Static Sounds Club

Blanket – True Blue

Heavy gaze. That’s my thing. Proper heavy guitars that obliterate your eardrums. I’ve always had a soft spot for bands who can balance that with melody and deliver songs that proper hook you in. That’s where Blanket find themselves as their new album, True Blue (noooo not THAT one) arrives. My experience with their previous albums is limited but from what I’ve been told, this should be my kinda thing.

Going in, I tried to keep my head clear. I had heard the talk about the band leaning further into gaze territory, but I didn’t want to frame the record before it had a chance to settle in. I’m getting ahead of myself here. If, like me, you’re giving Blanket a first listen here the let me introduce them. They’re four lads from the North West of England. Bobby Pook is on guitar and vocals, Simon Morgan also on guitar, Bass is handled by Ash Betton with Lucas Fletcher banging the drums. This will be the bands follow up to 2024’s Ceremonia album. On the subject of how they approached this new album here’s what they had to say.

“When we wrote True Blue, it felt like the whole thing finally fell into place, the vibe, the lyrics, the meaning, everything started to make sense. The track, and really the whole record, is about brighter days, a bit of nostalgia, and finding beauty in the small, quiet moments. We used samples from films like Nomadland, which felt right and added to the atmosphere we were trying to build.”

This sounds like it’s going to be an optimistic listen, lets dive in and find out.

The very short instrumental and textural piece ‘The Swallows Reflecting In The Water’ opens the album. Like an orchestra tuning up it just prepares us with a flavour of the sonic palate we’re about to enjoy.

‘Hole In My Head’ pulls the curtain back and we’re smacked square about the face with Blankets take on that Philly gaze sound. Everything is dialled up to ten. The riffs are sharp and on point, vocal melodies are hooky but don’t dominate the mix, drums are apocalyptically loud and in yer face. This is a potent way to kick off the album and a real statement of intent. Blanket are taking no prisoners.

There’s no let up on ‘Levitate’ next. If anything, it deepens their resolve. There’s a great use of melody here. Check out how the vocals melodies seamlessly hand off to the guitars after the soaring choruses. Also, when the volume drops ever so slightly in the instrumental break we hear another. It’s an intricate web of a song this one.

‘Bind’ introduces a new shade with the addition of Wayside, but it never feels like a guest moment for the sake of it. The songs lulls into thinking this is going to be a quieter ballad type affair before bursting to full fuzzy glory when the vocals come in. The intensity is certainly amped up here with the guitars riding that wave of feedback throughout. All that said, the melodies remain and shine through in spades.

‘Leaning On You’ acts as a subtle pivot point. Here the band moves from intensity into atmospherics. The band paint the air with soft textures punctuated with the blunt force of fuzz where required. It’s a tender vocal melody and is couched in this opulent opus making us feel very spoiled indeed as listeners,

Up next ‘Summer Skin’ builds on that tender mood. Lynsey Ward’s vocal adds a soft glow that lifts the track without ever taking over or overwhelming it. The way the song swells and then pulls back again shows just how controlled this record is, even at its most emotive. The band have put so much thought and care into planning the dynamics of these songs.

Speaking of dynamic ‘Wallflower’ brings the velocity and movement back into focus. There are moments hear that feel like they should sit on a 4AD album from the nineties such is their sheen. Then the song turns on a penny and smacks you about the face again. Hats off to Fletcher for a stellar drum performance here!

All too soon we are at the end with the title track. ‘True Blue’ finishes things off with a fitting flourish. That contrast between the crescendo post rock sound and that gentle acoustic guitar passage at the end is superb. Whilst the ending comes all too soon it is the perfect full stop to this collection.

Now bear in mind my knowledge of their previous work is limited but that said, True Blue feels like Blanket locking into something that really suits them. The heaviness is absolutely there, loud and physical when it needs to be, but it’s the way they temper it with melody and dynamics really makes this a special listen. Every song feels considered. Nothing is thrown in for impact alone. You can almost hear them thinking carefully about how long to hold tension and when to let it spill over. Even when the record ends quicker than you might want to, it never feels unfinished. It feels deliberate.

This is Blanket sounding comfortable in their own skin, confident enough to lean into the gaze without losing their punch. If True Blue is about honesty and commitment, then this album lives up to its name. Blanket sound absolutely true blue to themselves here.

True Blue is out January 16^th 2026 via Adventure Cat Records. You can check them out over on the Blanket Bandcamp page.

You can follow Blanket on social media here…

Baleen – I Dream I’m Left Behind

I first stepped into Baleen’s world through their self-titled EP. That record arrived with a quiet confidence and a sense of curiosity that floored me and had me skipping the needle back to the start again and again. It felt like a band thinking beyond the immediate moment, already shaping a sound with space, patience and emotional intent. There was depth there, even in its brevity. So, when I Dream I’m Left Behind landed, I came to it genuinely excited. Whilst my expectations were high, somehow, they still undersold what this album achieves.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. So, for those who missed my EP review Baleen are based in Northampton, Massachusetts and are Mike Anctil handles drums, Katy Beyer vocals, Gregg Bothwell guitars, vocals and synth, with Austin Hatch on bass. Bothwell writes the songs and takes on production duties alongside Andrew Oedel. That sense of continuity matters. You can hear a band comfortable with each other and confident enough to let songs find their own way.

