Mumblr started out as a cooler, punkier version of Modest Mouse when they released their first EPs Rectangle and Rectangle Pt. 2, which were re-recorded and condensed into their White Jesus EP. Then they took a small turn toward the more emotional side when they released their split with Dark Orange Oriole Carving. Now, with Nutter, Mumblr fully embraced the fuzz punk. Each song is visceral, driving, and plain fun. They still bring the jams with this release, and embody the high energy, as well as musicianship, they have had on each release. But Nutter is faster and more raw than any of their previous releases. And it fits them completely. The four songs on this EP fully captures the energy they bring to their live set. From the first song to the last song, Nutter wraps ears inside several layers of heavy sounds and a static, but full atmosphere of sound.

Give Mumblr’s new EP Nutter a listen. Then give the rest of their material a listen. Then learn the words. Then go see them play. They are a great time. Below, check out their song “Space God” off of Nutter.

Much like a track runner, Granchildren see the benefit of getting off the block with the burst of energy that will maintain you through the finish line.  Momentum is key to Golden Age, the new album by Grandchildren, out May 7^th on Ernest Jenning. The album is big in scope and big in sound, though not maximalist. The album explores quite a few variations of their orchestral pop, while being a more cohesive compared to the band’s debut album Everlasting . For example, the percussion is brought to the forefront on the album and is constantly apparent – though never overwhelming – and never close to being redundant.

Awaking the album is the pulsing and humming “Sunrise,” with it’s tribal percussion, distant keys and ascending vibraphone. From the start you can hear the complexity of the arrangements, which flow into each other like bodies of water meeting and growing as an ocean. Without slowing down much the album progresses to the dreamy title track “Golden Age” and then into one of the standout tracks, “End Times.”

As you reach the middle of the album it opens up into a different kind of album where, instead of combining all the ‘essential’ parts of Grandchildren, like they did to begin the album, they explore the various directions their arrangements can go. This begins with the jumpy, precautionary track “No Way Out” which is highlighted by an idiosyncratic clapping part, otherworldly falsetto and wandering horns.  The atmosphere completely shifts for the next song to a gentle, calming surrounding, with something magical in the air. The light strumming, distant drums and lead singer Aleks Martray’s soft, and comforting voice all compliment each other in the beautiful song. Rounding out the middle of the album is the cinematic “Into Gold” which blooms in front of you, and does so elegantly.

The back of the album is less easier to define musically. “You Never Know” is one of the most restrained moments of the album. It shows the band’s musical chops, but does so in a different light.  On this album there are various moments where the songs can go in different directions, either going big or pulling back on the reins.  This album succeeds because, despite their large size and ability to go bigger, they choose to restrain compositions as a way to let them breathe.  The band, on their previous album, were working on defining their sound. Equally important to a band having a sound, though, is having a “voice” and a “vision.” On Golden Era, Grandchildren continue to evolve and mature their sound, while finding focus in their songwriting, arrangements, and studio performances.

Grandchildren celebrate their record release tonight at Johnny Brenda’s with support from The Lawsuits, Laser Background, DJ POW POW (Man Man’s Chris Powell).

Bad Braids’ Megan Biscieglia / Photo by Elizabeth Lennox

I didn’t set out to write a “walking” review of Bad Braids’ Supreme Parallel, but once I started I couldn’t stop finding the, uh, parallels, between the songs and the scenes around me. The second record from local singer-guitarist Megan Biscieglia’s dark art/folk project is a longtime journey of ritualistic storytelling and gypsy-like instrumental concoctions. There is a vein of solitude that runs deeply through the album, making it best experienced alone. For me, it was while walking through my neighborhood on a damp, overcast Monday morning when no one else seemed to be out in the world. Suddenly, my surroundings became foreign and open to interpretation, and my imagination went wild running through the songs on the record.

It hit me during “Clover,” (the third track off of the group’s intimate second record), that I was experiencing some form of serendipity. I passed a church on Hewson street just as a pickup truck drove by with a bed of bright, fresh flower arrangements. A funeral. Cars blocked the street with nobody in them, just tiny orange flags fluttering from their antennas. “Clover” is an eerie outcast of a song. It’s sounds like being a stranger passing a stranger’s funeral. It’s a different kind of lonely, with recurring Braids’ collaborator Paul Christian on organ creating haunting, church-based harmonies.

“Ships” dives deeper into that solitude, suggesting the idea of tiny vessels in the mind that can take you far away. You can embark on your own wild adventures without actually going anywhere. I pass a place called the Penn Home, which is carved out like the White House with red, white and blue flags and ribbons wrapping around every window and a well kept green yard out front, between right and left wings. It’s not until I see a tiny wooden sign on the corner of the building advertising “three meals daily, laundry and housekeeping,” that I realized I let my imagination sail away for awhile, maybe a little too far.

But it’s so easy to do with this record. Each song straddles the line between dream and reality through the introduction of exotic instrumental elements like the lap harp, theremin and the vibraphone. Biscieglia is an expert at vocal transitions, from soft, barely-there whispers to strong, stark serenades, she leads with melodies that are wintery and warm, like a hot, spiced something on a snowy night.

It’s interesting that there are so many instrumental collaborations on Supreme Parallel, considering how individualistic it still ends up sounding. Biscieglia chooses a wide array of choir-like characteristics to display throughout the record, enlisting in the help of a multitude friends including Paul Christian, Jesse Sparhawk and Mike Bruno (of the shamany-sounding Black Magic Family Band).

Most of the musicians Biscieglia selects to help out on this record are longtime contributors to her sound, also aiding in some of her live performances. Still, it’s no secret that her voice is the frontrunner of the project. While her contributors are experts at creating the perfect complimentary construct, even the theremin and wine glasses used in “Palace” can’t upstage her naturally haunting sound.

You can lose yourself in Supreme Parallel without even trying, though I suggest you try it.

Young Statues

The songs show an evident influence from pop-punk / indie bands most people growing up with the style of music will be able to recognize. On their Facebook page, some of the musical influences they cite that show profoundly in their songs are Weatherbox, Cursive, Bomb the Music Industry!, and Brand New. There are times in their songs when the vocalist sounds shockingly close to the latter’s Jesse Lacey. Which is great, because the vocalist is something to note. He has a great voice that is versatile. In order to be a band that spans genres, you need to have a voice that can cover the mood in the melodies. Adam Linder, vocalist and guitarist (as well as bassist on the records and songwriter for the band) is able to capture an array of emotionalism and power in his voice. When his voice needs to be sad, it traverses soundscapes of melancholy; at times when the jams are upbeat, his voice changes accordingly.

