Category: MP3s

“Cut Stitch Scar” – CocoRosie

Expansive, idiosyncratic art rock

“Cut Stitch Scar” – CocoRosie

As adventurous and idiosyncratic as ever, the Casady sisters are back with their singular brand of expansive, inscrutable art rock. Alternately heavy and restrained, changing rhythms and tones at will, “Cut Stitch Scar” traffics in one of CocoRosie’s superpowers, which is the capacity to be experimental and accessible at the same time. Even as it takes a while to get one’s arms around this one as a whole experience, the song’s initial urgency brings the listener in without hesitation. Bianca Casady sings with that child-like warble of hers, but rather than hesitancy it conveys authority. The lyrics urge us to “Take a leap of faith,” and that’s just what listening to CocoRosie demands. You’re not going to know what they’re singing about, you’re not going to anticipate or necessarily vibe with all of their musical choices, but it’s so clear that they know what they’re doing that I see no reason not to jump in with them.

That said, this song maybe needs a few listens. It starts blippy and glitchy, quickly acquires a satisfying percussive groove, and starts, lyrically, in the middle of some sort of dramatic, dimly understood circumstance, perhaps a dream. The tempo, and much of the instrumentation, disappears at the tail end of the verse and into the chorus. Electronics mix with heavenly backing vocals. The lyrics, as ever with the Casadys, may often baffle but they always always scan. The groove returns, vanishes, returns. Rubbery synths are heard. Vocals get distorted. But we never get too far away from satisfying chords. That may be one of the things that keeps the song legible to the ear, however weird it gets: those satisfying chords.

Bianca and Sierra–who identify as part Native American–had an unorthodox, peripatetic childhood, moving regularly, living in a variety of different states, and being exposed to a variety of bizarre, New Age-y experiences, some more disconcerting than others. Their history together as musicians is by now too long and involved to summarize, but you can read a little more about them via the three previous times they’ve been featured on Fingertips: in 2007, 2010, and 2017.

“Cut Stitch Scar” is a song from the forthcoming album Little Death Wishes, arriving at the end of March on Joyful Noise Records. It’s the duo’s eighth album, dating back to their 2004 debut.

photo credit: Kate Russell

Kufsat Shimurim – Afor Gashum

Urgent, atmospheric, post-punk-ish

“Kufsat Shimurim” – Afor Gashum

At once urgent and atmospheric, “Kufsat Shimurim” churns post-punk-ishly, augmented by the canny use of random sounds and sound effects. The song takes its time to unfold, as the instrumental palette–guitars, bass, drum, noise–marks out a series of chords presented in a clipped, persistent rhythm. When they start (0:43), lead singer Michal Sapir’s pure, high-ranging vocals, in Hebrew, offer an effective counterbalance to the murk and clangor in the background. At the song’s midway climax, the instrumental break transitions from the legible to the abstract, as various electronic tones interject atonally but compellingly. Even without understanding a word of what’s being said I get a very 2024-ish sense of light struggling for footing in the darkness.

Based in Tel Aviv, Afor Gashum is a trio that self-identifies as a “long-standing and prominent member of Israel’s underground dissident music scene.” After a well-regarded debut cassette in 1989, the band, going their separate ways, did not record another album until 2013, but have been intermittently releasing albums ever since. “Kufsat Shimurim” is a track from their fifth album, Temperature, released last month. According to the band, the song grew out of Sapir’s participation in something called the Noise Agency, which was an artist residency program in Tel Aviv dedicated, broadly, to the art of sound. Sapir was specifically involved in a project that involved sending people out to make “various sound interventions” in public urban spaces. The song itself, says the band, “examines the possibility of a group of sonic agitators to introduce a different voice, foreign and subversive.”

And because I cannot directly understand the song’s lyrics, I will leave you as well with what strikes me as a powerful mission statement for Temperature, via the album’s Bandcamp page:

At a time when the struggle for justice and equality for all feels more urgent than ever, Temperature sets out to explore unstable harmonic territories, possible science-fictional worlds and transformative emotions, in a bid to imagine a different future – more interconnected, responsible, equal and just.

“Two Feet Tall” – Ciao Malz

Bright and slightly woozy

“Two Feet Tall” – Ciao Malz

“Two Feet Tall” is brisk and bright and slightly woozy; between the pleasant warble of the guitars and the off-center time signature shifts, the music here effectively mirrors the uncertain state of mind the song appears to be concerned with. Malz has a feathery voice that sounds natural and matter-of-fact, one of those singing voices that, while definitely singing, sounds like talking. (This is a compliment.) The music hustles along in the verse then gets a little whiplashy with that half-time chorus. The lyrics address a certain sort of failure to communicate, epitomized by the recurring line “But I can never tell, quite tell you stuff.” As this line, repeating later, shortens to “I can never tell,” the connotation is smartly complicated. The overall vibe is friendly and cozy and slightly befuddled. This is also a compliment.

