Welcome to “The Indie Inspection!”
In this monthly feature, I dive into new releases from a handful of artists that deserve attention. This regular column will take full advantage of the malleability of “indie” as a concept and aesthetic. That could mean lesser-known acts releasing their music either independently or on a smaller label. It could also refer to artistic vibes and approaches that fall outside of the mainstream. It might even mean nothing at all!
My advice? Leave your preconceived notions at the door and just listen to the music.
Happy New Year, music fans!
Let me be the first to declare that the January installment of The Indie Inspection should serve as a bellwether for the rest of 2023. This month’s column contains all manner of aural excellence. We’ve got minimalist indie rock, troubadour country, prog-influenced electro, sociopolitical electro-rock, and more. Why don’t you plug in your good headphones, crank up the volume, and get to listening?!
Elliott Green – Everything I Lack (Count Your Lucky Stars)
Calling all fans of boygenius! To be clear, I’m not being reductive or simplistic with that claim. Sure, Everything I Lack by Elliott Green contains all the hallmarks of music made by that trio and in their respective solo careers. Yes, her songs feature delicate vocals with gentle reverb, sparse arrangements, and relatively clean production. And yes, she pens emotionally open and vulnerable lyrics about life and love without being treacly or sentimental.
But what sets Green’s album apart from Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus is her guitar wizardry. Opting for a minimalist aesthetic, she puts her voice and musicianship front and center. Yet, instead of forcing you to pay attention to how she effortlessly weaves her lovely soprano and skill with plucked melody lines, the effect is akin to a warm invitation. By rejecting affectation and choosing honesty, she has created an album that encourages forthright discussions about your feelings.
Everything I Lack will delight the determined dreamers among us, especially the ones who rejoice in both the furious crescendos and the day-to-day realities of bringing their visions to life. Check out “Second Try,” “Goodness,” and “Separate Beds” to hear what I really mean.
JD Clayton – Long Way From Home (Independent)
Oh look – it’s another artist giving Indie Inspection hope for country music as we enter the heart of the 21st century. On Long Way From Home, JD Clayton waxes rhapsodic about the trials, tribulations, joys, and pains of the working musician. While he doesn’t romanticize the troubadour life, his music focuses upon the optimistic and dreamy elements of the calling without totally ignoring its often lonely realities.
I especially love his deft touch for creating accessible country-folk that hearkens to vintage sounds while not being indebted to them. For starters, Clayton’s nasally, twangy voice finds a home in the rich, full production of this album. The straightforward arrangements and tight musical performances give ample room for the tunes to rip and for his classic storytelling acumen to shine. Moreover, his affection for rock elements and poppy flair combines with ‘50s country and ‘90s Texas red dirt should win him the respect of contemporary outsider country artists and fans.
If you’re in the mood for an artist who calls to mind Merle Haggard, John Prine, Margo Price, and Kacey Musgraves, then you should love JD Clayton. My favorites on Long Way From Home include “Beauty Queen,” “Midnight Special,” and the evocative title track.
Liela Moss – Internal Working Model (Bella Union)
On one hand, Liela Moss almost falls outside the purview of this column. As the lead singer of the celebrated, currently on-hiatus act The Duke Spirit, her voice and name aren’t necessarily underground or unrecognized. She is a prodigious talent, and she brings it to bear throughout the sexy goth rock of Internal Working Model. On the other hand, this is my column, so I can talk about whoever the hell I want.
From the jump, Moss uses her gorgeous soprano voice to eviscerate how technology has been used and abused to the detriment of society. Starting with a rich, resonant bed of industrial-lite production, she delivers deliciously caustic bromides atop harsh keyboard melodies, brash beats, and grimy synth pads. The snarling music manages to be sinister and sensual while also avoiding overwrought cliches. She accomplishes such a feat by circumventing nihilism and choosing to dream big.
Internal Working Model channels Portishead, Savages, Bauhaus, and Depeche Mode, especially in how Liela Moss embraces her frustration and channels her aggression. Sometimes the best way to fight the encroaching dark is to actively seek the light. I can only hope that more people hear this album and embrace its message and beauty, especially as heard on cuts like “Empathy Files,” “WOO (No One’s Awake),” and “Welcome to It.”
