Juno Recommends Rock / Indie / Folk / Metal / Punk / 50s / 60s March 2020

Review: It's hard not to be impressed by everything Grimes touches. From the moment this album's trippy downtempo titular opener emerges from submerged depths of sound you know the latest from the Canadian is going to be a special moment in pop. As if to accentuate our point, "Delete Forever", two tracks later, introduces acoustic guitar tips while still retaining deep timbre and utilising effects to hypnotic ends on those hummed vocal loops. "IDORU", which closes out the record, feels far more playful, simple keyboard and whispered choral lyricism introduced with a backing track of bird song, before broken club beats fall in. It might be most fitting to finish a write up on the aptly-titled "You'll Miss Me When I'm Not Around", its guttural bass guitars and EDM-leaning vocal stabs not the only things reminding us the world would be weaker without this one.

Review: Kevin Parker is a real enigma of a musician. The brains behind the rightly celebrated and ever-surprising Tame Impala, he's never one for delivering quite what you expect, while still understanding that one of the most important things in music is striking a balance between the familiarity disciples need, and the expressive exploration that can prick the ears of the previously uninitiated.

Album number four, "The Slow Rush", certainly adopts a different outlook to previous undertakings. It also more than lives up to its name. It's smooth, tripped out (perhaps not so surprising on the latter front) and strikingly void of those highs that seem to offer the aural equivalent to some opiate-amphetamine blend. But we don't miss out. Instead, we're given permutations of soul, prog rock and acid house, perhaps making for the most expansive record this guy has been responsible for.

Review: In the run up to the big reveal of her second album, lush-yet-broken Los Angeles singer songwriter Alexandra Savior was interviewed by Billboard magazine. Therein she expounded on the difficulty in making an album coherent, and judging one's own work.

It's safe to say "The Archer", produced by Sam Cohen's exceptional ear and released on Danger Mouse's ever-explorative and daring label, is both coherent and wonderful. "Soft Currents" opens a relentlessly high scoring track list with sombre, heartfelt vocals and piano, confirming Savior as an artist who can easily adopt more traditional aural styles. Things don't stay that way for long, though. "Crying All The Time" wouldn't sound out of place on a Lynch or Tarantino soundtrack, "Bad Disease" owes much to bluesy R&B, and "Saving Grace" packs a real psychedelic punch. We could go on, but the point should be pretty clear already.

Review: Scuzzy, sludgy, creeping, muscular and delicate-enough to feel there could be a break in its bones at any moment. King Krule returns with a third album that once again tears skin open to reveal the heartfelt emotions within its lo-fi, muttered, pseudo-rock tones. Referencing Sleaford Mods on heavy opiates wouldn't be too far from the mark at times, although we're not here to simply use touchstones - Archy Marshall deserves better than that. Despite almost everything on "Man Alive!" being so quiet, it packs an incredible level of noise. Subtle licks, strange details and a deceptive depth would be one way to describe the whole package. Grunge tones ("Supermarche"), lo-fi blues pop (""Don't Let The Dragon) Draag On") are just some of the nuances it's possible to pick upon, making for a wholly original work that captivates, relaxes and uneases in equal measure.

Review: Eating bats, drinking his own pee (while teaching the Motley Crue what's meant by eccentric British debauchery), and, err, co-starring in a reality TV show. Life has been a colourful one for Ozzy Osbourne, and we've not touched upon Black Sabbath. Impossible not to love, in spite of all the Satan summoning (albeit tongue in cheek), it would have been an awkward moment if this return wasn't exceptionally good. Of course it won't be for everyone. Those who aren't fond of dirty metal guts and dark, macabre riffs might want to look elsewhere for their kicks - it's not just "Goodbye" and "Today Is The End" respectively offering those. It's a record filled with plenty of foreboding menace, and we'd expect nothing less. Even so, there's still time for razor wit to shine ("Eat Me") and borderline madness to prevail (the extra-terrestrial themed "Scary Little Green Men"), making for a journey into the mind of a rock genius.