The band have this to say on what to expect from the album.

“I Dream I’m Left Behind is an album about the grey areas between extremes: between medicine and poison; between joy and sadness; between human connection and the desire to be alone. It’s an album that explores the delirious joys and complex challenges of domestic life, and all the ways that human beings cope with the difficulties of being alive.”

Let’s drop the needle and explore those grey areas.

‘Moonlight on the Clock’ opens the album with a sense of restraint that immediately signals growth. The guitars are sumptuous and beckon us in with their warmth with a counter melody that’s as catchy as the vocal. The gentle tones are periodically punctuated by heavy fuzz passages that explode across the song like fireworks. This is quite the opener. This is accomplished songwriting and has us hooked immediately.

Moving forward with momentum next is ‘Floating Just a Little Bit’. The balance between quiet reflection and soaring intensity is beautifully judged here, with the chorus landing hard because of how carefully the angular verses are shaped. The solitary voice of the verse turns into full group singing for the choruses. And boy do they hit you right in the feels.

‘Champagne Sugar’ introduces a more rhythmic guitar approach that immediately stands out. The playing here feels deliberate and precise, almost conversational. Lyrically it carries a sense of reflection and closeness, capturing those fleeting moments at the edge of change when friendships feel both permanent and fragile. It’s another high-quality song; man, this is exceptional stuff.

‘In the Morning’ next focuses right on our heartstrings. They seem to have found a way to make us feel with a chord change, a change in dynamic. It’s uncanny. See the entry point into the choruses here and the slow build over its length that absolutely floors you. The guitar solo midway through bringing to mind American Football is simply stunning.

There’s a brief but effective shift in pace next with ‘Burnt Hills’. An instrumental tone poem it serves as a palette cleanser as we move into the second half of the album.

‘Spirit Divides’ leans into darker territory. The guitars grow heavier, the atmosphere thicker, and the song slowly escalates toward a powerful release. The tension feels internal rather than dramatic, rooted in anxiety and dissociation rather than societal reasons. There’s a definite nod to the Philly sound of Nothing or Whirr for sure but with a little more definition and drive.

‘Anatomy of a Fall’ brings a sense of reflection back into focus. The interplay between guitars and vocals feels especially strong here, with melodies that linger without overstating themselves. They once again lean into the epic with a massive wall of sound being employed to great effect. The guitar swell after the choruses is just incredible.

Baleen go all out with a ‘Endless Blue Sky’ which is all velocity and vibes. Everyone is heads down and thrashing their instruments, fully immersed in their performances. The sheer energy is incredible, charged with excitement. I can imagine this one being a live favourite.

‘Winedark’ is the album’s emotional centrepiece. At over eight minutes, it unfolds slowly and confidently, drawing from post rock patience and shoegaze density in equal measure. The repetition becomes hypnotic, the guitars washing over you as the song gradually deepens. It’s immersive without losing focus and as the song reveals its many facets it both excites and surprises you throughout its runtime. This is a real masterclass.

‘Madmen and Addicts’ closes the album with a sense of quiet resolve. Rather than reaching for a grand finale, Baleen choose reflection and restraint. It feels like a farewell rather than the finality of a goodbye. A slow exhale after the emotional journey has come to an end.

Where the EP hinted at what Baleen could become, I Dream I’m Left Behind commits fully. The sound is more nuanced and the compositions more layered. Shoegaze, indie rock, post rock, Midwest emo and ambient textures sit side by side without friction. Nothing feels forced together. Instead, these songs live in the grey spaces between extremes, emotionally and sonically. It is an album about domestic life, anxiety, connection and retreat, about learning how to sit with contradictions rather than resolve them.

I Dream I’m Left Behind feels like a band fully stepping into their own. It takes the promise of the EP and expands it with confidence, patience and emotional clarity. These songs do not rush you. They sit with you. They trust you to listen, to feel, and to return. When I Dream I’m Left Behind closes, it feels like waking from a dream you were not ready to leave, carrying its weight quietly with you into the day.

I Dream I’m Left Behind is out now on vinyl via Strange Library Records. You can check it out over on the Baleen Bandcamp page.

You can follow Baleen on social media here

Callière – Solar

It’s the first blog of 2026 and what better way to start with an artist of exquisite pedigree. Someone who has studied at the feet of the master himself Robin Guthrie. Someone who straddles the shoegaze and dream pop worlds with effortless intent. Of whom do I speak. Of course, its Andrew Rose and his Callière project.

Callière first emerged in the mid-eighties before falling silent for decades, only to return around Christmas 2021 when watching the Let It Be documentary nudged him back towards songwriting. That detail is important people. Callière is the sound of someone reconnecting with music on their own terms and then creating whole new worlds for us to explore.

I know Andrew through DKFM, where we both DJ. His Pristine Masters show is a regular reminder of his taste and musical curiosity. It’s thoughtful, wide-ranging, and always emotionally grounded. Going into Solar, I expected more of what Callière had already been doing well. What I didn’t expect was just how confident and fully realised this album would feel. This is a clear step up in his writing. It sounds like someone who has found his true north and is following it without hesitation.