This kind of versatility is worth nothing, because a good or bad vocalist can make the band, or break the band, in this case it absolutely makes Sister CIty. The lyrics coincide, as well, with what is great about this band. With clever lines like, “I actually don’t have anything to say today / I actually don’t have anything” or “But when I taught myself to walk again / I respectfully declined the chance / And planted myself stubbornly instead / And I stared at the ground / And I found myself imagining / That it meant something profound / So I made meaning out of everything I found,” it’s easy to tell the words are thought out, rather than some of the diluted lyrics in the indie/emo/pop-punk, what have you, scene which all blend together.

What is even better, they put the album up for free on their bandcamp. You can also buy their music, and they have a bunch of cool little incentives to do so: if you spend 50 dollars, singer-guitarist Adam Liner will personally write you a song on any subject the buyer chooses; if you spend 25 dollars, Adam will cover a song that you choose, although he says “Be reasonable.” It’s an interesting method to promote an album, and if I had 25 dollars and am permitted to be vein for a moment, I would totally give these dudes the money so I could get them to cover “Daughter” by Pearl Jam because most people don’t even know how catchy the riff in that song is. Hell, if I had an extra 25 dollars, I would get them to cover it again, only slower, for my dubstep project I don’t, and will never have. Excluding my self-indulgent tangent, this album was great, and it’s free online, and if you have the money you can get handwritten lyrics from the album written by Adam, and a letter which he says “tries to make small talk.” That’s not only a play on the full length name, but it’s adorable. So give these guys a listen.

Below, check out “Today Was My Day to Die and You Ruined it” off Sister City’s LP Small Talk.

To be bold, Tinmouth’s EP sounds like emo/blues, which is unorthodox. Blues, like emo, is sad, melancholy, and the two in theory could be best friends, but it is odd to think about considering the modern emo and blues bands. But it works with Tinmouth. They have the Black Key style, but at times they warp into a sort of Sunny Day Real Estate aesthetic, which, again, is unorthodox, but it works.

Other times the style is fun and upbeat. Overall, the EP One More Revelation is an eclectic display of musical talent and fusion of genres. As mentioned before they will be playing two shows to celebrate the inception of their new EP. The first one, this evening, will be a smaller, intimate show at The Dive Bar on Passyunk Ave.; the Facebook event page can be found here. The second show, Tinmouth’s official record release show, will be on 5/4 at The Balcony bar at The Trocadero.

Below, check out “withered on the vine” off Tinmouth’s new EP One More Revelation.

Photo by Allison Newbold

Last July, Sean Huber – the founder / guy who writes all the songs / public face of Steady Hands – gave us Not Many of Us Left, his debut folk-punk inspired EP. Since that day, Huber has given fans plenty of reasons to enjoy his music and dance like maniacs with his spirited lyrics, intimate and passionate solo acoustic performances, and full band performances replete with an overabundance of sweat and beer. In February of this year, Steady Hands released its newest EP, The Libertines, and while it maintains the same folk-punk musical style, it is a full step away with it’s driving drums, group vocals, and overall full sound. The Libertines is fun, deep, riddled with story telling, and something to put your arm around your friends shoulder and sing in each others faces’.

Some of you may know that Mr Huber is the drummer for Modern Baseball, who is – in not so delicate words – wrecking the Philadelphia music scene, as well as the up and coming indie / pop punk scene. If you still can’t put a name to a face, then go to a Steady Hands show. Sean’s an incredibly nice and warm guy, and puts on a hell of show. You can tell by the end of his performance that he loves the music he makes. Mostly by the sheer volume of sweat pouring off the dude. When I say The Libertines is a full step away from his previous release, it truly is a full step. What I mean to say, the sound has matured heavily. Which is to say, the sound was already matured. The songs on the new EP still have the story telling from the previous EP, but in terms of recording, musicianship, dynamics, everything has improved. Which, again, is to say everything mentioned was already gnarly on Not Many of Us Left. Immediately, the first track exemplifies the growth in Sean’s writing.

Starting with a powerful guitar intro, the EP consistently maintains its grip on your ears. Even the last track, which in terms of the rest of the EP is a bit slower, still delivers the overall full sound. While the first EP sounded heavily influenced by folk-punk bands such as Andrew Jackson Jihad and Defiance, Ohio, The Libertines evokes influence from Bomb the Music Industry! and The Menzingers, mainly because this release has much more electric guitar in it, and the last release was heavy on the acoustics. Both super awesome in their own respect.

Give the first release a listen, and then give Steady Hands’ newest release a listen and see how the sound has grown. The Libertines was released on Lame-O records (run by Eric Osman, who rules more than most things) and is available through the Facebook page, or can also be purchased through Steady Hands’ bandcamp. Below you can check out “Song For Rosemary” off of The Libertines. And on April 16th, you can take in the energy in person when Steady Hands plays The Barbary, opening for What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Information on the all-ages show can be found here.

What I really enjoyed about this band is their use of driving distortion. The “twinkle” style of emo has taken over the genre lately, and although it is a great new angle, it becomes samey after a while. It’s become difficult to separate the bands that are doing something new from the bands who are just following the trend. I don’t have that much room to complain because there are a lot of twinkle bands I love, not to mention I play the style myself, but it’s awesome to see bands like Pocket who don’t twinkle around, and tap into the more classic emo sound.

And although the EP is short, within its four songs are an array of emotionality, as well as super pretty (and distorted) melodies. They have a real Outsmarting Simon thing going for them which is a huge plus, and to any who love the other bands I mentioned, you will most likely be into this EP. Not to mention the songs are well recorded. Which is another plus.

For those who are looking to listen to a band that makes them feel a little nostalgic because it reminds you of what got you into the type of music you’re into now, you should listen to Pocket. For those who are looking for something new to jam to, you should listen to Pocket. Below is the song “Pool Party” off their new self-titled EP Pocket.

Without a doubt, Purling Hiss is the definition of that type of lineup. In an age of Pro Tools perfecting every note on the record, the Mac laptop and complex synth arrangements nearly being a standard part of the rock setup, it’s refreshing to hear stripped-down rock n’ roll again. And guitarist Mike Polizze, drummer Mike Sneeringer and Kiel Everett on bass are unrelenting on Water on Mars, the band’s first release with the full lineup.