Review: It's hard to believe The Orielles are still so young when you consider their position as mainstays of British alternative indie-surf-rock-pop business. Then you remember how they grabbed attention while still in school, bursting from the former mill town of Halifax, West Yorkshire, to widespread acclaim, and refused to look back since. On "Disco Volador" they show just how much versatility they've mastered along the way. "Bobbi's Second World", for example, is plucked straight from the Tom Tom Club playbook - funk fuelled, good time mayhem. "Whilst The Flowers Look" is more in line with the stuff that first won everyone over, although perhaps more complex. "A Material Mistake" ushers in siren-like moodiness, underlaid with guitar licks and warm strings to combat the icier sections. Those who think pop music needs more ideas might want to take note.

Review: It's quite shocking it's been six years since the last Caribou album, 2014's knockout "Our Love". Dan Snaith has never felt the need to rush his music out, and there was an interim Daphni album in 2017 to be fair to the guy, but here we are with a new set that sees Snaith returning to a little of the delicate songwriting and winsome electronica he forged his reputation on in the early days. There's a lot going on in here, from smooth as silk yacht rock-isms to deliriously modernist cut ups and more than a few wild pitch shifts to keep listeners on their toes. It's playful and heartfelt, and rarely lingers in one place for too long while still retaining a sense of calm. It may be not at all what you expected from Caribou's return, but we'd wager it's even better than you hoped.

Review: With its wildly versatile, open-minded but business-driven music industry, the UK can't help but fall victim to the hype circus from time to time. Bands garner praise, and before you know it there's a debut album out everyone is telling you to fall in love with, despite the fact you know there's nothing to adore.

Fear not, HMLTD early adopters, we also know the London quintet are every bit as good as the words and phrases talking them up, and prove it on this inaugural long form. To ignore influences of glam rock and new romanticism is to disregard many of the troupe's stylistic traits, but those are really only half the story. Diving into "West Of Eden" is like welcoming all - or at least many - of Britain's contemporary sounds into your personal space, from trap and electro to post punk and guitar artiness. Exceptional stuff we'll leave you to explore further.

Review: If you're not up for words like "lovely", "blissful" and "gliding" on record then this one may not be for you. Then again, we'd sooner recommend trying it on for size than skipping past outright, as Tennis prove themselves to be every bit as compelling and captivating as they are seemingly sitting - or more accurately lackadaisically couching out - on some fluffy cloud overhead.

It's perhaps unsurprising that Tennis is married couple Alaina Moore and Patrick Riley, who wrote the nine-tracker while doing what some couples fantasise about, and others think of with fear as to whether it would wind up with one of them killing the other. Four months is a long time to be at sea with your partner, but in this instance it seems to have only united them. Balladry but of particularly exceptional quality, it's hard not to feel jealous at the ties that clearly bind this wife-husband duo.

Review: If Tindersticks' album, "No Treasure But Hope", represents the band embracing all their chamber pop sensibilities, delivering something that has plenty of operatic beauty and camp accessibility, "See My Girl", an EP which owes its title track to that LP, is something of a counterweight. Sort of.

Aside from the one piece taken from said record, here we're given something that's far more expansive and much less interested in genre lines. "A Street Walker's Carol" could well soundtrack some 1970s New Hollywood road movie. The aptly-titled "Blood & Bone", featuring Sidonie Osborne-Staples, invokes the most distorted of electro-rock tomes. Le Chien's re-rub of the titular adds pop-roots-reggae nuances into the equation. Consider this a curveball warning if "No Treasure", their 11th studio album, was your first experience of this incredibly fluid and varied band.

Review: If you're even close to 35-years-old, the initialisation "MTV" and the word "Unplugged" likely conjures images of peak-hype Nirvana, arguably the most defining and revered of all this format's many moments. Nevertheless, Courtney Barnett's electric-free contribution to the series, recorded live in Melbourne, may well be the best conceived in the episodic series. Rather than going down the usual "Unplugged" route - hits, covers of classics and a few from the new album, sans power chords, - Barnett confirms what those paying close attention have always known to be true. Yes, she's an inspiring and inspired artist, as work like "Nameless, Faceless" shows (here turned into a duet even more resonant and chilling than the original). But she's also a community leader, a gifted collaborator who has nurtured peers - and with half this album reimagining others, she's clearly still determined to let them shine.

