Bored Nothing's soaking-wet garage fuzz will pull you in like a montage in any classic movie.
We gave away some cool music in April. And we pretty much got you covered, no matter what kind of music you like. Pensive singer-songwriter stuff? Yep. No-frills pop-punk? Uh-huh. A 12-minute synth-pop dance-floor epic? You bet
Mere college freshman, the four members of the Big Sweet have already absorbed the kinds of influences you don't usually discover until sophomore or junior year, after you've been dumped by your girlfriend and resigned yourself to spending Saturdays at the local record shop -- the one just off campus, near the divey burrito joint -- and chatting with the clerk about obscure power-pop and art-rock. (Or maybe that was just our experience?)
Brooklyn's neo-shoegaze indie scene rears its head again -- this time in the form of the lively feelgood trio Dead Stars.
The story of My Name Is You is the stuff of fairy tales. Brandon & Anne became friends while studying at the same college in Southern California. Their paths diverged at graduation, when Brandon undertook the normal duties of an ambitious independent musician; he co-produced Greg Laswell's release 'Three Flights From Alto Nido' and toured with the likes of Joshua Radin, Cary Brothers and Ingrid Michaelson. Thus far, not a bad resume.
Jack Duff's solo project is a heavy mix of salsa, dance and Saddle Creek-era indie pop inspired by
"sex, night swims in the ocean and surrealist art."
Inspired by "music, babes, surfing, art, film and anything made of clay," the Money Go Round is pop-rock band that takes the listener on a trip with each psychedelic track.
Pure Noise Records' top act, State Champs, are riding the wave of their highly successful debut, 'Overslept.'
A man can only rage for so long. After two years of playing guitar with the math-y Atlanta post-hardcore outfit the Chariot, Bryan Taylor has pulled up a desk chair and parked himself at the computer. There, piecing together tracks for his Slowriter side project, he fits together beats, loops, textures and lyrics, emerging with a kind of spoke-sung electro-pop.
What qualifies Nelson Nuñez and Jonny Molina -- a couple of NYC dudes who met four years ago at a recording studio and have since been bashing out totally boss garage-punk jams -- to sing about valley girls, those famously vapid mall-dwelling pariahs of Southern California?