Tag: Woods

Khruangbin promises exotic destinations and luxurious accommodations in the distant hum of a prop engine.

It’s a bitterly cold night, though the thermometer is not the lowest it’s been this winter. Warming things up is King Tuff, whose twisted bedroom psychedelia is heating up my house in the manner of an unexpected early spring. It’s a strong start for an extended set of sounds simultaneously catchy and powerful. Technical note: The Mixtape sounds best when recorded on TDK SA90 cassettes. Do not attempt to do this on Maxell XLIIs.

Canadian indie guitar geniuses Born Ruffians have released two great albums in less than a year, and easily earned the distinction of being the first artist to twice be featured on a Mixtape.

The sound of Star Feminine Band is born of Benin, brightly colored patterns, and wild abandon, young carefree voices skipping over liquid guitar and intense percussion.

If I could use synesthesia to describe Woods’ music, I would say it sounds like sparkling pastel day-go colors.

The journey to the island had been placid, cutting through the postcard-blue waters on the kite hydrofoil like an experienced tailor shearing fine cloth for a new suit. Things were a bit more complicated now that they were at the Heraklion Archaeological Museum. The horologist consulted the mission notes, which simply stated “remove all anachronistic displays.” The historian, fearing seasickness, had taken a pill and was now having a comically adverse reaction that rendered them useless for these judgements. A security guard eyed them warily, but perhaps they could turn the situation to their advantage by playing up the effects as excessive inebriation.

If this band were actual woods, they would be filled with fog swirling in sunlight, sparkling yet tenebrous, a distant falsetto clearly audible inside your ear as the leaves are chiming in the light.

It’s hard to to live up to a name like Young Fresh Fellows when you’ve been at it for almost 40 years, but good time rock and roll never goes out of style.

The Shilin Night Market had seemed to grow even more chaotic in the intervening years, yet the vendors and customers still retained their preternatural calm, as if the events happening all around them were due to forces completely out of their control. As the skeptic checked the status lights on the Stinky Tofu Containment Device for the seventh time that mission, the inspector pinged the jetpacks they had secured under a table of bejeweled phone cases to make sure they were primed for a quick getaway. Their progress came to a sudden halt as they considered the sign before them: “Small Sausage In Large Sausage - $120”

The Just Joans keep it in the family, and they keep it fairly civil, covering their lethally caustic Scottish wit in a layer of pleasant pop.