wild nothing: gemini

coma cinema: baby prayers

i'm preemptively calling this a staple of poolside music to melt to in the summer heat.

this collective (revolving around a young gentleman named mat cothran) has been a constant stream of pleasant surprises. with only two songs extending past 2:17, the album is a whirl of quick sun imagery, wistful mentions of love, drug wash, and the dregs of stagnant sentiment. all barebones acoustic with the occasional accent of fuzz, over a refreshing, ever-present hum, and minimalist drums - it's near impossible to tell he ran in a pack with chaz bundick of toro y moi, while the two were both in college in the unexpected southeastern hotbed of south carolina.

the icing on the cake being that the album is completely free. plus, you get to check out this sick video:

be on the look out for their coming release stoned alone out june 1.

key tracks: 9-11 (free jazz band), cop caller, daffodils

japandroids: no singles

the thing about these guys is that they're only trying to be the fuck up, canadian twentysomethings that they really are. this ten song crash course through their first two eps (all lies and lullaby death jams) drags you through a hellish, emotional drone of benders, urban grime, desperation pleas, resentment, and uncertainty that should feel familiar to every, even vaguely, self-aware product of a privileged childhood.

an unrelenting, headlong demonstration of the trials and tribulations, frantic traces of young glory and triumph, and the imminent crushing lows - no singles makes sure you feel every circular twinge of the conscious emotional egotism, heavy accusation, and fickle ascension. all far from abandoned at their hellfire driven shows.

a perfect addition to the unique, archetypal, liquor-fueled revelry that is friday night youth guaranteed to deliver unrelenting self pity interspersed with delinquent lightheartedness (i.e. sunshine girls).

key tracks: darkness on the edge of gastown, lucifer's symphony

avi buffalo: avi buffalo

adolescence is defined by awkwardness, boorishness, arrogance, trepidation, bleeding eye pilgrimages, privileged skepticism, an unerring desire to be and not be part of it, and fear. but mostly its about sex. avi buffalo relish in the fact that this is the reality of our suburban collective unconscious because they themselves are a part of it. granted, we may fear mortality and feel burdened by some sort of expectations, but in reality every single one of us is desperately and frantically trying to get laid. as such lust is the quivering foundation of the record - with each spastic note and cracking vocal comes a descent further into the melancholic labyrinth that is the teenage mind.

for all of the talk of "summer cum" and "little sluts," avi buffalo have made a deceptively complex, and breathtakingly gorgeous record. quickly becoming one of my favorite albums of the year, their self-titled debut sits alongside real estate and astro coast as a torch-bearer of the suburban brat throne once held by pavement. seaside melodies tangle with chords drowned in reverb while avigdor zahner-isenberg bends and twists his voice too high and too low like a decidedly younger, thinner, and less sociopathic black francis. the malleable manifestation of the suburban psyche he sings about, zahner-isenberg's voice teeters on the edge of breaking - no note is safe as his face contorts and winces with each line. the songs simultaneously makes you want to lie on the beach, and also smash everything around you into pieces - taking to the streets to destroy every facade and establishment painted with artifice like some drug-fueled caulfield looking for a good time and something thats tangibly real. the beauty of avi buffalo is how tangibly pure and desperate and beautiful it is. it defines an age and a season and a place with nothing more than a few guitars, some pillow talk, and an insatiable appetite to live and/or die. 

key tracks: summer cum, remember last time, what's in it for?