Keep an ear on the dizzy guitars all the way through, but note in particular the short warped solo that happens between 1:08 and 1:19. That’s my kind of detail. Another: the abrupt ending, after a final “I can never tell, quite tell you stuff,” which is one last way that form and content echo one another here.

Ciao Malz is the stage name adopted by the Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Malia DelaCruz. “Two Feet Tall” is a track from her cleverly named EP Safe Then Sorry, released earlier this month on the Audio Antihero label. She had previously self-released an EP called To Go in 2020. Check the new one out over on Bandcamp.

photo credit: Alex SK Brown

“Candles” – Sunset Rubdown

Intricate and engaging

“Candles” – Sunset Rubdown

A dash of compositional complexity in an otherwise catchy song is my kind of good time. The Montreal band Sunset Rubdown, fronted by Wolf Parade’s Spencer Krug, emerges from a long hiatus to offer this syncopated bit of what sounds like prog pop, which is apparently a (minor) thing. It’s intricate, engaging, and does its business in just over three minutes. Prog pop!

The first thing to notice is the stop-start-y keyboard lines, which both introduce and underpin the song. A heavy bass tone adds deep ground while the flowing, descending melody of the verse, working on top of and against the ascending keyboard figures, gives the song its signature feeling of compelling intricacy. Another feature that pits one characteristic against an oppositional counterpart are the backing vocals provided by keyboardist Camilla Wynne, which add warmth to Krug’s edgier tone. Just as you’re getting the hang of it, and perhaps noticing that there’s no guitar involved, the edifice pretty much breaks down halfway through (1:29) via a short, muddy bridge that makes a veiled reference to the pandemic. Order returns when the keyboard lines re-establish themselves (2:02) and accompany us to the end, with a cheeky few plinks on the piano seeing us out.

Spencer Krug first made his mark on the indie rock scene at the head of the band Wolf Parade, which launched back in 2003, and has been active as recently as 2022. He debuted Sunset Rubdown in 2005, initially as a solo project but soon enough as a band, only to put it to bed by 2009, despite critical acclaim for the three full-band albums. “Candles” was originally recorded in 2020 as a solo effort by Krug, but when the band found themselves reunited–minus a guitarist–they decided to give the song another go and this is what happened. “Candles” is the third track of nine on the band’s new album, Always Happy to Explode, which was released last month. You can listen to it, and buy it, on Bandcamp.

“Condensation” – Sports Team

Sloppy-tight vibe

“Condensation” – Sports Team

So here we’re back to a standard backbeat (see previous review for context)–although maybe not quite. The emphasis is on the two and the four, the very definition of a backbeat, but at the same time the beat also manages, somehow, to swing. I think this has to do with the way lead vocalist Alex Rice toys with the melody, regularly hitting his marks ever so slightly ahead of the actual beat. (Don’t try this at home; it’s harder to do than it seems.) Consider it part of the song’s sloppy-tight vibe–just like the lyrics themselves, in the verse, which spill out in something of a stream and yet, if you pay attention, scan perfectly with the energetic melody.

Somewhat unusually, Sports Team is a six-person band, and everyone is surely doing something here, in service of the crowd-friendly ambiance, although it’s difficult to know who’s doing what when. There are melodic leaps, horn charts, gang-style backing vocals, keyboard glissandos, you name it. (There’s even a reference to “fingertips,” which I can’t help hearing.) Enough is happening such that we only get the verse melody twice, as the song’s busy construction provides us with what sounds like not only a pre-chorus and a chorus but, potentially, either a two-part post-chorus (is that even a thing?) or a post-chorus and a bridge. We can leave the structural analysis to more exacting minds than mine; I’ll take the welcoming beat and agile melodicism and be quite happy.

Based in London, Sports Team was founded in 2016, when five of the six bandmates were studying at Cambridge University. “Condensation” is a track from their forthcoming third album, Boys These Days, slated to arrive in February.