The album opens with ‘Solar’, a title track that sets the tone immediately. There’s a calm assurance to the way it unfolds, guitars glowing, melodies allowed to breathe. I am reminded of the other worldly Candy Claws in the general vibe which I love. It establishes a warmth that carries through the rest of the record and signals that this is an album built on feeling rather than urgency.

‘First Light’ follows naturally, leaning into that sense of emergence. There’s a gentle optimism running through the song, carried by soft but devastating guitar lines and an unforced melody. It feels like a morning song in the truest sense, not just in title but in spirit.

‘We Can See For Miles’ stretches things out and gets a little darker. The vocals lift the song into the light but there’s a sense of distance here, both musically and emotionally, with layers slowly revealing themselves over time. It’s one of those tracks that rewards repeat listens, each pass bringing something new into focus.

‘Claire From Clare’ introduces a more personal tone. The songwriting here feels intimate and the arrangement is pure sunshine pop. It’s a real curveball and you immediately sit up and take notice. We are definitely in more psychedelic territory here which works so well with the vibe of the album overall.

That poppy sound develops further next. ‘Anne with an E’ continues that thread, tender and reflective. The song carries a quiet emotional weight, supported by restrained acoustic instrumentation that never oversteps its role. This track feels like a big musical hug, it’s just lovely. Everything serves the song, and that discipline is one of the album’s great strengths.

You may have heard this next track on my December DKFM show. ‘The Longest Road’ is the emotional core of Solar. It’s equal parts dreamy and epic, unfolding slowly like a blooming flower. The way the song builds, both melodically and emotionally, stopped me in my tracks on first listen. When it kicks in you are swept away on a wave of euphoria. Man, it’s EPIC This is the point where Rose’s growth as a songwriter feels most apparent.

‘John’ brings us real shoegaze, fuzzy guitars and an almost doo wop track for the gazers. The vocals are hypnotic and trade off each other really nicely in the mix. This is the first track that has felt nostalgic for that nineties shoegaze sound but is reverential with it.

‘Cephalophore’ is one of the more intriguing moments on the record. The song opens with monks chanting which leans into the title as a cephalophore (from the Greek for ‘head-carrier’) is a saint or martyr who is generally depicted carrying their severed head (thanks Wikipedia). This is not a church like song by any means. It’s a fuzzed-out race that delivers at pace a psyche wig out that leaves you breathless. Just check out the bass work on this one. Absolutely stunning!

‘Next To You’ brings a welcome sense of closeness. The song feels immediate and sincere, its relative simplicity working in its favour. Theres a sheen of luminescence over the whole mix that shines brightest in those chorus sections. The drums feel enormous and keep everything moving along nicely. Speaking of enormous, wait until you hear the guitar solo.

‘Mountains’ broadens the emotional scope again moving almost into jangle pop territory. The chorus here is just so catchy and will lift even the darkest of moods. Overall, the arrangement feels expansive, yet never overwhelming, reinforcing that balance between atmosphere and songcraft that runs throughout Solar.

The album closes with a return to ‘The Longest Road (slight return)’, presented here in a slightly reworked form. It’s a thoughtful way to end the record, inviting reflection and reinforcing the song’s central role within the album. Rather than feeling repetitive, it adds a sense of completion.

Solar feels like the sound of everything aligning for Rose. All those years of listening, absorbing, stepping away, then slowly returning, have led him here. There’s a confidence running through this album that never tips into bravado. The songs are patient, emotionally open, and deeply melodic, moving effortlessly between shoegaze haze, dream pop warmth, psychedelic colour, and moments of pure pop clarity. What really stands out is how cohesive it all feels. Each track has its own character, yet nothing feels out of place. This is Rose trusting his instincts completely and letting the songs lead, rather than forcing them into shape. Solar feels present, grounded, and quietly expansive. An album made with care, conviction, and a clear sense of purpose, and one that rewards you more each time you return to it. Are you ready to ride the Solar winds?

Solar is out on January 9^th via the Callière Bandcamp page.

You can follow Callière on social media here…

End of Year Thoughts

Well, that’s the end of another year and what a year for music it’s been. Looking back, I’ve written twice as much as I have any other year with over 100 blogs published. That’s twice as many bands championed and hopefully as many new fans created.

Static Sounds Club exists for me to enthuse about music that excites me but this year, more than any other, I’ve begun to notice people are actually listening to my warbling’s. To those of you who’ve dropped me messages or left comments on my posts thank you so much. Sometimes I need a wee reminder of why I do this and you have been consistently there, giving me the nudge I need to start hammering the keyboard again,

My DKFM Radio show has been going from strength to strength, 2025 was the first year I have produced the full twelve shows. This speaks volumes about how focused I’ve been and how positive my mindset has been. Achieving a number two chart position on the Dream Pop and Shoegaze charts on Mixcloud has just been the icing on the cake. Let’s see if we can get a number one in 2026.

I thoroughly enjoyed looking back at 2025 over December with my advent calendar of the year’s best albums. Given I limited myself to 25 records there’s at least 75 missing from that list so if your bands album never appeared just know if I wrote about you, your music is amazing and you are appreciated!

