacked lines without losing the thread, while Klek keeps everything rooted with a beat that feels both heavy and agile. The false stops are handled brilliantly. Each return lands with more force, and the track builds and builds to a frenzy that should be impossible given how they’re dressed.

‘Yor Zarad’ has a tougher edge. The opening exchange between drums and string attack is so sharply timed that it feels almost visual. Once the main riff comes in, the track pushes forward with a lean, muscular swagger that gives the album one of its hardest blows. What I love here is the way Angine de Poitrine turn that complexity into energy you can dance to. Plenty of technically minded bands can leave you admiring the technique and forgetting the actual song. Klek and Khn never fall into that trap. ‘Yor Zarad’ hits with the directness of something you could throw yourself around a room to, even as its structure keeps mutating underneath. That balance between instinct and control is all over Vol II, and this track might be the clearest example of it.

‘Angor’ closes the record in a way that says a lot about how much the duo have grown. On Vol I, I always found the back half a little less packed with knockout moments than the opening stretch. Here, the closer feels fully worthy of what comes before it. This is something else altogether. More like some sci fi battle theme than the psyche wig outs we’ve heard so far. By the final minutes, you are hearing a band who understand exactly how to end a record like this. My god they left it all on the tape. It leaves Vol II sounding complete, not merely finished.

By the end of Vol II, the real achievement becomes impossible to miss. Angine de Poitrine have taken the promise of the first record and stretched it across a full album with strength, purpose and a real clarity from start to finish. Every track brings its own shape, its own rhythm and its own strange kind of release, yet the whole thing still holds together as one complete statement. Klek and Khn can dress it all up in dots, masks and cosmic nonsense, though none of that would matter for a second without musicianship of this level. This album proves they are far more than a viral curiosity. All the gatekeeping commentary I’m seeing online “they’re fooling you” “You’re being had” holds zero water. They are making some people in the music world uncomfortable, and rightly so. They are one of the most original and thrilling bands making guitar music right now, arriving with ideas, energy and the kind of skill that leaves most revivalist rock looking tired on arrival. Vol II feels like the sound of a band fully realising their sound and to me it seems like they have so much more up their spotty sleeves

Vol II is out now on vinyl via Spectacles Bonzai. You can check it out over on the Angine de Poitrine Bandcamp page.

You can follow Angine de Poitrine on social media here…

Photo Credit

Constantin Monfilliette