That’s due in part to where these songs come from. Polizze is still the Hiss’ primary songwriter and he’s still exploiting his guitar as much he had on his prior releases. And he doesn’t hesitate to burst into a threatening solo on most songs on Water on Mars. However, his unabashed guitar slaying never feels too noodley.

In fact, the opener “Lolita” is not only the perfect blast-off jam for the album, but its minimal lyrics allow the music to speak more. Polizze adds an entire vocabulary of words to the song by way of screaming guitar noise and wah-pedal work. The title track, “Water on Mars,” speaks in tongues from the same planet. There’s about five minutes of Sneeringer and Everett casually wandering together, never deviating from their comfortable pace while Polizze plasters more and more noise on top of their path. The noise is what the ears hear at first, but on every following listen, the casual guitar melody Polizze’s plucking layered underneath comes more to the front.

“Rat Race,” may be the record’s most narrative song is sing-along, party rock gold. When Polizze repeats, “Everybody’s steppin’ on my shoes,” at the end, it seems like it was inspired by someone killing his buzz on a good night out. The existential and stripped down “Dead Again,” paired with “She Calms Me Down,” makes the album’s mid-point feel like the appropriate intermission before slamming back into the action on “Face Down.”

That attention paid to sequencing is what makes Water on Mars feel more like a complete album rather than just a collection of rock songs. Much like the album’s middle section, the placement of “Mary Bumble Bee,” is spot on. They thoughtfully let the listener down easily with a mid-tempo sway, and Polizze even sings, “So long, goodbye” as the last chord rings out.

The pace of the record is what’s most striking. Polizze’s writing is still just as direct as Purling Hiss’ first four releases. They don’t wasting any time to even introduce a song’s main riff, much like on Hissteria and Lounge Lizards and most of the songs end almost a bit suddenly, none just fading out. However, none of the songs from Mars are nearly as lo-fi, ultra-fuzz psych like Polizze’s early work, such as their self-titled record or Public Service Announcement. Which he’d played all the music on.

Water on Mars is a major change for them on many fronts– from band lineup to songwriting and overall album sound, at least compared to prior releases. And while NASA’s Curiosity is still roving around the red planet looking for some answers, Purling Hiss has definitely found all they’ll need to know what’s working for them from here on out.

Water on Mars is the featured album on this week’s edition of Unlocked. Download “Mercury Retrograde,” the album’s highlighted single, in yesterday’s post, and check back tomorrow for its video and an interview with the band later in the week.

Ok, so we didn’t see this coming. First, David Bowie emerged from a near ten year hiatus to offer us a gift (on his birthday) in the form of a brand new song “Where Are We Now.” It was followed with the announcement of a completed full new album, The Next Day on Columbia Records. And now that that new album is finally a reality to our ears, all most can say is … “wow.” The Next Day does more than serve as fulfillment for a long absence, it finds this musical icon in a state of creative bliss and incredible ambition.

Truth be told “Where Are We Now,” while a gorgeous song, doesn’t really speak to the energy that The Next Day offers. The album storms out of the gate with the title-track. It’s thrilling to hear the cutting guitars on tracks like this, the next single “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)” and “Valentine’s Day.” There’s brilliance in the frantic, almost chaotic “If You Can See Me.” And there’s delicious grooves on songs like the funky “Dirty Boys” which sees longtime Bowie collaborator Steve Elson on saxophone. He adds almost a Morphine like vibe to “Dirty Boys” dominating the tune.

And speaking of collaborators, Bowie fans won’t be surprised but should be excited by the presence of producer and musician Tony Visconti who helped craft The Next Day with Bowie. The two pulled off what most would consider ‘the impossible’ these days: record an album and make sure no one finds out. The record is artsy, edgy, ambitious and rocking.

Purchase the album here.

The new album picks up right where their impressive debut, American Radiance, left off. Tin Horses’ sound is a mixture of twangy Americana and long, gritty guitar freakouts reminiscent of Neil Young’s work with Crazy Horse, if they were into late 80s’ indie rock like Dinosaur Jr.

What sets A Life Of Trouble apart from their debut is the harder rock edge found on some of the songs, such as “Sad Dust Glories.” The track starts off with some feedback and some some guitar interplay before going into the songs main riff over a rumbling drum beat from Rockwell. For the last minute of the song Everett proves there’s more than just one guitar hero in Purling Hiss, cutting loose on one of the albums many blistering solos.

The juxtaposition of more straight forward bluesy roots rock songwriting alongside longer, more jam-oriented tracks filled with impressive guitar work makes A Life of Trouble an interesting listen. Check it ou in the player below.

Photo by Jennifer Tzar

Isles is brimming with warm, mystical grooves and dreamy dance songs laced in pop tradition. Natalie and Elliot perform many of the instruments themselves including a wide range of keyboards including piano, Hammond, Fender Rhodes, Memory Moog, Minimoog and Casio. Elliot plays saxophone and percussion including congas and kalimba. Natalie’s lead vocals are beguiling and sensual, and the songs are complemented with bass, guitar and drums, handled by Erik Hall, who plays with Elliot in the jazz/funk/afrobeat influenced Chicago band Nomo.

Songs like “Keep You,” “Twisted,” and “It’s Too Late,” are catchy and irresistibly playful and on “June,” Wild Belle grab a page out of the playbook of the early rock steady sounds of Jamaica with refreshing results. In fact, Isles feels like a deep dive in to the classic Trojan Records catalog with great respect for the past while crafting something thoroughly modern sounding. For Wild Belle, the groove is definitely in the heart.

Isles is out Tuesday, March 12th. Buy the album here.

The three brothers who make up the band (Tom, Dan and Pat Murphy) are schooled not only in playing, but also vibe – those humming Hammond organs! that spooky Theremin! On their latest record, Circe – self released today and being celebrated this Saturday at Underground Arts – they harness that vibe to trace a themeatic arc. On the band’s 2011 debut Devil’s Grip, the Murphy brothers seemed like they circled around the border of the dark side. On Circe, they dive into the abyss.

“Every River Goes To Hell” strikes out on a rumbling chord arpeggio, tracing the journey through amp stacks, pounding drums and broken promises: “That ship is going down.” Death plays strongly into “Life of Mud,” the snappy, piano-led single we showcased yesterday. The mud in question is the earth that the deceased narrator is telling his tale from: “I know I won’t have a single regret, only these memories I ought to forget.”