Here’s to you dear reader, Happy New Year and I hope 2026 brings you all the joy and good fortune you richly deserve.

In case you missed it here’s my advent calendar of the year. See ya in 2026 where I’ll be writing about Calliere, Blanket, Baleen, Studio Kosmische and of course, the new album from Nothing!

1/ Kevin Atwater – Achilles

2/ Slow Crush – Thirst

3/ Cloth – Pink Silence

4/ Teethe – Magic of the Sale

5/ Hotline TNT – Raspberry Moon

6/ Guitar – We’re Heading To The Lake

7/ Cyanide Sisters – Cyanide Sisters

8/ The Miracle Seeds – Nuclear Watermelon

9/ Sister Ray Davies – Holy Island

10/ Midlake – A Bridge To Far

11/ Tvål – Tvål

12/ F.O. Machete – Mother of a Thousand

13/ Everything Else – Another One Making Clouds

14/ Throwing Muses – Moonlight Concessions

15/ Horsegirl – Phonetics On and on

16/ Great Grandpa – Patience, Moonbeam

17/ Goon – Dream 3

18/ Blankenberge – Decisions

19/ The Stargazer Lilies – Love Pedals

20/ Just Mustard – We Were Just Here

21/ Flock of Dimes – The Life You Save

22/ Tremours – Fragments

23/ Korb – Korb IV

24/ The Cords – The Cords

25/ Mogwai – The Bad Fire

My Bloody Valentine and Me

This isn’t going to be my usual kinda blog. Y’see I saw My Bloody Valentine live last week and it was a massive moment for me. Something that has taken nearly 30 years to get to. Let me explain.

Let’s head back to the 90’s for this first bit of the story. I had just been asked to cover a friends DJ spot at his indie night for a few weeks while he went travelling. I agreed without thinking it through. At the time the pub had one of those old Citronix double record decks in one box type units. I had loads of CD’s and zero vinyl. That Saturday I headed into Greenock and visited every charity shop and bought every record I could that looked like it might sound cool enough for a DJ set. In amongst all that was this weird looking record with a pink cover and what looked like a guitar or something on the cover. It was only 25p so I took a shot.

I put off listening to it for a few days because I had no idea what it was. When I eventually got round to playing it for the first time I was convinced the record was warped so only got a couple of minutes in and left it. Then I saw the video for ‘To Here Knows When’ on the TV and realised ahhh that’s how it’s supposed to sound. So, I gave it another listen and to be honest I wasn’t sure at all what I thought. I’d never heard anything like it. I knew for a fact though that I’d be playing ‘Soon’ at the indie night.

Slowly over the next few weeks I listened to the album a few more times. Each time I did, I unlocked another song in my head. Like the album was slowly revealing itself to me. As an avid reader of Melody Maker and NME, I liked to keep my back issues and after reading that Kevin Shields meant for the album to be heard at volume I gave that a try when I had the house to myself one day. That was the key that unlocked it all. I have vivid memories of hearing ‘To Here Knows When’ for the first time. Y’know, really hearing it. That washed out tuneless song suddenly become this textured, all-consuming love song that I couldn’t get out my head. From that day on, I was obsessed.

I knew I had to see them live. I went back to my Melody Makers and read stories of extreme strobe shows and a song called ‘You Made Me Realise’ (which I hadn’t heard yet) that had a section that stretched on for half an hour with intense feedback and the loudest volume of any band on the scene. My heart sank. I have epilepsy and flashing lights were a big trigger for me. There was no way I could see this band that were core to my being live.

That was a story I told myself for years. Every time they came to Scotland to play, all my mates would go and I’d hear stories of them being blown away and subsequently being deaf for days after and I’d always think ‘I wish that was me’.

My epilepsy has been controlled for a great many years now yet all through my life I’ve always had that fear, the ‘what if’ always rattled about my head.

This year MBV announced they were playing Glasgow and without overthinking it, I bought a ticket on day one of the tickets going live. Then my overthinking brain kicked in. What are you doing? You can’t go. You know what’ll happen. Idiot!!!

So, it went in the months leading up to the gig itself. Round after round of beating myself up and self-pity.

The day of the gig came and it struck me that I was the only one who had bought a seated ticket. I was going with the boys from my band and was really regretting not being able to hang out with them at the gig. Arriving at the venue my stomach was in knots. I hoped this was the right decision. I needed a distraction. The merch stall was amazing. Grabbed a tour t shirt and Loveless woolly hat. Bumped into Roddy Woomble from Idlewild. literally. Said ‘Hi Roddy’ like we were old pals. The poor guy just looked totally confused, said nothing and went on his way. Bumped into a few more pals and then time came to go in.

J Mascis was supporting playing an acoustic set. This turned out to be a cracking show and even though he wasn’t playing his electric guitars he still managed to crank up the fuzz a couple of times. What a great distraction for my racing mind. After his set was over my mates came over to say hi and noticed two empty seats directly behind me. They sat down and prayed no one would come with tickets. In truth no one was praying harder than me. Just having my brothers behind me made me feel so much better and I felt myself starting to relax. Then the lights went off.

My heart was beating out my chest now. I felt physically sick. The band took to the stage and I held my breath. The opening drumbeats of ‘I Only Said’ sounded out and then it hit me. Like a wave of joy, washing it all away. The worry, the fear, the years of doubt. I was here. I was actually here!

