Sleep Experiments’ delicate, unassuming take on ambient dreampop and slowcore consistently conjure up autumn’s chillier climes.
It’s difficult for me to listen to these songs and not imagine that I’m listening to music culled, in some fashion, directly from the duo’s long-lost childhood memories.
Northern Valentine’s latest conjures up massive, ominous soundscapes that beckon to be explored by patient listeners.
Last Fast Ride is a portrait of a truly troubled and fractured soul, and her often shocking attempts to strike back at the pain at the center of her life.
RIYL Hammock’s guitar-based ambience, Robin Guthrie’s solo recordings, and Stars of the Lid.
A letdown in almost every possible way imaginable, which is all the more disappointing because the storyline and setting has potential.
A solid debut, as well as one of the best and most gripping shoegazer releases I’ve heard in months.
A fascinating paradox has been at work in the heart of lovesliescrushing’s music for two decades now.
Language of Landscape’s final release is a graceful, evocative end for the duo.
Tholen’s latest is another fine example of his “Christ-centered chipwave.”
Though a bit uneven in places, Carlos Forster’s self-titled debut still evokes the magic of those old For Stars albums, and his voice sounds as good as ever.
Though less psychedelic than In Gowan Ring, Birch Book finds B’eirth crafting music that is just as lovely and haunting.
Lovesliescrushing’s latest is a free download that serves as an excellent introduction to their abstract form of shoegazer ambience.
If the thought of a band likely decked out in leather, chains, spikes and/or corpse paint ripping through the theme to My Neighbor Totoro fills you with delight, then this is the album for you.
A lovely blend of warm, earthy folk and left-field experimental music.
Pearson’s songs pull no punches as he chronicles all of the ugly, nasty, and shitty things that bring about a relationship’s end.
This is good, honest, soul-stirring music of the finest kind, music that never feels the need to announce itself or overstate its worth.
Proof that quieter and subtler can prove more impactful and haunting than any barrage of monstrous or terrifying sounds.
Cadiz’s self-released debut conjures up June Carter Cash and Patsy Cline as much as Joanna Newsom.