The snarling, sneaky acoustic ballad “Tango With Lucy” is about a meeting with a seductive woman in New Orleans – who might just be the devil a total blues motif if there was one. “I wonder if she is who she says she is, but in this case, ignorance is bliss.” But there’s not a sight of redemption, or hope, just an acknowledgement of the often flawed side of human nature.

All these contradictions and complications are summed up in “Underground,” which might just be songwriter Dan Murphy’s manifesto. In the nearly seven-minute song, he knocks down icons of 20th century literature and philosophy: Joyce, Kafka, Bukowski. “God only knows what god only knows, you try to justify it with your lyrics and prose. / You tell your self things to help yourself sleep ’cause you just can’t imagine taking that leap.”

After traveling this train of thought, writing off religion, technology, science, dabblings with drugs and love and lust as a “highly praised way of twiddling your thumbs.” What’s the conclusion? No matter how much we know, or think we know, we don’t really know that much – we’re just idling away our time until it’s no longer there. HEAVY.

Or a dark reality check that’s made somewhat more palatable by heavy, rocking arrangements and even snappy moments. Which is the most exciting thing about Circe, and about Penrose. They play blues and rock in a loud and accessible way, but they don’t compromise when it comes to the themes. These guys are dark, unflinching, unafraid, and taking all those into consideration, more honest and clearheaded than most of their indie-blues peers.

Circe is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Life of Mud” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

Yes, the emcee born Kinte McDaniel took his stage name from the Cuban leader widely regarded as a despot in the United States. By calling his sophomore album Fidel, he pushes that parallel more to the front – something that, depending on what political era the listener grew up during, what part of the country they were raised in, and so forth, might be read as a massively controversial statement.

But there’s another thing that the record’s title does – it humanizes its polarizing namesake by using his first name, the familiar form of address. When I interviewed the emcee, he discussed this very conscious decision – he’s a human being, as we all are human beings, and the new album is a reflection of the journey of humanity from pre-post-racial America to the world today. It’s a world where problems persist, but are addressed in a lively manner through Curly Castro’s funky / jazzy / cinematic hip-hop tapestries.

The moniker is the subject of the opening song, “Call Me Castro” – it’s about him reading up on revolutionary figures and shaping his own character accordingly. “When I finally knew the deal than I turned Bobby Seale,” he raps, a nod to the co-founder of the Black Panther party. “I settled some scores and now I’m ten points up.”

The Wall of Sound-sampling “Starch” is the first of many figurative songs on the record. It’s a three verse story (with a great guest spot from Philly’s Has-Lo, part of Castro’s Wrecking Crew collective) that involves a shakedown at the 24-hour laundromat at Sixth and Girard. Through the comical story, Castro weaves a tale about gentrification.

Equally poignant, but more direct, is “Winter ’87.” The song’s “’twas the night before Christmas” verse gives it a nursery rhyme undertone, but as Castro reminds us, it’s a “true story – and I’m not just sayin’ that.” Over samples of Vince Guaraldi from A Charlie Brown Christmas, Castro tells about one holiday growing up in the Bedford-Stuy section of Brooklyn where his mother and siblings were robbed in an elevator on the way home from a family holiday gathering. The choice of the music takes something that much of America has a very specific, sentimental association with, and spins it to say that, well, for some other folks, this is what Christmas is like.

“Coal,” a song out of a David Lynch soundtrack which we heard in yesterday’s featured download, also works in the world of parable – which is the distinct difference between this album and Castro’s 2011 debut, Winston’s Appeal. That time out, he was overtly relating his own story in a straightforward narrative – this time, the songs reflect back on his life, but through metaphor and allegory. The most entertaining example of this is “Colored Water Fountain,” where Castro sings a jingle for a restaurant in a Louis Armstrong voice, but uses the restaurant as a way to enact a twisted revenge on notable bigots of modern society.

Elsewhere, an extrapolation of Johnny Cash’s “Cocaine Blues,” could be interpreted as a simple chauvenistic party cut, but it works in a few other ways as well. There’s the empathetic, unflinching account of a hardened criminal – something not unlike Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood or Norman Mailer’s The Executioner’s Song. There’s also the parallel it draws between rebel country music of the 50s and rebel hip-hop a half century later – topically, they’re not all that different.

With Fidel, Curly Castro’s ambition continues to grow as his songs become more lyrically sophisticated and musically pointed, but also energetic and engrossing. It’s not without its challenges – Castro’s voice is always so much in the forefront, that it’s all but impossible to allow his heavy topical matter recede into the background, and just listen because you want to bump a high-energy track. Castro wants to capture that energy and transform it, putting it towards examining the rights and wrongs and inbetweens of society. And with Fidel, he succeeds in a massive way.

Fidel is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Coal” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

The dark, dreamy vibes are well-suited for the subject matter as well—Yeah Right teems with images of stars, and space, and drifting along, and songs like “Drift Away” come to life with wiggly guitar and hazy, far-away vocals that feel like they’re wafting towards you in the vacuum of outer space. Opener “Go Ahead” grows from straight-forward rocker to dense, fuzzed-out rager, vocals emerging from the fog to conclude—like a ray of consciousness invading sleep— “it’s all a dream that won’t go away.” And “Cover the Sky” (previously released as a 7” two years back) is thicker and fuller this time around, as if muddled by the very clouds it describes.

“Waking Dream” (featured as a song stream yesterday) is a record high point, with radiant harmonies that bloom and expand, and a breathless chorus that drips with yearning. Its bleary psychedelics hearken back to Prism Eyes, while the skulking bass line and dynamic range showcase a newly formed powerhouse, not afraid to rage. In general, Yeah Right sounds best when it matches its dream pop aesthetic with real momentum and passion—like on early single “Pink Ruff,” which combines Everton’s wailing with a wall of guitars. Closer “Get Lost” punctuates rock guitar with shrill vocals, and “Inside My Head” likewise pairs snarky lyrics with a metronomic beat. These moments of epic build-up and release arise organically, and—the band tells me—are partially inspired by the struggle of city living, and because “nothing in Philly is ever handed to you.” (For more on their thoughts on Philly, stay tuned for our in-depth interview on Thursday.)