Song after song I felt it all melt away. They played ‘Honey Power, ‘Cigarette In Your Bed’, ‘Off Your Face’ and ‘Thorn’. All those songs off the EP’s I was obsessed with. I was in heaven. It was the fastest gig I’ve ever been at. Looking back, they played 19 songs but honestly it only felt like minutes. My cheeks were sore with smiling.

When ‘You Made Me Realise’ came I was ready. I wondered how long they would hold the noise section for. Turns out I was in no way ready. The first couple of minutes of that single note being played felt like being stuck face first into a jet engine. It was strangely soothing. Five minutes in though. I started feeling nauseous. All around me people were leaving the hall with their hands over their ears. I was going nowhere though. Couple more minutes passed and I felt amazing. Like this was my new normal. I will just be living inside this hurricane for the rest of my life. I read later that this section peaked at over 120 decibels which is insane.

When the band kicked back in, I almost leapt out of my seat. It was a total rush.

I can honestly say it was a gig and an experience that I will never forget. To hear those songs I heard first all those years ago on that charity shop bought album and my now near complete MBV vinyl collection. To see it live. To be in the company of so many like minded folk, to be with my brothers. That was priceless.

I guess the takeaway from all this is fuck fear. Do that thing you’ve always wanted to do. Even if it scares you shitless. Do it. What’s the worst that can happen. Also My Bloody Valentine remain the greatest band in my world. So, to Kevin, Bilinda, Deb and Colm. Thank you. You made ME realise.

Follow My Bloody Valentine on social media here ….

Tulpa – Monster Of The Week

Back in September we were first introduced to Tulpa. That first single, a sudden surge of interest from BBC 6 Music and a finished album landing on the desk of Skep Wax has propelled us here. The release of their debut album Monster Of The Week.

So, who are Tulpa? The line up is Josie Kirk on vocals and bass, Daniel Hyndman and Myles Kirk on guitar with Mike Ainsley on drums. They’re based out of Leeds but their sound taps into an American alt rock sound and the sound of young Scotland. They have played with Throwing Muses, Pale Blue Eyes and Bug Club. They have been winning over crowds on the DIY festival circuit with a wave of jangle pop, spiky indie rock and oddball storytelling that glows like a box of comics.

I went into Monster Of The Week already buzzing after the single ‘Let’s Make A Tulpa!’. That song had really raised my expectations on what this album was going to be. I mean, I expected the album to be fun and hooky. I don’t think it will surprise you that I was pleasantly surprised by how hooky it turned out to be.

The album opens with ‘Theme’, a short instrumental that feels like big hello. Guitars coil round each other in a looping pattern that hints at surf, sci fi and something slightly scorched. When the riff kicks in you can tell this band love Teenage Fanclub. It’s almost like Raymond has joined the band.

‘Transfixed Gaze’ steps in with a brighter jangle. Josie’s voice cuts through with something both sweet and resigned bringing to mind Clare Grogan. The song moves in tight circles, the guitars ringing like held breath. There is a tired sadness hidden inside the bounce, the kind that comes from living in a town that feels too small. The hook is instant, but the feeling underneath gives it weight.

Then ‘PSYOPs’ drifts into something looser and more hypnotic. The tempo cools. The guitars wobble and shimmer like an old TV signal. There is a repeated almost looped line in the throughout the song that hits like a weary confession, and it becomes the spine of the whole track. It’s when that lovely bass heavy guitar solo comes in that the song really breathes.

‘Pyro’ knocks everything sideways. Fast, sharp, jittery. A rush of guitars and a vocal that sounds thrilled and terrified at the same time. When the line “It is a nice day honey for burning everything” lands, it comes with a grin. It is sly, dangerous, a little gleeful. This is where the guitars start to snarl openly and I’m here for it.

‘Let’s Make A Tulpa!’ arrives like a familiar friend. The rhythm section locks in, the guitars crunch, and the chorus blows the roof off. There is real joy here. The song is a burst of colour, but it also hides something stranger underneath. The idea of conjuring a lover makes you smile at first, then sit up a bit straighter. It is both catchy and uncanny, which turns out to be Tulpa’s favourite trick.

The title track settles into a slacker sway. A different vocal tone steps forward here, more laconic, more shrugged than shouted. The Malkmus / Pavement influence is worn on the bands sleeve here. The groove behind it is warm and lazy, but the lyric carries the sting of someone who has lived through too many bad weeks in a row.

‘Stick Figure Boy’ stretches out into a slow-motion sprawl. You get a cartoon character drawn in thick black lines. The band lean into the looseness, letting the guitars wander without ever losing shape. This track is as much about the space left than the melody itself.

‘You are Living In A Reverie’ switches the tone. Bright guitars. A vocal that feels half exasperated, half in awe. The lyric pulls together talk of permanence, legacy, and strange leaps into fantasy, then drops the simple invitation “Let us take a ride on a UFO baby somewhere in a dream.” That lands with a grin.

‘Amateur Hour’ softens everything. Stripped back, clear and open. Kirk sounds exposed here. The line “I left your heart to starve” lands like a small, quiet punch. This is as close to a ballad as your likely to get from this band.

