In light of the current closures the 11th annual Burger Boogaloo festival just announced it will be moving their July dates to Halloween weekend to best accommodate the artists on this year’s phat lineup. Host John Waters shares, “A virus may scare the punk rock world out of Oakland in July but we’ll scare it right back on Halloween weekend! Trick or treat, we can’t be beat! Burger Boogaloo 2020: a Monster Mash to top them all!” That’s the attitude we like to hear! Playing their first show in 25 years, we’re thrilled Bikini Kill is taking the stage, along with Belgian super punk star Plastic Bertrand for their first ever Bay Area show. Oakland favorites like Shannon Shaw (who’s playing a solo set, though we’re wondering if any of the Clams might sneak on stage?) and The Younger Lovers. Secure your Burger Boogaloo tickets now, and if you’re already snagged ‘em, all tickets will still be honored. Let’s all plunk something to look forward to on the calendar for October 31 and November 1st and start thinking of your costumes while you’re at it. –Michelle Kicherer, Associate Editor

The saturated image of a fleeing canine adorns the cover of Red Wolf, a recent release by New York experimental rock trio Spacer, a fitting image given the effort’s skittish, sometimes wandering internal monologue and its fight-or-flight inducing guitar work. Through sludgey drop tunings with a slight psych influence, Spacer impress on listeners a sense of indefinable external danger, or at the very least a mild malaise, over the course of six tracks, replete with an impressionistic approach to lyricism and distorted, heavy shredding. Visceral and anxiety-inducing, it’s evocative of Boris’ Akuma No Uta, the type of record for those seeking an experimental, noisy release from the city’s current quietude. Stream it below.

Brooklyn-based post-rock / jazz trio Scree best hone their sound in a live setting — their set opening for Ben Seretan this past February was, in my opinion, one of the more transcendent performances i’ve seen in recent years. Live at The Owl captures much of the unbridled, experimental aspects that make the group such a joy to listen to, brimming with noodling interplay between upbeat bass and live guitar, shuffling freeform percussion, and well-timed discordant segues that introduce a cerebral, melancholic break from melody. Unfortunately not present on the LP are guitarist Ryan Beckley’s inter-track spoken word interludes (which offered a nice reprieve from the band’s swirling, blue-toned sound in concert); until the dust settles on New York’s indefinite concert postponement and you can enjoy Scree IRL, stream this masterful instrumental effort below. —Connor Beckett McInerney, Photo by Jason Burger

NJ electropop outfit Clown, Baby make easily danceable tunes with an 80s slant, albeit with an ear for the charmingly irreverent. Over the course of new EP In my car, the band details the merits of choosing a proletarian ride over showboating muscle cars (“toyota corolla”), the virtues of love bites (“eightdog”), and the undeniable attraction of apathetic heart-throbs (“baditude”), all presented with plush, playful synth leads and relaxed, almost lounge-like vocal performances. While the release plays into a number of songwriting tropes from an era of big hair and teenage hedonism, the extended play resonates instead as a joyful, groove focused effort, evocative of both the B-52’s campy jams and the off-kilter stylings of early Metronomy — stream it below if you’re looking for a good time. Photo by Bobby Greco.

Lush electronics, memories which have just started to fade, and an abiding, comforting acoustic guitar bolster “Come By,” the latest single by niecesandnephews, but the song finds its greatest strength in the human voice. Composer-producer-songwriter Mario Gutierrez’s baritone register, in collaboration with Sara Sommerer, provides narration of events both past and present, unfurling a tale of lost love among a sea of bright instrumentation, almost as if he’s telling a long, sad story of indeterminate ending. Better yet, his choice pairing of folk textures with synthetic accents presents receding recollections of the past in appropriately hazy fashion — Gutierrez said the track itself details how, in recalling bygone romance, that “the vision is generally unclear, but we wish to just have that moment to show we can bring, but that time doesn’t come.” As such, it’s recommended listening for your next nostalgia trip, or for fans of Bon Iver circa 22, A Million era — stream it below.

Despite currently being pent-up in Bushwick, indie quartet My Son the Doctor demonstrate they know how to have a good time in small spaces on debut single “Dancing In Your Basement.” A raucous ripping two minute track driven by frontman Brian Hemmert’s lilting, expressive vocal performance and driving garage instrumentation, the song is four pounds of kickass in a two pound bag, a concise, blood-pumping vamp wherein the band can tout their cohesive, breakneck rock sound. These adrenaline-pumping acrobatics are in large part the goal for the group, because when they’re not dropping cryptic, weirdly prescient philosophical tidbits in the middle of a chorus (the lyric “time is such a foreign substance” took on new meaning for many this week), My Son The Doctor’s primary focus is jazzing you the hell up. “We wanted ‘Dancing In Your Basement’ to be the first song released off the EP because, honestly, we think it rips the hardest, and we want people stoked,” said drummer John Mason. Mission well accomplished — stream our premiere of the track below, and keep an eye out for their EP Dad Time, out May of this year. Photo by Brian Stoothoff

Nyack, NY emo three-piece Impossible Colors hit their stride on “Gravity,” laying down an uplifting triumphant track, with visuals apropos. Driving electric guitar arpeggios and concise, sprung clock drumming propel the song forward, underscoring an imaginative video of a rock mission-control room and their attempts to launch a cardboard rocket into space. The entire production creatively illustrates the song’s lyricism, which draws comparisons between long distance relationships and a lost astronaut, in a manner that incorporates both a mature worldview and a childlike sincerity, highlighting the emotive nature of Impossible Color’s sound without becoming burdened by the often tough reality of modern romance. Moreover, it’s an excellent visual and musical palette cleanser if you’re currently feeling distant from those close to you — give it a watch below, and check out their recently released full length Picture Erased.

