Low Red Land, Dog’s Hymns. This San Francisco trio
excels at something few bands do well: melodic, driving, intermittently
heavy rock. The combination looks ideal on paper, but in practice often
reduces to formulas and predictable dynamics. Low Red Land, however,
escapes cliché by expressing angst without whining and hope
without entirely trusting it. (Thread Productions)
Ty Segall, Ty Segall. Ah, the one-man band: dweller of
street corners, hero of talent shows, lover of tambourines. San
Francisco’s Ty Segall does use a tambourine (duct-taped to the front of
his bass drum), but pairs it with a crashing hi-hat and a massively
overdriven guitar to create a raw, dirty rock sound that could just as
well come from a ’60s garage trio or ’70s punk band. (Castle Face
Records)
Diablo’s Dust, When Time Stops. One thing this Walnut
Creek husband-and-wife team doesn’t lack is enterprise. Thom and Sarah
Kilts have released three full-length albums in three years, each
featuring a medley of styles approximating a Celtic folk/indie-rock
hybrid. Funk basslines, looped riffs, and Thom’s best Eddie Vedder
impersonation, among other experiments, pepper When Time Stops with
unpredictable moments. (self-released)
Mi Ami, Watersports. Lead singer Daniel
Martin-McCormich screams in “The Man in Your House” like Kurt Cobain in
Nevermind’s “Territorial Pissings.” But Mi Ami isn’t looking to revive
grunge; its bent is more toward noise, with subtle, elusive
undercurrents of melody and rhythm shaped by both bass and percussion
that flow beneath a jagged, tense surface of high-pitch guitar and
vocals. (Quarterstick Records)