Then Tulpa slam you back into the noise with ‘Raw Nerve’, all sharp edges and frantic momentum. The guitars scrape and jab, the drums hammer forward, and the tension runs high enough that you can practically feel it in your teeth. It is the wildest track on the album, and it earns that energy.

‘Whose Side Are You On?’ closes things out with a gentle sprawl. A laconic vocal, a loose sway, a chorus that sits somewhere between a shrug and a plea. There is a moment mid song where the line “I hoard dreams like antiques” floats past, and that felt like the whole album in one breath. This is music made by people who live half in the real world and half in some glowing inner place where stories mutate and feelings grow teeth.

Tulpa have made an album that feels playful on the surface but full of shadows beneath. Every track offers a hook to grab and a corner to explore. It is strange, catchy, human, and oddly warm, even when the monsters move closer. It’s definitely what I’d call a band in progress we’re hearing here. The Pavement and Fanclub nods are a bit too on the nose, but there are flashes of what they will ultimately sound like.

Monster Of The Week is out now via Skep Wax. Follow the band on the Tulpa Bandcamp page.

You can follow Tulpa on social media here…

Thought Bubble – A Made Up World EP

I always look forward to new music from pals of the blog, Thought Bubble. There is something about the way they work that feels homespun and magical. Three people tucked away in the Shropshire hills, building strange sound worlds and letting the rest of us wander through them at our own pace. Chris Cordwell on synths, Nick Raybould on percussion, and Peter Gelf on vocals. A trio who never repeat themselves, even when you think you know their next move.

I’ve followed them for a while now. From the early instrumental records to the big shift that came with Gelf joining the fold. That moment opened up a whole new way of telling stories. You hear it on Universe Zero. You feel it on Mostly True. Yet A Made Up World does not lean on those albums for comfort. It glances back for half a second then pulls the shutters up on something more immediate and more human. Four songs. Four chances to step into a room that feels at once familiar and completely new.

Let’s get into it.

‘First Cigarette’ opens the EP with a slow burn (see what I did there). A patient build, a steady pulse, and a vocal that sounds like someone recalling a memory they are not sure they should share. The synths stretch out across the track like soft fabric, never crowding the space yet never falling away either. Raybould’s percussion keeps everything gently unsettled. Not tense, just alive. Thought Bubble are in no rush here. They give you room to settle in, to follow the turns at your own speed. The track invites you closer without ever forcing itself on you.

‘Cheat Codes’ shifts the mood immediately. The rhythm takes on a looser bounce, almost playful in the way it nudges the vocal forward. Gelf sounds more conversational here, like he is talking to someone across the table rather than performing for a crowd. Cordwell fills the space with synth details that flicker in and out of view. Mimicking computer game soundtracks but nothing showy. Just small touches that keep your ear engaged. Thought Bubble have always had a knack for letting the rhythm do the heavy lifting and you feel that again here. The whole thing flows with a steady swing that anchors the song beautifully.

‘Radio Mast’ feels like the moment the EP opens up. The melody lands instantly. The Bowie-esque vocal carries a calm confidence that pulls you right into its centre. The synth lines sweep around the edges of the song, giving it warmth without weighing it down. Nick’s percussion threads through everything with purpose, but it never steals focus. There is a clarity to this track that really stands out. It feels like the band are letting us see the framework behind their ideas, keeping everything grounded and letting the emotional core shine through.

‘Floating Up The Steeple’ closes the EP with a honed sense of elevation. The tempo sits back and the arrangement feels open enough to breathe yet detailed enough to reward a second, third, fourth listen. Synths rise in gentle waves while the tribal percussion hums underneath like a steady heartbeat. There is a hypnotic and meditative quality to this one that brings the whole release together. The final moments feel almost weightless, a soft release after everything that came before. Ending with a track like this shows real confidence.

A Made Up World is a small EP with a big presence. Grounded, human, and full of that unmistakable Thought Bubble character. You can hear three musicians working in complete trust with one another. Nothing feels rushed. Nothing feels forced. They give each idea the space it needs then move on before anything starts to fade.

A Made Up World is out now. You can check it out over on the Thought Bubble Bandcamp page.

You can follow Thought Bubble on social media here…

Adele Dazeem – Metanoia EP

If you follow me, you’ll know I always get a wee thrill when Sonic Cathedral announce something new. This is my second Sonic Cathedral review in a single week, I don’t know how Nat does it but he just has a knack for finding bands who excite and challenge me in equal measure. That was enough to make me curious about East London trio Adele Dazeem before I even had a listen.

Charlie Hearl, Philippe O’Connor and Frank Andrews have been together since forming in 2020, and you can hear that steady evolution in every corner of their sound. The name itself comes from that infamous John Travolta moment, but they’ve turned a misread joke into something meaningful, a prompt to explore identity, ego and the parts of ourselves we dodge or distort.

Let’s see what this EP sounds like.

‘Misère’ snaps the EP into life with tension that never quite settles. The guitars flicker around the rhythm section, sharp and restless, and the vocals float above it all like a spectral sound. Then it kicks in and we’re off. This is some pacy, dark gaze and I’m immediately hooked. Apparently, the song is named for a self-sabotaging play in cards, one where you attempt to lose every hand. That said this track is a winner and gets us off to a cracking start.