The non-ragers, conversely, simmer with intensity—the dark, droning “Shades of Eternal Night”; the muddled, drafty “You’re Not Alone.” While still solid nodders, these tunes, to me, feel less unique, more standard shoegaze fare (though let us not forget the Yeah Right “influences” pie chart was 75% My Bloody Valentine). Still, their quiet intensity makes cathartic moments that much more transcendent, and adds a welcome layer of grunge to a band previously (mis)labelled as “cutesy.” Overall, Yeah Right is an impressive next step from a band that refuses to limit itself—and will undoubtedly continue to grow and evolve in the future.

Yeah Right is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Waking Dream” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

Pissed Jeans drummer Sean McGuinness | Photo by Rachel Del Sordo

Pissed Jeans doesn’t mess around with lots of small releases. Sure, so they put out Sam Kinison Woman/The L Word three years ago. They also had two other EPs before their first full-length, Shallow. But point being, everything they release gets a physical pressing. This band doesn’t pussyfoot around with Bandcamp pages and songs that are exclusively available online.

And sure, the Jeans haven’t released a new full-length record in four years. So what? The forthcoming Honeys is drenched in enough scuzzy distortion and stark, white-knuckled aggression that it almost feels as if it’s been pent up inside the foursome for way longer. Contrary to how it seems, they never took a break from writing. They’ve just been at this one for longer than you know.

“We’re obviously good at taking our sweet time,” Sean McGuinness, Pissed Jeans’ drummer, says over a beer on an incredibly frigid January afternoon. “It’s not necessarily with quality in mind, but there’s a certain vulnerability that comes with making music and showing that inner-creative side that you can tend to hold back or be bashful about.”

McGuinness goes on to say that they had began writing songs for Honeys shortly after 2009’s King of Jeans, but the music didn’t leave their practice space in McGuinness’ home for quite a while.

“We trust our instincts,” he says. “And we have a pedigree that we strive for. But that sounds too high-brow. We had an idea going into the new material that we wanted to be, not necessarily more upbeat, but a little more snappy and straightforward.”

Despite wanting to take some of the mud out of their sludgy post-hardcore, the record (released nationally tomorrow on Sub Pop) still has what McGuinness calls “classic Jeans.” And he’s right. There’s a certain swagger to Honeys that goes beyond punk rock attitude. With those fresh-yet-classic vibes, it stands up to the time they spent, drowns King of Jeans in urgency and proves that time doesn’t mean a thing to these teenage adults.

The opener, “Bathroom Laughter,” was flushed into the blogosphere months ago – so you already know no one’s actually laughing on this one. In fact, there’s mention of crying in the kitchen. Believe it or not, crying is brought up again on a trip into a pit of patheticness on “Chain Worker.”

“I cry red, angry tears that no one sees / sometimes mistaken for blood.”

Now this feels like “classic Jeans;” it’s dark and noisy, indistinct and makes you “fill in the blanks yourself” as McGuinness says. Or there’s “Romanticize Me,” where singer, grunter and guttural screamer Matter Korvette articulates:

“If you’re trying to feel better / There’s one thing you can do / Take all of your dreams / And pretend that it came true.”

It seems like someone’s wishing he’d tell them he loves them. But he’s vain. Or so he screams repeatedly at the end of the following, surprisingly melodic, “Vain in Costume.” Even if Korvette is as vain as he claims, he can back up his knowledge for all things in vogue on the blog posts he contributes to Spin, in which he discusses high fashion.

“He’s been into fashion ever since I met him,” McGuinness says. “It’s just his thing. And you know, when hardcore or loud rock bands [are mentioned] I don’t think you draw a parallel between that music and high-end fashion. Maybe that sets us apart.”

Sure – maybe the slimy “Loubs,” about taking a peak at some lady’s shoes, marching to the step of Christian Louboutin stillettos, does set them apart from most other punk bands. But then again, the Jeans are known for being knee-deep in topics of everyday life. That’s why when Korvette wishes he had his tap shoes on (so to speak) upon receiving news of the death of a co-worker in “Cafeteria Food.” There’s a resounding “Hell yeah” in all of us, remembering that one work partner you couldn’t stand.

Reportedly, producer Alex Newport often gave Korvette a similar response upon hearing his lyrics as he wrote them in Milkboy Studio.

“Newport just sits back and laughs at how sinister Matt’s lyrics can be,” McGuinness says. “But it just gives him more confidence to keep doing what he does. He’s in the most vulnerable position, putting his thoughts and ideas out there. But Matt isn’t a guy that lets pressure bother him.

Alex Newport first worked with them on King of Jeans, and McGuinness says that record was the one that brought them the farthest outside of their comfort zone.

“At the time we were afraid he was going to change our songs,” he says. “But Newport’s more about giving ideas about tempos, enthusiasm and knowing the right takes to use.”

Pissed Jeans took about a year and a half to write Honeys. That’s because they made sure each song was ready before heading into the studio (aside from two they wanted a second opinion from Newport on; McGuinness wouldn’t share which ones). Also, the band had big things happen in their personal lives since the last record. For McGuinness, the biggest was his son’s birth.

“We were lucky to have the whole recording experience work out like it did,” he says, “between four dads, a dude in New York and two guys with a studio it could be tough to plan. We were lucky.”

And they definitely are grown up, satisfied adults now. But on Honeys’ closer, “Adult Angst,” Korvette reminds everyone, “There’s no reason to ever grow up.” Fatherhood and each of the members being a tricenarian hasn’t slowed down their kiddish attitudes toward each making music together.

“I think Randy’s unplugged Matt’s mic in the middle of songs before and Matt’s played guitar,” McGuinness says about bassist Randy Huth messing with the Jeans’ singer and Korvette stealing guitarist Bradley Fry’s instrument mid-set. “And I’ve sung my fair share of Pissed Jeans songs. But I’ve been punked harder than anyone else in the band. It’s a constant struggle, not even out-punk each other, but to maintain that edge.”

That sort of “let’s just have fun at this” outlook is what’s keeping Pissed Jeans sounding fresh to the top rung of the clothesline. Their name is more and more regularly becoming part of regional vocabulary, too. And it will likely extend beyond this locale soon when Honeys hits.

“I don’t think the tourism board is going to put up a billboard in Philly that says, ‘Hey, Pissed Jeans lives here.’ But if they did that’d be cool.”

