“More shoegaze. MORE SHOEGAZE. MOAR!” is what my inner editorial consultant tends to say. I’m OK with this.
Tape Deck Mountain is one of those acts whose choice in name is way too questionable (or not ironic enough?) for how seriously good the material is. You can tell that principle member Travis Trevisan knows his stuff. This, of course, is the problem with so many nouveau shoegaze artists, though — they put My Bloody Valentine and Loveless on such a high pedestal that all the output sounds dull and derivative, like a copy of a copy of a copy. But TDM seems to have a grasp on the demure moodiness that made the early 90s movement so alluring: it’s like he set up a playdate with a tremolo pedal and a whammy bar in a zero gravity chamber. Continue reading →
Sludgy shit is my jam. I love wading through harsh noise and crunchy bass to find a killer melody. WRITER, a duo of brothers James and Andy Ralph based in Brooklyn, follows through on the idea, putting together “IE,” which sounds like prom on a handful of downers and turned to 11. Continue reading →