Welcome to “The Indie Inspection!”
In this monthly feature, I dive into new releases from a handful of artists that deserve attention. In fact, the Indie Inspection takes 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.
April Has Arrived!
And with it comes another month rich with superb music. In fact, I might have outdone myself this month. I definitely surprised my ears with what I picked. The longer this column runs, the more I ignore what the twenty-something version of Indie Inspection would have enjoyed. Sure, I still love spiky post-punk and quirky chamber-pop, but I also trust my gut more than ever before. Instead of worrying about trends and tastemakers, I follow my heart and chase after good vibes. Rules are made to be broken, and definitions are made to be challenged.
So, what exactly do we have on tap for this installment? Well, for starters, my “Singer-Songwriter of the Month” feature has completely broken containment. I’m talking four different artists who fall into that broad category: one bends towards pop, another toward folk, still another is a vintage troubadour, while the last one sits in the middle of the Venn Diagram the other three created. From there, we get some absurdist indie rock that would have been a huge hit on the ‘90s college rock circuit, and we’ll round things out with a country quartet my parents would have two-stepped to throughout the ‘70s.
Who’s ready to rock?
Blunt Chunks – The Butterfly Myth (Telephone Explosion)
The first Indie Inspection act of the month is a study in misaligned expectations. It’s about never judging a book by its cover. Typically, when you hear a name like “Blunt Chunks,” you imagine snotty crust-punk bands or obnoxious metal groups who are more interested in offending parents than making good music. You definitely don’t imagine dreamy, bittersweet folk-pop.
Because that’s exactly what you hear throughout the nine songs of The Butterfly Myth. On this gorgeous debut album, Caitlin Woelfle-O’Brien conjures sumptuous arrangements, superb instrumentation, and mature lyrics. She fuses ‘70s Laurel Canyon sensibilities with ‘10s indie-folk ambition in ways that remind me of Leigh Nash, Father John Misty, and Haim sharing their favorite Fleetwood Mac songs.
What truly sets this talented Toronto artist apart from her peers is how she doesn’t hide her breathy soprano under a deluge of ambient synth pads. It’s the focal point of her entire sonic approach, and it provides an earthy freshness that grounds the music instead of letting it float off into the ether. I recommend you check out “Psyche’s Flight,” “High Hopes,” and “Can’t Be the End” to get a clear grasp on her abilities.
Caleb Landry Jones – Hey Gary, Hey Dawn (Sacred Bones)
Do you remember when music could be weird on its own terms? I’m not thinking about obnoxious kids futzing about in their suburban garage, and I’m definitely not referring to people using technology to morph sound as an academic exercise. I’m talking about songwriters penning playful yet somehow sincere lyrics while also joining forces with like-minded musicians to push their collective ideas into fresh directions. And it still has to make your body move.
Well, it might just sound like the latest album from Caleb Landry Jones. Hey Gary, Hey Dawn combines psych, prog, and alt-rock into trippy outsider art that actually jams. This thirteen-song affair is deliciously oddball without cheese or pretense, complete with poppish layers and plenty of playfulness. It’s giving me Elephant 6, Butthole Surfers, and Violent Femmes, and Devo vibes – and I’m here for it.
It all starts with Jones and his delirious capacity for crafting crisp, buzzy tunes the burrow inside your brain. He then ramps up the experience with wacky song subjects and turns of phrase that hearken to the Beats and David Foster Wallace. The project reaches its peak through his ability to weave together a cacophony of music ideas into an organic whole that makes absolute sense in your ears. Don’t believe me? Then listen to “Spot a Fly,” “Corn Mine,” “Masandoia,” and “The Pageant Thieves” to hear exactly what I mean.
Gileah Taylor – Slow Parade (Velvet Blue Music)
My own musical journey occasionally confuses me. I’ve written a whole memoir about it, yet I still find fresh side quests worthy of exploration. Many of them confound me at first, because I don’t always understand how I arrive a certain location. But once I spend some time with a map, I eventually recognize where I am and what led me there.
The songs of Gileah Taylor represent one such diversion. I don’t normally think of myself as someone who enjoys introspective folk that’s mid-tempo at most and mostly devoid of anything approaching overt percussion. Yet, when I take a step back to examine everything that went into the creation of Slow Parade, the larger picture slowly reveals itself.
