Track Review

Hearing Lipsilk and there latest offering Bunk Notes feels like finding a crumpled receipt in an old jacket and realizing it’s a map to somewhere you forgot you loved. It’s the kind of indie rock that feels lived in and frayed around the edges like a favorite sweater because there’s a grit to the production that

There is a particular kind of electricity that only happens when a basement band realizes they are actually a riot in the making and that heat is exactly what Kombucha bottled on their debut title track Dude, Spiral!. It starts with a reckless urgency that feels like a midnight sprint through the narrow streets of

The headlights cut through the fog on a desolate stretch of highway and Jcutterwind provides the perfect soundtrack with the new track over. It feels like a transmission from a basement studio where the ghost of early Deftones still haunts the mixing desk and there is a weight here that feels earned because the music refuses to

There is a specific kind of electricity that hums through a fender stratocaster before the first chord even rings out and Grant Morriss knows exactly how to weaponize that static on his latest offering The Bit That Breaks. It starts with a nervous twitch of percussion but before you can settle into the rhythm a

Robyn M’s Overmorrow hits like a heavy wave of nostalgia that you didn’t know you were missing until the first distorted chord rings out. It’s got that thick and fuzzy guitar sound that reminds me of sitting in a basement in 1994 even though the artist behind it wasn’t even born yet. The track manages

There is a startling heat that radiates from the frost of a Montreal winter when Sum and Substance drops a track as heavy as Mighty. It arrived on Valentine’s Day but skipped the hollow romance for a jagged and brilliant look at the human ego and the way we try to build monuments out of sand. I remember

Imagine the sticky floor of a basement show in the Midwest where the humidity is high and the volume is higher. Be The Young grabs that specific lightning in a bottle on their new track Best Intentions and it hits with the force of a forgotten summer memory. The song starts with a drum fill

Nic Palmer lets a room breathe on Look Dad I’m a Rockstar and you can practically smell the stale coffee and heated vacuum tubes. The choice to track this with a living and breathing ensemble gives it a jagged edge and a raw immediacy that most bedroom-produced pop-punk lacks because the drums don’t follow a grid and