Review: Sophie Allison returns to the release schedule to follow up her 2018 debut, "Clean", with an album that asks us to consider what is meant by words such as resilience, the nature of finding redemption for oneself and the importance of refocusing as an act of catharsis. It's also packed with the kind of catchy songs that make you want to hit repeat. Musically it's less fraught school run, and more lackadaisical light-footed indie rock that oozes a reflective cool. Timeless stuff, you might say, which calls to mind the likes of Sheryl Crow and other songwriting titans that managed to pluck subtle details of country, blues and pop to create something that's powerful but delicate without being twee. Songs about love that aren't gushing Hallmark romance, tracks about life that avoid the cliches while still ringing true for all in earshot.

Review: Some bands just can't be kept down, not that we'd want to try so the point is perhaps hard to prove. Self-doubt aside, Nada Surf are one of those groups, veterans of the Brooklyn indie rock scene that don't seem to have a bad album in them, "Never Not Together" is their glorious ninth, and it's just as powerful, optimistic yet reflective as ever.

Throughout their oeuvre the outfit have always felt as though they were in search of something, not that there are any sonic elements missing. Here again we can't help but feel a tangible yearning, that speaks to our hearts and feet as one. The propellant rhythm but sparse instrumentation on "So Much Love", the evolution of "Mathilda" from humble intro to full-throttle riff march are just two examples that invoke a sense of journey, which sounds so good. As such here's hoping they never reach that destination.

Review: Just when you thought it was safe to trust that former Women member Cindy Lee/Patrick Flegel has come up with something truly romantic and suited to its Valentine's Day release, a sample gets thrown into the mix, wherein a female voice talks about feeling dejected by Jesus but simultaneously rejecting Satan, thus being cast into some nothingness where neither good nor evil is your friend.

In truth there were smatterings of horror show blood all over this well before that point. It's a creeping menace hidden below 1960s blissful naivety, which makes the whole thing more effective. In certain moments it erupts from below, cacophonies of tortured noise and EBM bass, before the wind rushes through and replaces a storm with blue sky harmonies and innocent sunny days. It's electronic experimentation, with roots still traceable back to the old guitar band, and added sax. And eeriness. Exceptional stuff.

Review: Variety is the spice of life, as they say, and Oh Wonder have clearly attempted to distill that idea into their latest long form. So hard to pin down, the work here straddles many genres, all of which are accessible in their own way. Yet it never fully commits; universal adoration is clearly the goal.

For dedicated fans "No One Else Can Wear Your Crown" may be jarring. The record sees Josephine Vander Gucht and Anthony West, et al, explore avenues that aren't always the obvious matches for their sweet pop lullabies. There's more than a smattering of EDM throughout, see those power drops and all that synth discordance. "Nothing But You", arguably the finest here, sees contemporary R&B and shiny hip hop flows come to the fore. Of course there's plenty of Oh Wonder-ness too, "Happy" being one example, but this will be remembered as their most daring and different to date.

Review: Ben Chasny is back with his synth-drone-folk experiment, three years on from 2017's impressive "Burning The Threshold". How much has he learnt in the time between then and now? Plenty, it's fair to say, but he hasn't forgotten the simple truth that garnered his fan base, either - sometimes it's the most basic and stripped down sounds that offer the most beauty. There are waves of emotional electronica crashing around us throughout. Whether on "Mark Yourself", which uses unnatural noises to create a feeling of tangible discomfort, or the chords that glide through "Pacific". More organic avenues are explored on "The 101", but on the whole this is definitely one born from a 21st Century reading of journeyman tales. Distortion and effect pedals hitting the open road in some science fiction reading of traditional song craft. Or maybe that's just us.

Review: Riddle us this - just what is the deal with Iceland? Left alone to float on the North Atlantic's distinctly unwelcoming and ferociously unforgiving waves, aesthetically and culturally it's a nation very much of its own mind, with its own icons and mythology. Take Asgeir Trausti Einarsson, for example.

The haunting singer-songwriter may still be unfamiliar to many English-speaking listeners despite laying claim to some startling statistics. His debut album, "Dird i daudabogn" became the fastest selling record ever in his frosty homeland, outdoing the likes of Bjork and Sigur Ros. Now he's back for a third outing, and it's one of the most Icelandic things you'll hear all year. Packed with folksy roots and immersive atmospheres, you can almost feel the wild winds blowing gales across barren, near-lunar landscapes. Recorded using just a guitar, keyboard and basic kit, in a summerhouse during the bleak midwinter, it's hugely effective stuff.