Taylor has this soothing, world-weary alto that I find impressive. Instead, it’s care-worn and accessible, which allows her to sing with the grace that only comes from experience. Furthermore, by turning the focus of her songs outward, she avoids coming across as maudlin or twee, which deepens her impact. And by striking a keen balance between piano- and guitar-led tunes, she knows when and how to let her voice breath. If’ you’re in the mood for a contemporary artist channeling the vintage sounds of Emmylou Harris, Over the Rhine, and Sam Phillips, you should enjoy standout tracks such as “Still Here,” “You Have Been Here, Too,” and “Stillness Surrounding.”
John Moreland – Visitor (Old Omens / Thirty Tigers)
Indie Inspection wishes he could be as brave as John Moreland. Imagine not using a smartphone or visiting any social media platforms for six entire months. I’m not even sure I could do it. I’d like to think I could trade in my pocket computer for a basic flip phone that only calls people. And I really wish I could ghost all of my online profiles without experiencing any FOMO. The real test of such a digital detox lies in doing so without actively putting my head in the sand and avoiding the world.
Which is exactly what Moreland accomplished on Visitor. He wrote the album over the course of a six-month departure from toxic technology, and then performed and recorded the twelve songs mostly on his own in ten days. He channels Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, and John Prine to create relatable, matter-of-fact tunes. I’m in love with the warm guitar tones, the track order, the tempo changes, and the breadth of instrumentation.
Moreland’s gravelly baritone sells the entire project. He brings a thoughtful and considerate air to lyrics that could be overtly prickly in lesser hands. By pursuing a down-to-earth ambiance, he amplifies the personal and intensifies the power of his message. It also helps that he’s not delivering an anti-technology screed. He advocates for a better understanding of these tools and a better relationship with them: what they are doing, what they could do, and what we should do. It’s a tremendous testament to the power of intimate, sociopolitical folk that isn’t strident or bursting with vitriolic polemics. I especially recommend “Gentle Violence,” “Blue Stream Carolina,” “Ain’t Much I Can Do About It” and the title track.
Katie Pruitt – Mantras (Rounder)
In a column full of fantastic singer-songwriters, we’ve arrived at the monthly “Could Have Been a Full Review” award recipient. Katie Pruitt strikes me as someone who’s completely aware of the musical traditions that have shaped her art. Even better, she can assemble those specific influences in a variety of ways that showcase their importance without being a copycat.
Pruitt brings that to life throughout Mantras. On her eleven-song debut, she cooks up a batch of sublime country-fried folk replete with religious imagery in the lyrics. It’s an earnest and authentic project that rejects tricks and gimmicks throughout, which means she immediately captured and then kept my attention.
From the jump, her clear, expressive alto stole the show by displaying good range and emotional vulnerability. This definitely proved effective in her songs about love, growing up, subverting gender roles, and addressing spiritual trauma. I also found her slightly off-kilter chord progressions to be charming, especially in how they provided some pop-inflected textures. Calling to mind a heady mix of Waxahatchee, Kacey Musgraves, and Amy Grant, it’s a brilliant, electric guitar-centric album with just enough piano and acoustic guitar in the arrangements. I encourage you to dive deep into songs like “All My Friends,” “White Lies, White Jesus, and You,” and “Worse Case Scenario.”
Nicolette & the Nobodies – The Long Way (ArtHaus)
Whenever I come across a true throwback country album, Indie Inspection immediately wonders whether or not I could see my parents dancing in my mind’s eye. That is my ultimate litmus test, as it embraces the nostalgia of my youth while also respecting the fact that my parents used to have good taste in music. If your songs bring me back to my ‘80s childhood home where my parents two-stepped and slow-danced around the living room, then you have won me over.
Which brings me to The Long Way, the debut album by Nicolette and the Nobodies. The group might be from Ontario, Canada, but this nine-song project delivers absolutely rip-roaring country & western music, ranging from ‘40s classic Western Swing to ‘80s revivalism. I’m talking Reba McEntire, The Judds, Mary Chapin Carpenter, and the first two Neko Case albums – complete with a pronounced flair for the dramatic.
Nicolette Hoang’s voice carries the day, as her astounding alto jumps out of the speakers with a vibrant tone and startling yelp. The big twanging guitar work of Ian Bain meshes well with the strong rhythm section of Emma Howarth-Withers on bass and Danny Fury on drums to create some big-time boogie. But it ultimately comes back to Hoang’s pipes and per lyrical perspective as a Canadian woman of Vietnamese descent singing country songs. Explore tracks such as “Rodeo,” “Ready or Not,” and the title track to hear what I mean.
Thanks for stopping by to read The Indie Inspection for April 2024. Please check out our archives for more recommendations.