Up next ‘Deep Sea Hand’ takes that same pressure and pulls you under. The song stretches out across nearly seven minutes, but never once loses its grip on you. The band use the time to build a slow rising wave of emotion, starting with something muted and buried, then letting it swell until it hits a moment of release that feels earned. When the tempo lifts after the midway point it’s like coming back to the surface after realising how long you’ve been holding everything in. It’s a gorgeous piece of writing, full of small details that reward you when you go back for a second listen.

‘Mezanin’ feels like a reckoning point. There’s a kind of clarity in the way the band lock into a steady, unblinking groove. The motorik guitar tones smear and hum, the drums stay patient, and the vocals move between detachment and something rawer. It mirrors the EP’s theme of facing the parts of yourself you’d rather tuck away, and it lands with real weight.

The title track ‘Metanoia’ ties the whole journey together. Hearl has this to say.

“That is a fragile song, made up of many phases of anger, patience, love and acceptance towards ourselves and others. The EP closes in a kind of exasperated clarity. A final call to recognise how easily our past haunts the present, and how urgently we must meet it, if we want to truly change our mind.”

There’s a glow to the song that is felt in every second of its run time. The band lean into atmosphere without losing their footing, giving it space to breathe and expand. It closes the EP with the quiet confidence of a group who know exactly what they want to say, and aren’t afraid to sit in the darker corners to get there.

Adele Dazeem have made something really special here. The Metanoia EP feels like a real statement of intent. Like they’re saying this is who we are. Each track pushes a different part of you forward and by the time the title track lands, you totally get it. You totally get it and want to join them. It’s the sound of a band stepping into their own story with purpose and conviction, and if this is their first chapter, I can only imagine where they go from here.

Metanoia EP is out now via Sonic Cathedral. You can check it out over on the Adele Dazeem Bandcamp page.

You can follow Adele Dazeem on social media here…

Sister Ray Davies – Holy Island

I first brushed up against Sister Ray Davies when their debut single ‘War Machine (The Purpose Of A System Is What It Does)’ crossed my path. I didn’t manage to snag a copy on vinyl which still stings every time I think about it. I did play it on my DKFM show though and that was enough to plant the seed that this duo were onto something special. So, when the album, Holy Island, arrived, I went in curious. A debut from a pair of Americans making a concept record about a tiny religious outpost off the northeast coast of England is not something you see every week.

Sister Ray Davies are Adam Morrow and Jamie Sego. Two musicians working in the famed recording capital of Muscle Shoals, surrounded by the Tennessee River and the long shadows of soul history, yet dreaming of wind battered monasteries and ancient stones. They tracked the record in the old Muscle Shoals Sound studio, now Portside Sound, with that studio’s warmth humming beneath everything.

Morrow has talked about how the story of Lindisfarne helped them unravel their own thoughts about the world today.

“The story of Lindisfarne gave us a framework for what were otherwise very abstract ideas and emotions, it became a way to make sense of our own moment in history.“

“We really want our lives and societies to always get better, and to be left alone to make that happen. But we are stuck in these cycles of progress and regression, and I think most people are really driven to make sense of it and assign meaning.”

Let’s drop the needle and see where our thoughts carry us.

‘Lindisfarne’ opens the album and instantly we’re transported. The sounds of a roaring campfire and the waves lapping on the beach welcome us into their world. It’s a gentle and calm welcome; no hurry is taken to introduce all elements of their sound. Instead, we get a hypnotic mantra like vocal against a minimal guitar and synth pattern. Superbly confident and gets us in the right frame of mind for the journey ahead.

We head from one holy isle to another next with ‘Iona’. Now we hear the full extent of the bands sound. Driving drums and an insistent acoustic guitar strum power this track. Almost motorik in its approach the mournful lead guitar almost fights against the forward motion and is always subsumed by the sheer energy of the backing.

‘Aidan’ brings in backing vocals from Natalie Morrow which adds a lovely lift to the track. Her voice works like a soft colour wash against the fuzzier edge of the guitars. It continues the musical theme of ‘Iona’ but brings in a tremolo effect to take us off in new direction. I love the break down passages where the track suddenly opens up and a gently plucked guitar takes over, ever so momentarily.

Up next ‘Big Ships’ carries a more direct energy. The hook sticks with you right away. Guitars chime, fuzz bass rumbles underneath, and everything clicks. It has that knack the best shoegaze pop moments have. A sense that the song is moving forward even when it feels suspended in place. One of the clear highlights of an already outstanding record.

The title track ‘Holy Island’ appears like a tiny interlude, a short tone poem that acts as a small doorway into the next phase of the record. These little touches always charm me. They show a band thinking about pacing and about how a record feels as a whole.

‘Rowans’ comes in with a looser stride. This song has a swagger that’s undeniable. It’s uplifting and joyous throwing off the weight of the day and running barefoot across the sand. If I had to pick a favourite song from the album, and it would be a really tight decision, this would be it. It makes me smile every time I hear it.

‘Nave’ is short and inward looking. A reflective moment that clears the air. Synths shake the air while gentle guitar lines linger for the moment then vanish. It works like a reset before the final stretch.

