Whilst such output has fleetingly tipped the hat to his formative enterprise along the way and Galaxie 500 songs have regularly reappeared in recent solo ensemble live shows, it’s taken until now for a fuller recorded reconnection with the most atmospheric elements of the hallowed group’s aural palette.
Adrian
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the fact that Hersh’s recent recordings have confirmed a renewed creativity means fresh rewards for those of us who have kept the faith over the years. Arguably providing the biggest late-reblooming flourish – following on from 2022’s rowdy yet textured Black Pearl with 50 Foot Wave and 2023’s sonically diverse Clear Pond Road solo outing – is this new nine-track set from Hersh’s mothership enterprise, Throwing Muses.
With his 2023 debut, Evensongs, having rightly been hailed for its modern but ageless psych-folk magnetism -- by Mark Radcliffe, Shindig! and the Guardian alike -- expectations are set quite high for this sequel set. Whilst the nine-song Collodion possibly doesn’t quite possess the same out-of-the-blue awe of its old-as-new prequel, this is still a sublime twenty-minute offering in its own right.
Whilst sadness surrounds the unveiling of this posthumous affair from The Chills – following the premature passing of the New Zealand group’s only constant member Martin Phillipps last year – we can take comfort in the fact that the late-reblooming legacy continues to be given considerate curation on Fire Records. A fully fledged and seemingly intentional swansong project, conceived by Phillips himself, Spring Board brings the band’s somewhat unwieldy story full circle to a well-groomed, if pathos-tinged, celebratory conclusion.
The documentary evidence of an accepted invitation to Maida Vale from the Yeovil-birthed quartet, this is an unpretentiously charming C86-era memento. Fleeting in duration yet brim-full of melodic energy and youthful camaraderie, these four recordings may possess plenty of period trappings, but they contain an elevating freshness.
For his latest long-player on Sonic Cathedral -- the punningly anointed Pinball Wanderer - Bell seems increasingly comfortable in his own sonic skin, to the point of allowing the boundaries between his two sole trader ventures to be openly blurred.
As cornerstone enterprises in what Electronic Sound magazine recently redubbed as the ‘grassroots electronica’ scene, Doncaster’s Woodford Halse and Biggleswade’s Castles In Space labels continue to curate physical and digital releases with care and affection, as well as supporting their signings to stretch beyond straightforward musical appliance reverence. As these first two new outings of 2025 from each imprint exemplify.
Although less prolific and less visible over the last decade after a rewarding thirty or so years of jointly directing The Walkabouts and Chris & Carla, Chris Eckman has remained a reassuring background presence as an adaptable Americana ambassador embedded in Europe.
The never-ending flexibility of folk-framed idioms is undoubtedly one of the music world’s undervalued gifts, with there being near-infinite creative power in the union of pastoralism and open-minded songcraft, as the following four full-length releases contest.
With 2025 already feeling somewhat weighed down with algorithmically-enhanced gloom, we’re undoubtedly going to need some sheer aural abandonment to get through the remaining pre-spring period… and indeed beyond. Enter then two new releases following divergent trajectories, aligned towards taking us away from it all.
After branching further out of apparent comfort zones across 2024 in terms of content and format manoeuvres, Precious Recordings pivots once again, around the turn of the New Year, with three self-set-boundary-breaking releases.
For those feeling forswunk and seeking to switch-off over the mid-winter break, then musical products conceived by artists in hermetic bubbles seem suitably worthy of some eleventh-hour examination, at the end of a very hectic 2024. As the three below albums attest…
Such is the sheer abundance of output from the music world in recent times -- which feels particularly acute this year -- it can be quite hard not to miss key things, even from reliable sources. Yet, thankfully, two distinctly dissimilar albums from the trusty homestead of Gard Du Nord Records have been extracted from the review pile just in time for Freq coverage in 2024. Both remind us that the label’s quietly radical diversity remains a compelling force running in the background of the record-releasing business.
On reaching its twentieth birthday, Nathaniel Cramp’s Sonic Cathedral label has arguably benefitted from a degree of nominative determinism. Whilst he has tirelessly championed the sacred tenets of shoegaze, it’s not been in a restrictive small chapel sect-like way, but in a very broad-church fashion.
Skep Wax Carrying on from a richly productive 2023, Amelia Fletcher and Rob Pursey’s stealthily effective Skep Wax label set-up has this year continued to alternate between curating latter-day ventures from indie-pop veterans and nurturing newer talents. Whilst this has manifested in a slightly lower output in terms of records released, in favour of more live events, the tail end of 2024 and the start of 2025 seems […]
Whilst many bands at certain operational levels come alive for evenings and weekends, it seems as if the members of Chicago power-trio Stomatopod need them more than most outside of their day jobs, to discharge emotionally and recharge electrically. With this second full-length album from the ensemble – following on from 2022’s sturdy six-song Steve Albini-cut Competing With Hindsight mini-LP – it feels like the post-nine-to-five uncorking is positively explosive.
With their creative stock having risen again off the back of last year’s Music For KIDS archival release on Domino and this year’s surprisingly strong new studio album Walk Thru Me on Joyful Noise, it’s perhaps no surprise that John Davis and Lou Barlow’s reunion as The Folk Implosion has continued so wholeheartedly for a quite lengthy UK tour.
Having first emerged thirty odd years ago in Leicester, as a lesser-known and more bucolic presence in the UK’s post-rock micro-boom, the longevity of Lazarus Clamp recently feels like it has followed the operational influence of chameleonic Chicago legends Eleventh Dream Day. Not in the sense that the band has had a major label dalliance to survive and evolve on from, but in the way that Michael Larkin and co. have latterly only come together to record when the songs, people, day-jobs, family commitments and logistics all allow -- which can take literally years.