Marlody – I’m Not Sure at All (Skepwax)
Holy shit. This is easily the best album Indie Inspection listened to this month. I’m Not Sure at All is the debut album by Marlody, a classically trained British pianist with a lovely voice that sits between alto and mezzo-soprano. Her 10-song album overflows with a dreamy brand of piano-pop that openly flirts with chamber-pop and Liszt-ian compositional flourishes.
Marlody’s impressive vocals serve as a comfortable focal point for the project. While I adore her excellent range, I’m an even bigger fan of how she knows exactly when to let it break and crack to complement certain parts of her songs. Her delightful brand of piano playing will draw obvious comparisons to early Tori Amos, but the overall effect is more like early Belle and Sebastian meets Cate Le Bon. I’m also a fan of her relatable lyricism, as she talks openly about longing and romantic love, but without any twee affectation.
I’m Not Sure at All straddles the line between minimal and precious with confidence. Marlody possesses a mature capacity for nuanced arrangements. Some songs feature just piano and vocals, others showcase increased instrumentation nearly approaching full band levels, while others still relax into atmospheric beats. While you should definitely listen to this entire album, I heartily recommend “Runaway,” “These Doubts,” “Friends in Low Places,” and “Otherly.”
The Murder Capital – Gigi’s Recovery (Human Season)
As someone who spent his 20s right alongside the ‘00s post-punk revival, Indie Inspection has a rather keen filter for that stuff. It’s not that I don’t like the new stuff, but it’s more like I have higher expectations for what’s worth my time as a listener. The world doesn’t need more bands trying to channel both Gang of Four AND Interpol.
Which is why I quite enjoyed Gigi’s Recovery, the new album by The Murder Capital. Hailing from Dublin, Ireland, this sharp-edged quintet delivers post-punk ambition with theatrical intention, yet thankfully removes any overwrought dramatics. The band’s warm embrace of electronic elements helps them create trippy art-rock and post-rock textures that distinguish themselves from their contemporaries.
I’m a big fan of how the deep bass lines and clattering drums provide a sturdy foundation for James McGovern’s droning baritone. His rangy vocals frequently engage in interpretive dance routines with skronky guitar licks of Damien Tuit and Cathal Roper to provide electric moods. To that end, Gigi’s Recovery features terrific energy and realistic depictions of modern relationships and the pains of maturity. To hear The Murder Capital at their best, I suggest beginning with “Crying,” “Ethel,” “We Had to Disappear,” and the title track.
Rob Kovacs – Straylight OST (Emperia)
Indie Inspection didn’t grow up listening to electronic music of any sort – except for what I heard in video games. My heart still leaps when I hear the themes from the original Super Mario Brothers, The Legend of Zelda, and other ‘80s Nintendo classics. I could make a good case for how my affection for playing RPG series like Final Fantasy and Dragon Warrior/Quest helped prepare my brain for enjoying electronic music even as I only listened to rock in my teens and early 20s.
Thus, the new album from Rob Kovacs gives me such a dopamine rush. STRAYLIGHT is the score for a brand-new virtual reality game of the same name created by Dr. Bloc. This 10-song project hearkens to the original TRON soundtrack, the Season 1 score for Stranger Things, M83’s soundtrack work, and ‘00s progressive trance – all without any overt copycatting.
Kovacs’ lovely synth work grounds the entire effort, as he creates dense layers of melodic textures and thoughtful ideas. Without ever playing the game, it’s easy to imagine the characters’ actions in the propulsive movement of these arrangements. The kinetic pacing of these tunes creates earnest feelings of purposeful activity and flow without being annoying or sounding forced.
It helps that these propulsive tunes call to mind the synth and keyboard magic of prog-minded pianists such as Jordan Rudess and Derek Sherinian. STRAYLIGHT soars when it fuses cyberpunk elements with futuristic and happy overtones to create simply gorgeous music. You should explore “The Last Campfire,” “Devil Star,” “The End,” and the title track to hear what I mean.