Pissed Jeans performs at Underground Arts on Friday, February 15 with Lantern and Leather; tickets and information for the 21+ show can be found here. Their new LP Honeys is in stores tomorrow via Sub Pop Records

Now, I can’t claim to know what exactly Hugh Moretta and his bandmates in The National Rifle are upset about. They don’t provide us with many specific lyrical clues, either. There a lot of vagueness about not wanting, and not having. But on the new Almost Endless – the band’s full-length debut, and it’s most refined effort to date – the frustration is palpable, as is the joy.

Having garnered a reputation as a hard-touring party band on the night club / house show circuit, TNR’s sound was formerly scraggly and boisterous. But with a few notable exceptions – “Jazz History of the World” from the Vanity Press EP, and it’s self-depricating opening stroke “I’m the same age my mother was when she had me, but I’m not grown up” -  it didn’t particularly tug at any emotions, short of “let’s have fun.” This album takes that honest, reflective side of the band and chases it full speed ahead.

Glimmering opener “Coke Beat” is restless and confused – “Don’t look around,” Moretta repeats in harmony with keyboardist Lynna Stancato. “Can’t understand. I’ll wait around. Nowhere to go.” There’s a feeling of being stuck in place, cornered, defenseless. Later on, propulsive synth-rocker “So Real” is in the same spot: “We’re never done. Can’t outrun. Be there always.”

The words across the album read more like stream-of-conscious phrases and random thoughts rather than beautifully flowing lyrics. They’re not specific, as I said – could be about anything, really, which makes them a fine blank canvas for listeners to project their own disappointments onto. But this exhausted brevity also hammers home the point of frustration and stagnation – the things the band’s sound looks to overcome.

“Glass Line” drops tones of 90s dreampoppers My Favorite and Saint Etienne as Stancato sings “You want, you want, you want it all.” Wanting comes up again in the title track – its unconventional structure betrays Moretta’s musical schooling, but its bright chords and falsetto refrain are exhilarating as he sets the stage: “You know what you want.”

Mixing barbs about abandonment and dejection with exuberant rock and roll is the crux of the album – see “Street Burn,” which we’re offering as a free download all week. But in the end, after transforming these worldly frustrations into uplifting music, the message at the end of the album is self-confidence and self-reliance. “All the ways you were wrong,” Moretta and Stancato repeat as “Night High” trails into the night. “All the ways that we’re not.”

Almost Endless is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Street Burn” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

Easy answer: Dylan’s “Desolation Row.” And that song has so many words upon words, verses upon verses – the fact that Dylan could keep it from collapsing under its own complexity is, to this day some 38 years down the road, remarkable.

But what of the musician who wants to stretch out, but doesn’t want to do it with pure verbage? Joe D’Amico of West Chester folk ensemble Mason Porter  found himself this quandary. He loves playing mandolin-led bluegrass music, and continues to do so, but as a songwriter had more expansive goals.

D’Amico’s eleven-minute song is called “Imagine My Surprise – Mother, Mother – Good Morning Child.” It appears on his latest LP, A Short Time’s A Long Time, which The Key is featuring this week in its Unlocked series. And it’s not folk in the slightest. The song is dramatic and swelling, with layers of piano and guitar that build on top of galloping drums, burst with bright vocal harmonies and then break off into lengthy instrumental passages. This centerpiece of his record is actually a merging of three distinct song-ideas – think of it as his “Golden Slumbers / Carry The Weight / The End” – but done with a prog-rock flair.

This moment is just one of the surprises D’Amico has in store on his third solo outing. As we noted yesterday, he’s used his solo albums over the past few years as a place to explore new sounds, from the ethereal Americana of 2011′s Asleep in my Shoes to the poppy variety show he has in store this time.

“Up Up And Away” kicks the set off with glockenspiel chimes, a rich vocal and airy harmonies – it’s very reminiscent of his scene contemporaries The Great Unknown – but as the set moves onward, plunking guitar lines and other layers enter. At the halfway point, the song slams into a punchy, rhythmic electric guitar overdrive. For certain, we’ve never heard D’Amico rock this hard, and it’s almost a shame he lets it drop away so soon.

“Where Does The Time Go” brings us into the Beatles-esque pop that makes up the album’s first half – its guitar lead a nod to “Getting Better.” Down the way a bit, “I Need Time” hints at the pure volume of the opening cut but settles into a boogie swing, something drawn a bit from The Band. “Face of the Stranger” brings the energy down a touch, but builds on evocative synthesizer textures on the verse and adds some twang on the chorus.

After the middle trifecta, the album changes tone: “When Easy Was Easy” is a rockabilly song slowed down to a introspective crawl, D’Amico’s instrumental phrasing both yearning and nervy. He sings about the changes and complexities that come with time: “It’s not gonna be the way it was before.” And that’s a moment of truth right there – nothing can stay pure and sacred and thrilling forever, and perhaps that’s the point of his increasingly more adventurous musical excursions.

If A Short Time’s A Long Time has a shortcoming, it’s that D’Amico could chase this path even further if he wanted to, but instead he keeps it grounded. The production is clear and crystalline, as we’ve come to expect from his solo work and Mason Porter’s, and his singing is reliably warm and melodic. These are both undeniably positive traits, but they leaves us wondering what Joe D’Amico unrestrained might mean.

While we ponder that, however, we’ve got an album to dig into that presents D’Amico as an artist with a broad vision, but also one who can also craft music with broad appeal.

A Short Time’s A Long Time is the featured album in this week’s edition of Unlocked; download the spotlighted single “Where Does The Time Go” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

Recorded partly in Philadelphia and partly in Brooklyn, Birdie Busch and The Greatest Night greets us the first week in January. One can only guess after spending some time opening shows for fellow Philly indie-rockers Dr. Dog, the excitement of playing with a band rubbed off on Birdie. In fact, she enlisted Nathan Sabatino to record the new album. Nathan was the engineer for Dr. Dog’s Be The Void release last year. Most of Birdie’s new album was recorded live with the band and the result is batch of songs that breathe in a lot of open space, creating a dramatic musical canvas for her to craft her stories upon. It’s easy to get as consumed in the sonic space of songs like “Far from the Tree” and “Part of Apart” as it is Birdie’s clever songwriting. There are sweet, charming moments like “This Must Be” and quirky, vibrant songs like “Body Body” that keep making hit the repeat button.