That reset comes with a bang as ‘Cloisters’ kicks in. A euphoric instrumental that blooms from a pulsating synth piece into a cosmic space jam that will have you punching the air. This song is built for the big stages and if these guys play any festivals I guarantee it will get feet moving.

‘Morning Bell’ closes the album with the fullest emotional reach. The build is is slow and steady. The band take their time, letting guitars swell then settle, leaning into a patient rise that rewards you every time. Its moody but never maudlin. Dark without being depressing. It’s like night falling on the beach with the sound of the abbey bell bidding us farewell. A beautiful closer.

Holy Island is a rare debut. Thoughtful, melodic and full of intent without ever becoming heavy handed. The lads have built something that feels as if it has always existed. You sense the fun they had making it and the meaning they found inside it. I really struggled to find musical parallels to help you understand who they are and the noise they make. I can only think of the Beachy Head project for a couple of the songs. Other than that, this is very much its own thing and if you let it, it might very well become yours too.

Holy Island is out now via Sonic Cathedral and Well Kept Secret. You can check it out over on the Sister Ray Davies Bandcamp page.

You can follow Sister Ray Davies on social media here…

Son of The Right Hand – Pscenic Root

I do like it when I hear a band descriptor I’ve never come across before. Glasgow’s Son of The Right Hand are a case in point. To my shame I had never heard of them before, but within minutes of pressing play on Pscenic Root, I knew I was onto something special. Their sound, which they describe as “folkedelic nugaze,” is as intriguing as it sounds. It’s a haze of psychedelia, post-rock and strange, spectral folk.

The five-piece consisting of Éireann Sheridan, Benjamin Stewart, Hector Laidlaw, Owen “Cosmo” Fyfe, and Sandy MacCallum bring different shades to that mix, all orbiting around Éireann’s haunting voice and Benjamin’s restless guitar.

Sheridan gives us this insight.

“The EP’s name is a bit of an inside joke about how long it’s taken us to get here, but also a nod to how our roots have shaped the path. It’s been a long road, but it feels incredible to finally share something that’s raw, immersive, and true to us.”

Let’s dive in and see if the descriptor matches the sounds.

The record opens with ‘Bad Tooth’, a slow-burning piece that feels like it’s pulling you under water. The guitars twist you in uncomfortable ways, chords hang unresolved, and the vocals creep in like thoughts you can’t quite shake. There’s tension in every second. It’s not polished; it’s raw and human. The song builds to a dense, claustrophobic ending that feels less like a release and more like a reckoning. It’s a powerful way to set the tone.

‘Anhedonia’ follows with a jolt of energy. Where the opener brooded, this one moves with purpose. Fuzzy guitars, crisp drums, and a melody that clings to your mind long after. It’s one of the most immediate tracks here, and you can sense why it was released as their debut single. There’s something slightly unhinged about the rhythm section. Cosmo’s drumming never quite sits still, and that’s the charm. The song feels alive, almost like it’s teetering on the edge of chaos, yet Éireann’s voice keeps it grounded, tender but unflinching.

‘Refuweegie (The House Isn’t Full)’ sits right at the centre of the EP and it’s where everything comes together. It’s a slow, expansive track built around repetition and space, taking inspiration from the 2021 Kenmure Street protests which served to remind the world that we Scots view anyone who chooses Scotland as their home, Scottish. We’re all Jock Tamson’s bairns here. You can feel that sense of solidarity and unease running through it. The lyrics walk the line between empathy and anger, questioning what it means to belong. Musically, it’s layered in ways that pull you deeper each listen. Ghostly harmonies, looping guitars, and a low hum that feels almost physical. It’s the beating heart of Pscenic Root.

‘Kilter’ is a storm of a track. Eight minutes of rhythmic collapse and rebirth. This one was apparently born during a rainstorm at Fuzzface Studios, and they even sampled that weather into the track. You can hear it too. The rhythm falls apart and reforms, like thunder rolling in the distance. It’s sprawling but never loses focus. The guitar lines seem to argue with each other, the vocals slip between clarity and murk, and when it finally locks into a groove, it’s euphoric. This is Son of The Right Hand at their most fearless.

‘Closed Doors’ closes the EP with something gentler, but no less intense. It’s intimate, almost confessional, the kind of song that sounds like it’s being whispered directly into your ear. The band strip things right back here, giving the voices room to breathe. Partly spoken word there’s a quiet power in the restraint. After all the noise and swirl of what came before, it feels like the lights have dimmed and everyone’s catching their breath. Until that final section where the band invoke the storm once more to send us off with the wind at our heels.

Pscenic Root feels like a debut EP made with conviction. The band have found a language that’s all their own, messy, beautiful, and defiantly honest. It’s music that refuses to look away, whether it’s examining the state of the world or the turmoil within. I’m struggling to find bands that I could point you to for musical reference. Maybe the experimental structures of My Latest Novel coupled with the noise of Edinburgh School For the Deaf. All I know is for a first encounter, it’s left a mark. I can’t wait to see where this path leads next.

Pscenic Root is out now. You can check it out over on the Son of The Right Hand Bandcamp page.

You can follow Son of The Right Hand on social media here…