New York experimental outfit Ritual Boys Club is a hard group to pin down. Their debut LP Fishing in Roon radiates a wide range of disparate indie subgenera, sometimes simultaneously and authorities in quick succession — droney slowcore can quickly become upbeat jangle jams, math-y breakdowns congeal into twee indie, with the whole project underscored by the pleasant lo-fi hiss of tape recording. It’s this drive towards experimentation, towards seeking out inscrutable electric guitar-centric soundscapes, that makes the record so incredibly listenable, twisting at each track towards a new undefined direction, yet unified under the intimacy of Ella Sinskey’s intimate, almost home-recording quality vocals and concise, focused songwriting. Recommended for fans of Avi Buffalo, or perhaps those seeking a quieter band in the vein of Captain Beefheart, give it a listen below. 
 

In process of falling for someone, it’s common to recognize minuscule benchmark moments when you know someone is “the One,” the fleeting mental images one surreptitiously captures when they know they’re in it, deep. This experience of recalling such lovely bite-sized memories largely informs “Glue,” the latest track by psych rock savant Constantine Anastasakis, better known as Blonder. Amidst fuzzy riffing and hazy synthesizers, Anastasakis’ sweet phaser-laden vocals deliver plainspoken aphorisms (“love is sunlight going through your brown hair”), finding time in the track’s chorus to employ more metaphorical language that likens infatuation to floating on a cloud or discovering a solution that helps keep things “glued” together. Such misty recollections and dreamy comparisons, when coupled with instrumentation evocative of Tame Impala’s Currents and MGMT’s Congratulations, help to sonically recreate the somewhat indescribable experience of falling — the pleasant disorientation and often surreal headspace inherent to discovering how much we truly value another person. It’s confusing and terrifying, and sometimes the best solution is to just let the music play out — that said, give the song (and its accompanying visuals) a play below.

“Phonograph,” the latest single by New York mutli-instrumentalist and songwriter Vlad Holiday, has all the trappings of neo-noir soundtrack — compressed vox, dreamy telecasters, and a visual component that sets the scene for any variety of seedy midnight capers. Betwixt shots of the M train’s exterior as it snakes through Brooklyn, we catch solitary scenes of Vlad Holiday solitarily crooning in the studio, his echoing vocals seemingly dissipating into the room amidst the hissing of vinyl, creating a brief hush before a full brash fanfare dramatically accents the song’s chorus. Such stirring visuals encapsulate Holiday’s lonely, longing lyrics, and creates the perfect aesthetic for this tune’s backdrop. Reminiscent of equal parts Can and early Phantogram, it’s recommended viewing for those seeking an atmospheric nocture trip — watch it below. Photo by Chaunte Vaughn

It was 1977 when David Bowie, drawing inspiration from the sight of his producer embracing his lover by the Berlin Wall, released “Heroes,” ostensibly one of his best singles (and probably one of the greatest rock tracks of all time). While the politics of the period undoubtedly underscore the song’s lyrics, the track’s core theme is distance, the varying uncontrollable factors that keep us from the people we long most to see. Though this is may be an ahistorical reading of Ziggy Stardust’s intentions, it’s hard not to listen to Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist Jeremiah Brunnhoetzl’s (d.b.a. Arlo Indigo) cover without considering the context of our contemporary malaise-ridden daydream — in the age of social distancing, it’s likely many of us find ourselves fantasizing about how things would be, how great things could be, if the odds could be overcome, albeit briefly. Thankfully, Brunnhoetzl’s “blue pop” instrumentation, his pulsing synth-driven, 80s-tinged approach to Bowie’s work, masterfully captures the original’s dispirited energy with a contemporary spin. Give it a listen below.

David Pattillo is something of a blues rock cult hero in New York City, but you could likely tell that from looking at him. Replete with hair well-below the shoulders and a flare for late 60s / early 70s fashion, his music under the moniker Strange Majik conjures up classic influences, which when channeled through a contemporary filter, become something else entirely that’s wholly (and delightfully) weird. His latest offering 20/20 excels in this mishmash of past and present sounds, a psych-y, funky odyssey that reads like an alternate history Summer of Love wherein the public found out every batshit conspiracy theory of the time turned out to be true (as opposed to being declassified years later). And while Pattillo’s craft is in a five decade long tradition, his songwriting is very much of-the-times, which makes for an engaging cognitive dissonance — hearing Strange Majik groove under lyrics describing the breakbeat pace of modern living (“World On Fire”) and the surveillance state (“Whistleblower”) feels inherently anachronistic, a prediction of things yet to come hidden in dusty forgotten vinyl. Moreover, this combination of a modern worldview, a carefully curated mix of genera, and Pattillo’s strange bent succeeds in making a rock and roll record that feels truly contemporary, a task that’s no small feat these days. Play it loud, below. —Connor Beckett McInerney, photo by Ky DiGregorio