Proud Wisconsinite Justin Vernon is the rare star to truly stick to his roots -- by identifying every song as a place, it's as though he's reminding himself to stay grounded. Bon Iver is all ambiance: not as stark as 2008's For Emma, Forever Ago, but just as riveting. And though Vernon employs similar instrumentation, it's with greater aplomb: the pitter-patter of a snare; the weaving of horns, synths and guitar; and that inimitable falsetto manipulated into its own class of emotion. The lyrics melt together, but they reveal a still very modest man: "And at once I knew I was not magnificent."
Though Vetiver's dream-folk aesthetic hasn't undergone any radical transformations through the years, The Errant Charm feels noticeably different from prior albums. It's still a singer-songwriter affair, with main man Andy Cabic cooing and whispering his inner thoughts, secrets and desires. But on tracks such as "Can't You Tell" and "Fog Emotion," Vetiver's usual acoustic flavors have been replaced with smooth ambient tapestries woven from synthesizers and drum machines. Then there's stuff like "Ride Ride Ride" and "Wonder Why," both of which recall The Sneetches' jangly brand of power-pop.
Chillwave purveyor Dayve Hawk's sophomore disc is just as cozy as his first, with hypnotic swirls of synths rolling around in bleeps and beats melted by the summer sun. Yet Player Piano is a bit denser than its predecessor, Seek Magic, as it travels through breezy psychedelic pop ("Wait in the Dark," "Trance Sisters"), rock-out guitar solos ("Today Is Our Life") and eerie drones and glistening synths that echo M83 with a Joy Division scowl ("Humming," "Fell Thru Ice II"). Hawk, meanwhile, sounds like he's narrating it all from an endless dream.
Washed Out's full-length debut opens with a wash of synths that ebb and flow like an ocean dependent on electricity. This leisurely rhythm is the basis for main man Ernest Greene's chillwave aesthetic, which draws from '80s ambient music with its layers of soft beats and drones that echo nature at peace. Greene's stoic murmurs merely act as a parallel force, floating along like a fish swimming with the current. "Amor Fati" is the liveliest track of the bunch, and possibly the best, but the whole mix, produced by Ben Allen (Animal Collective, Deerhunter), is as smooth and steady as the sea.
After a few years of EPs and remixes for the likes of M.I.A. and Basement Jaxx, London's SBTRKT finally drops his debut LP, and it's enough to blow a sideways hole in bass music. Drawing from dubstep, garage and U.K. funky, his beats snap with club-tested precision, but it's the fullness, the songfulness, of his productions that really carries you away. Rotating singers Jessie Ware, Little Dragon's Yukimi Nagano and the velvety Sampha inhabit the music with ease, practically luxuriating in the SBTRKT's glistening architectures; they also temper the harder edges with a weary grace.
No orchestra here: just one dude, New Zealand-bred Ruban Nielson, rocking retro in the Ariel Pink vein. After posting "FFunny FFriends" online, he quickly inked a deal with Fat Possum and released this 2011 debut. A swirling mix of psychedelic pop, Unknown Mortal Orchestra flows as effortlessly as blobs in a lava lamp. Nielson's voice almost comes off like a stoned Paul McCartney; his lo-fi guitar strikes carry hints of other Brit invaders like The Kinks and The Zombies, while Syd Barrett's distorted pop sense lingers. He even gets a little funky on "How Can You Luv Me."
Depeche Mode spin 30 years of remixes into an infinite universe of forking paths in this collection of rare, out-of-print and unreleased versions. Club jocks like Bushwacka and Eric Prydz deliver tough progressive reworks, while bands like M83 and Peter Bjorn and John ply more indie-friendly wares; Claro Intelecto, Monolake and Efdemin all pursue more minimalist approaches. And vintage mixes like "Fly on the Windscreen (Death Mix)" revive the glory days of '80s import EPs, with their treasure trove of B-sides.
Aussie collective The Middle East traverse a gothic underworld of folk-tinged post-rock. An acoustic guitar is dolefully plucked, a piano wearily played, as a male voice ekes out cryptic lyrics like they're his last. And that's only the beginning. A few tracks, like "Jesus Came to My Birthday Party," flirt with buoyancy, but the mood mostly lurks in the doldrums with the aid of lush guitar, strings, piano and the occasional lonely sax ("Mount Morgan"). It all gets pretty heavy, especially when you get to the 10-minute "Deep Water," but overall, it's an ambitious and promising debut.
They may specialize in hazy, new wave-drenched dream pop, but Brooklyn band Small Black still provide a healthy dose of adrenaline in a live setting. This exclusive 2011 set was recorded live at the annual Rhapsody Rocks Austin party, and features tracks from 2009's Small Black EP and the band's debut LP, 2010's New Chain. It's a woozy mix of keyboard loops, echoing vocals and fizzy beats -- the perfect soundtrack for BBQs and suntans.
More than a decade after forming The Fiery Furnaces with her bro, Eleanor Friedberger offers her solo debut, an excuse for the quirky siren to get both introspective and nostalgic. On Last Summer, she captures intimate slices of life rather than fleshing out full-bodied narratives, creating a slew of images destined to be manifested in indie-film montages, like when we watch her "watch Footloose with the biggest bottle of vodka in the world." Meanwhile, her delicate coos and sing-talk flurries are enhanced with ghostly guitars, groovy sax and funky bass lines.
White Hills' aesthetic is concise and to the point: space-rock head trauma brought on by a dive into a rabbit's hole of psycho-fuzz, brittle grooves and narcotic vox. As H-p1 can attest, these third-eye warriors spent a lot of time spinning their Hawkwind and Loop albums. This is a good thing, of course. But what distinguishes White Hills from other indie bands exploring similar terrain (like The Black Angels) is their devotion to sonic violence and multi-dimensional ruptures in the soundscape. To appreciate these points, crank "Movement," which melts into a clanging industrial racket.
Husband-and-wife Dan Boeckner and Alexei Perry have thrown out the six-string in favor of synths for third album Sound Kapital. It's a somewhat natural progression from Plague Park's sparse, keyboard-tinged experiments to Face Control's steady slide into electro-pop territory -- but it's also slightly jarring. Boeckner's always been an axe man, most notably fronting Wolf Parade, and to hear his Springsteen-echoing yelps encircled by big bass-y beats and laser-shooting synths may throw off some of his most devoted, especially those not versed in '80s synth-pop, industrial and Euro club music.