Birdie Busch and The Greatest Night shows great maturity for the Philly songstress. The album was funded in part by her fans through a PledgeMusic campaign. It’s fair to say that those folks helped fuel perhaps Birdie’s most engaging album to date and one that should open the door to whole new world of fandom.

Birdie Busch and the Greatest Night is the featured album in this week’s edition of Unlocked; download the spotlighted single “Be the Arrow” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

“Hell’s a place where I feel fine
 as long as your not mine” — Pill Friends “Bummertime”

Punk…death…and friendship. The lo-fi/indie trio Pill Friends’ recent  2012 release, It’s Kyle’s Birthday Everyday, is a chaotic yet heartfelt reunion with emotions usually reserved for an intervention. With just three members (as well as a bass player who is supposedly “missing”), Pill Friends creates a full orchestra from only a guitar, drums and cello. The beauty in this album comes from all the unoccupied space between the notes that is filled in a unique and personal way be each listener. The group has an affinity for using their limitations to their advantage, allowing the vocals on each track to crawl from beneath the noise – on it’s hands and knees – like being one shot shy of an overdose. Pill Friends, sonically, have settled somewhere in the realm of folk music, infused with a heavy dose of morphine, and then played through headphone speakers while mowing the lawn. It’s Kyle’s Birthday Everyday is sparse, its eclectic and extremely discomforting– and that’s what makes it satisfying to listening to. You can download It’s Kyle’s Birthday Everyday, Pill Friend’s first official EP, on Bandcamp. Last week the band released an even newer track called “Please Murder Me For My Sins” – download it below.

We’ve heard it before, sure, on the Trimmings of Hides EP and the Sibir’ single. But here, there’s something different – a sound that’s bigger, bolder, dressed up in spacey high fidelity, showing Mulvihill’s songs to be more than the scrappy folk musings of a guy teaching English in the cold city of Tomsk during the wintertime. On Wolf Like A Stray Dog, released this week, Norwegian Arms establishes itself as a band with a broad artistic vision. The album’s lush production scope calls to mind 60s American psych-folk, as well as thumping, rhythm-driven world music that was popularized in the 1980s (the pre-Graceland stuff). Meanwhile, Mulvihill’s lyrics – though tied intrinsically to a specific time and place – feel universal.

In that jangley mandolin-led track “And then I Found Myself in the Taiga” – a nod to the geographical region, also known as “Northwoods,” situated above 60 degrees N latitude (thanks, Wikipedia) – the scene opens on Mulvihill in October, having just arrived in his new home. He parses his sense of displacement with thoughts like “If you whisper, the air whispers back in anecdotes” and “Remember, the frost on the door is yours.” But if you didn’t read in however dozen many interviews and album reviews that these songs were based in Russia, you might think those lyrics have roots in Fargo, North Dakota. Or Alaska. Or anywhere with a brutal winter north of 60 degrees latitude.

“Tired of Being Cold” is another very literal reaction to this, and probably the only song where it’s difficult to say it could be about anywhere else. To a jaunty beat care of drummer / multi-instrumentalist Eric Slick, Mulvihill sings “I had never thought before how weather could easily so change my outward view of life and make me yearn for home.” (That looks like a mouthful when we write it out, but trust me – he makes it work when he’s actually delivering it.)

On the other hand, “She Lives In A Secret Town” – the very Soweto track we spotlighted yesterday – makes mention of riding the same bus and seeing the same faces day in, day out. Sounds not unlike my commute riding the 18 to Broad and Olney. “My Toy Piano” has a bumping rhythm and a subtle synthesizer guiding along Mulvihill’s bright falsetto – there’s no toy piano, alas – and though the song is about an instrument he got abroad, the songwriter could also be singing about that moment of finding comfort in any strange place. It could be a new house in a different part of town. It could be a first semester at a college far away from home.

This, in essence, is the strength of Wolf Like A Stray Dog. With skilled engineering at Dr. Dog’s Meth Beach studio by Michael Chadwick and smart arrangements by Slick and mixer Jose Diaz, the album sounds very lush and dreamlike – a perfect audio compliment to its sweep through Mulvihill’s memories. But while Mulvihill hears in this dream one thing, he carves out room for the rest of us to hear whatever we so choose. It’s a personal travelogue as much as it’s a blank canvas, an open notebook for us to trace parallels to our own life experience.

Wolf Like a Stray Dog is the featured album in this week’s edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “She Lives in a Secret Town” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

“They love black but don’t wanna be black.”

The words come straight from the sage’s mouth, ASAAD is what Philadelphia underground hip-hop is all about. It’s hard to label the MC as underground, because it’s only a matter of time before he blows up – and his new album, #Troy, illustrates that the artist is definitely growing up. His profound mantra perpetuating the idea of “New Black” seeps through every syllable and although his imagery is metaphorical the meaning is very literal. He is offering up the mentality of re-writing black history with beats and rhymes, but presenting it like an anecdote of modern life from a tortured mind. Articulate, intricate and a little insane, ASAAD weaves cultural references to Wu-Tang, Balthazar and the book Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes. In early 2012 ASAAD released a documentary called New Black History that shows the Philadelphia native sharing his philosophies.The footage shows interviews of him representing Philly and is inter cut with him dropping knowledge on New York City. You’ll be intrigued by the mystery but can find all the answers in his raps; advocating the greater good and claiming that he’s bringing hip-hop back….and he is.

This documentary can be found here. His latest effort, #Troy, can be streamed on his bandcamp located here. Below is the video for his 2012 single “Jumanji Flow.”

For context, if you’re just being introduced to the band right now – these guys used to be a lot more raw. Bred just outside the city in Upper Darby, co-songwriters Matt Vantine (guitar, vocals) and Matt Amadio (drums, vocals) released a full-length and an EP of raw, skuzzy rock and roll with bassist Rusty Langley – total amped-up, power-trio stuff.

On their second full-length, produced by Tommy Joyner at MilkBoy Studio, the band’s sound opens up. It’s immediately noticeable in “Operator,” the track we spotlighted yesterday. The shuffling pop number is lead by ELO-style octave harmonies from the two Matts, and an airy violin lead arranged by Philly music legend Larry Gold. It’s a longing, sad song born of romantic confusion; Vantine’s husky Britt Daniel-esque delivery on it is one of many reasons The Fleeting Ends remind me of Spoon. Another is the way the band doesn’t accept the limitations of its size – this track, in addition to Gold’s superb orchestrations, is richly sound-designed with keyboards, splashy drums, and background noises winding up and slowing down.