“Broken Ceilings” – Morgan Swihart

Simmering with intention

“Broken Ceilings” – Morgan Swihart

Smoky and deliberate, “Broken Ceilings” simmers with intention, unfolding on top of a wide-ranging if elusive instrumental palette. The drums are front and center, the electric guitar occasionally steps forward, a piano vamps a bit and disappears; strings, too–or synthesized strings?–provide texture and drama; an athletic bass line lends subtle movement. Are there horns, actual or digital, in here too? No matter. It turns out to be far less about individual lines and more about how the amalgam produces a swelling, wall-of-sound feeling, of a sort you might get from putting a rock band into a blender with a small orchestra. (Don’t try that at home either.)

The song launches, minus introduction, straight into the verse’s melody, with its languorous ascent, Swihart’s resonant voice extending her notes out there on the borderline between shy and coy. You can sense from the start that the song is aiming in the direction of Big, and cumulatively, we get there, even as Swihart seems surely to be holding something back, in a good way. I’m an ongoing fan of restraint, and, counterintuitively, that’s what is ultimately on display here, despite the buildup, the eventual volume, the unbridled bashing of drums. You can hear it in the way the melody ongoingly steps down to resolve, in the spaces Swihart leaves from line to line, and, a closing touch, at the very end, in the way she modestly slides away.

Morgan Swihart is a singer/songwriter based in Brooklyn. “Broken Ceilings” is a song from her short, appealing album of the same name, released in June. You can check it out on Spotify. A previous album, The Grave, was released last year.

“Rob Me Blind” – Sweet Unrest

Cheeky, catchy neo-Britpop

“Rob Me Blind” – Sweet Unrest

“Rob Me Blind” is a brisk, charming bit of neo-Britpop, with ukulele. Owing something to the Strokes and/or early Cure, the London-based Sweet Unrest smash a lot of melody and guitar into three minutes, including a closing section that all but flies off the rails before getting tidily swept back up into the song’s stalwart instrumental hook and sweet “ooh-oohs,” and leaving me with a smile on my face, even as I’m not at all sure what all they’re singing about or why I’m smiling.

The same sweet “ooh-oohs” are in fact the first thing we hear, and the aforementioned ukulele. Normal enough instrumentation–guitar, bass, drums–then lead us into the song’s head-bopping rhythm and clipped, sing-song-y melody, delivered by a very British Jack River. But something feels a little off kilter here, in a good way. I like the ear-catching “hiccups” in the melody (e.g. 0:49-0:59); the dreamy background vocals heard shortly thereafter are at once lovely and kind of wacky. And what these vocals are accompanying is the song’s most incisive element: the ringing lead guitar line (first heard at 1:02). Hearing it prompted the realization that this sort of guitar line, which functions as a full-fledged hook, has all but disappeared as the 21st century has aged; it’s concise, melodic, up front, and emerges unexpectedly but organically in the song’s middle section. As for River’s semi-unhinged vocals in the song’s final third, they align with the band’s embrace of a certain amount of commotion, and for me the payoff is the falsetto note Rivers hits in the middle of the carrying-on (2:18), a pitch-perfect melodic enhancement at a surprising moment.

Self-proclaimed fans of classic poetry, Sweet Unrest derived its name from the Keats poem “Bright Star.” Following their self-titled debut EP in 2023, the band has released four singles in 2024, of which “Rob Me Blind” is the most recent.

“Tamarindo Sunsets” – Sam Weber

Tender, melancholy solace

“Tamarindo Sunsets” – Sam Weber

With its feathery piano playing, gently emotive vocals, and lovely melodies, “Tamarindo Sunsets” feels like slow, melancholy solace in a moment overwhelmed here in the U.S. by rapid-fire digital idiocy. The lyrics are precise but evade direct comprehension. The singer sings from a place of hurt; the titular phrase are the first words we hear but they don’t recur. Tamarindo is a beach town in Costa Rica, and (maybe?) stands in for something more enticing in the imagination than it turns out to be. In addition to the soft, evocative piano, I’d draw your attention to the muted bass notes, so velvety they all but melt into the song’s tender ambiance.

The repeated lyric that sticks most obviously out is the singer’s claim to be “going offline ’til the end of time,” which I’ll admit sounds more and more like a lovely idea. I can’t be sure of singer/songwriter Sam Weber’s intent here but it feels like an example of failed will in the face of life’s disappointments. Who after all can go offline ’til the end of time? Especially as the song’s narrator still wants to know what’s going on (“When there’s something new/Can you text it to me?”)

“Tamarindo Sunsets” is the lead track on Clear + Plain, Weber’s fourth album, released last month. He also has an EP and a couple of singles. You can check everything out on Bandcamp.

“July 4” – Mondo Cozmo

Moody & purposeful, with that Hal Blaine beat

“July 4” – Mondo Cozmo

I’ll admit I’m a sucker for the Hal Blaine drum beat (think “Be My Baby”), but that’s not the only thing going for the moody, purposeful “July 4,” from the new Mondo Cozmo album. There is a clear whiff of Springsteen in the air here as well–in an encouraging, homage-y way rather than a retread-y way. The title is part of it (July 4 might be seen as referencing two different Bruce tunes) but there’s also Cozmo’s world-weary, determined vocals, which build from a Nebraska-esque mumble/whisper to the higher register urgings of the chorus. One might also consider the song’s narrative a bit on the Boss-y side–an elusive story that appears to involve ne’er-do-wells in over their heads. And oh yeah there’s a river in here too.

While the song simmers with its persistent beat and offers partial build-ups, note that we never get any Bruce-style, full-throated deliverance. Instead, the chorus keeps to the same steady thump while the verse melody is inverted but retains the disciplined, in-between moments, now augmented with some sonorous synth flairs in the background. Keep an ear on those synth sounds moving forward–beginning around 1:57 they have this lovely way of sustaining notes before and through the verse that are not part of the underlying chord, providing a background hint of atonality that, somehow, grounds the music all the more resolutely. And then, as the song approaches a would-be climax, the sound peels back at 3:18 with some distant asynchronous arpeggios, leading us, unexpectedly, into something that sounds like a children’s chorus, delivering a poignant series of wordless “ahs.” We get one more taste of the chorus to wrap things up, and while I’m not sure much has changed it sounds all the more heroic this last time through.

Mondo Cozmo–birth name Josh Ostrander–is a singer-songwriter/producer based in Philadelphia. He began recording as Mondo Cozmo in 2016; “July 4” is a track from It’s PRINCIPLE!, the fourth Mondo album, released at the end of August on Last Gang Records. MP3 via Last Gang. Ostrander was previously featured on Fingertips in 2007, when he fronted the band Eastern Conference Champions, who played together from 2005 to 2015.

“You Know What You’re Doing” – Orbis Max and Tim Izzard

Smartly crafted, accomplished pop rock

“You Know What You’re Doing” – Orbix Max and Tim Izzard

This is a community service announcement to remind you that there are plenty of interesting and accomplished people doing interesting and accomplished things, online, that do not attract the attention of the viral-infatuated masses and/or clickbait-oriented websites. I would venture to say that some if not most of these people may be entirely satisfied avoiding the harsh glare of virality. At least, I hope they are. Me, I remain maddened as ever by our collective penchant for assessing worth via instant popularity. And I grow increasingly intrigued by talented souls plying their trade in the relative dark.

Take Orbis Max, a so-called “internet recording collective” that, as it turns out, long predates the internet. Launched as a regular, in-person band in California back in the 1970s, Orbis Max band members drifted into different locations over time, but re-formed once the internet made recording separately from a distance a viable option. The band retains two original members, has four ongoing bandmates, while also working collaboratively with a rotating cast of outside musicians as the spirit moves. And no, they are not setting the world on fire in terms of streams and views. But they put together something like “You Know What You’re Doing” and yes, it’s clear from the opening guitar riff, jaunty and melodic, that Orbis Max themselves know what they’re doing. The melody, with its well-placed minor chords, shimmers with an early-rock’n’roll nostalgia even as it sounds fetching in the here and now. Dw Dunphy’s vocals are at once sturdy and vulnerable, with the tone of a classic rocker wandering into vaguely unknown territory.

And what a smartly crafted song, the construction of which includes, by my estimation, not merely a robust bridge (in these bridge-deprived times) but a bridge that arrives early in the song, where the second verse might otherwise be. At this point, on the words “Even now” (1:08), the voices become layered, gang-vocal style, with an unexpected but congruous whiff of Springsteen in the mix. (Dunphy is based in Monmouth County, New Jersey; could be something in the water.) The early bridge, if that’s what it is, is in any case, aurally, part of the song’s ongoing sense of continuing development; listen in particular to the intermittent sprinkles of lead guitar (including an incisive coda) and to the changing nature of the backing vocals.

“You Know What You’re Doing” was co-written by guitarist Don Baake and guest musician Tim Izzard, who is based in the UK. Recurring core Orbis Max members are currently located in Texas, California, and the aforementioned New Jersey; other regulars are located in North Carolina, Arizona, and Liverpool, among other places. Dunphy is new to the band in the scheme of things, having joined in 2022, following a long stint as a singer/songwriter/one-man-band. “You Know What You’re Doing,” was released as a single at the end of March. A new single was just released on May 1, entitled “Fields,” which you can check out on Bandcamp. Thanks to the band for the MP3.