As much as that sounds like a cinematic affair – and “Operator” is certainly a number that would fit right at home in any number of filmic / television scenarios – elsewhere on the album, the band does subtler things that still make it sound huge. On the driving “Poor Gloria,” a rhythm chord enters on the left speaker, Vantine’s lead guitar responds in the right speaker and Amadio’s bounding drums set the song in motion. It’s a brutish rocker about a character on the lam (in contrast to the poppy single), but it’s lively in quite the same way.

Somewhere in between is the chug-a-lug “Elaine (Until Now)”, another song with Gold’s string arrangements and nuanced synthesizer bits, but much more of an aggressive, barroom brawler tone. Think of it as Little Feat and The Band, by way of XTC and Blur.

Which, okay, let’s pause here to acknowledge that there’s no way of talking about The Fleeting Ends without talking about the myriad musical acts from the past 50 years that they call to mind. That’s another reason they make me think of Spoon (see! I just did it again), because they are so open and embracing of all the music that came before them that you can’t help but compare.

So the jangley, breezy, smooth tones of “I’m Like That” come across like the cool delivery of John Lennon informed by the vibes of Hall and Oats, soulful and heartbroken. “Floored” is a solitary Stones-y twanger about coping (“I didn’t want to know / but she had other plans, leaving with some other men / I just get so floored”). The album does a lot, musically, but comes together in a cohesive whole – which is why I think The Fleeting Ends avoid the dreaded “d-word.”

Critics like to call musicians “derivative” when their own work is easily aligned with the artists who influenced it. I’m as guilty of any other writer of doing this – and I do hope that nothing I wrote in the past stoked the fire of this album’s “Critics” – but let’s be real here. It’s virtually impossible to sound completely detached from the past when you’re up against a half-century of pop / rock songwriting. These guys embrace it, but do so without outright copycatting, and there’s the rub. With Our Eyes are Peeled, The Fleeting Ends recast that back-catalogue, projecting all the records they were reared on through their still-developing voice – and doing so, announce themselves in a big way.

Our Eyes are Peeled is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Operator” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

This new LP implements elements of shoegaze and prog-rock, with melodies that sit like a heavy load atop screaming guitar riffs and thick, roaring bass. Helpless, like being trapped in the bottom of a well, yet infinite and soaring, as if rocketing into the outer reaches of space; the entire album creates a thick, interstellar fog that is ever expanding and drifting aimlessly through the sonic abyss. Thinking Machine claims that Extension Chords will be “one of your favorite records of the year,” and they’re probably right. Check it out here, and watch the video for the song “Gozu”  below.

Opening track “Neighborhood Watch,” which we spotlighted yesterday, begins with forest sounds and a serene build, Hawk singing about watching somebody (a family member? A friend? A lover?) while they sleep. As the music builds and becomes lusher, Hawk sings of frustration – “wear me down till there’s nothing left at all.” Suddenly, it’s a jackknife turn into a dark synthesizer overdrive that’s very reminiscent of The Knife – and somewhat reminiscent of Gerard McMahon’s theme to The Lost Boys as well.

This is a common theme across the album: start small, build big, and show a range of feeling along the way. “Thru the Field” takes the ever-effective route of flipping the mood by juxtaposing uptempo rhythms and sounds with nervy words. The keyboard pattern sounds bright and cascading, its tones very vintage. These could be synths made in the late 70s, used on Bowie and Eno records, mixed with a hard-hitting four-on-the-floor beat and schoolyard cheers. It’s lively, but Hawk is lyrically self-conscious and insecure, singing “I swear I heard somebody laughing at all of my mistakes” directly before he launches into a flawless guitar solo. It’s almost as if he wanted to prove his naysayers wrong – and he positively shreds in the process, something we don’t often get to hear from him.

The eight-minute New Order disco of “Safety” lurks in a quiet opening, then snaps to attention, traveling a very upbeat and buoyant road before flipping the mood for a minor key coda. The more direct “Let Me Be” is a focused four minutes and change, with a moving dulcimer-sounding synthesizer patch breaking through at the halfway mark, totally evoking “Ringfinger” from Nine Inch Nails’ Pretty Hate Machine.

This is the crux of Grace / Confusion, and something that is a strong forward-progression from Hawk’s previous releases. 2009’s Seek Magic was a great opening statement that heralded his venture into expressionistic electronic rock (he previously fronted the Philly indie-dance band Hail Social, which was a different ballpark altogether), but its songs were so dense and expansive that at times it felt there was nothing to latch on to. Last year’s Player Piano provided those hooks, but its heavy reliance on theme and variation felt almost like repetition.

This album doesn’t just split the difference between those worlds, it pushes things forward, showing Memory Tapes as a moving, feeling, ever shifting force that can be direct, epic, but most importantly, it can be human.

Grace / Confusion is the featured album in this edition of Unlocked; hear the spotlighted single “Neighborhood Watch” in yesterday’s post, and check back later in the week for interviews, video and more.

• The Eyesby Matt Duke, from Love on a Major ScaleDownload

Kingston-born pop-punk/hardcore band Title Fight is the most current and quintessential example of PA’s proven ability to hit hard. The September release of their sophomore album, Floral Green, brought the band Billboard top 100 stature and recognition outside of Alternative Press and Warped Tour-going underground music lovers.

The album is a display of melodic maturity from the band’s debut Shed, which was invigorating but sped by, with more than half of its tracks coming in around or under the 2-minute mark.

Where Shed showed the small bud of this band’s musicality and vocal abilities, Floral Green shows how Title Fight has bloomed – opening up to expose something beautifully gritty and raw, raucous and angry, exciting and unexpected. Tapping into new textures, layers and intricacies while keeping the power of vocalist Jamie Rhoden’s words and wails gave the band new room to grow.

Slow-building spectacles like the single “Head In The Ceiling Fan” should be a treat to see live, and the sold-out status of Friday’s headlining show at Union Transfer shows that local Title Fight fans haven’t overlooked this fact.

Fellow Scranton-based indie punk rock band Tigers Jaw will lend support, along with Pianos Become The Teeth and Single Mothers.

In the song “Sympathy,” another track off of Floral Green, Rhoden growls about his desires of “just wanting to be something.” Congratulations to Title Fight on achieving that goal and making Pennsylvania proud.

Title Fight pla