Tag: My Vitriol Finelines

With the release of their debut track “Ambulance,” the Brooklyn-based indie rock quartet Russian Baths, comprised of Luke Koz, Jess Ress, Evan Gill Smith and Jeff Widner, received attention for a sound that the band has described as nodding at Big Black, 70s space rock, Big Muff and British post punk among others; however, “Slenderman,” which I wrote about last month, reminded me much more of brooding, 90s alt rock/120 Minutes-era MTV as the song featured the familiar alternating quiet, loud, quiet song structure — in which you would have had heard shimmering guitar chords, throbbing bass chords and propulsive drumming paired with a rousingly anthemic hook.


Interestingly, “What’s In Your Basement,” the latest single off the Brooklyn-based act’s forthcoming EP Penance continues the 90s alt rock vibes — but this time, their latest single is blistering and abrasive, mosh pit worthy grunge rock that brings to mind Bleach and In Utero-era Nirvana and Finelines-era My Vitriol, with a similar balls-to-the-walls self-assuredness.

Penance drops on February 23rd.


Last month, I wrote about  the Leeds, UK-based shoegazer quintet Colour of Spring and their 120 Minutes-era MTV-like single “Echoes,” a single about “losing the innocence of youth..” The up-and-coming British band, which is comprised of Shane Hunter (vocals, guitar), Robin Deione (guitar), Tom Gregory (bass), Mark Rochman (drums) and Charlie Addison (keys) have receive praise from NME and The Line of Best Fit for a sound that has been compared favorably to Wild Nothing,  Beach Fossils and others. Continuing to build on the buzz they’ve been receiving both in their homeland and elsewhere — including this site — the band has released their latest single “Love,” a towering and swirling bit of classic-leaning shoegaze that while seemingly drawing from RIDE and A Storm in Heaven-era The Verve, manages to also nod at Finelines-era My Vitriol.

As the band’s Shane Hunter explains, “‘Love’ is about the initial prospect of being in love, where everything is confusing, awkward and exciting all at the same time. You’re learning someone else and they’re learning you, all of your idiosyncrasies that you daren’t share with anyone else. There’s so many prominent, strong emotions that it can get really overwhelming. You don’t want to to blow it being your usual stupid self!” And as a result, the song feels like the anxious self-talk of someone trying to psych themselves out and not try to fuck something up — but on a certain level, they’re human and they’ll inevitably find a way to fuck it all up and do it again, as we all do at some point.

Comprised of Bert Cannaerts (vocals/guitar), Giel Torfs (guitar/backing vocals), Philippe Corthout (guitar), Robby Geybels (bass) and Stef Gouwkens (drums), Newmoon are an Antwerp and Ghent, Belgium-based indie rock quintet derive their name from an Elliot Smith album, and although they formed in 2013, they can trace their origins to the breakup of locally renowned hardcore punk band Midnight Souls. Certainly, for anyone who may have been familiar with their previous project, Newmoon may superficially appear to be sonic change in direction, a proverbial left turn — despite the fact that reportedly, the band’s influences have almost always been the same: The Jesus and Mary Chain, Slowdive, Ramones, Oasis, and Sunn o))).

Their debut EP was released Touché Amoré’s label Secret Voice/Deathwish Inc. and the reconvened and rebranded quintet quickly built up a profile across the European Union as they’ve toured with the likes of Touché Amoré, Basement, Nothing and Cloakroom, and others. Building upon the buzz they’ve received, the band will be releasing their anticipated full-length debut as Newmoon, Space in October through PIAS Records. And the album’s first single “Head of Stone,” which was written while the band was on a bullet train between Tokyo and Kyoto and is primarily about the feeling of being lost and alone when you confront an impenetrable language barrier — the sort in which you don’t speak or understand a word of that country’s language and the people around you don’t speak your language. As the band’s Bert Cannaerts explains in press notes, “I realised that there’s something very frightening about being in a place where you are unable to connect to people in any way. You cannot understand the language they are speaking; you can’t understand any visual cues. This can make you feel isolated and invisible. The same thing can happen with emotional relationships. They get to a point where people become unable to communicate, and emotions and nuances are lost. This leads to isolation and resentment and people go their separate ways.”

As for the song you’ll hear propulsive, four-on-the-floor drumming, layers upon layers of gently buzzing power chords and anthemic hooks with ethereal vocals bubbling over an enveloping and dreamy sound and to my ears, I’m reminded of My Vitriol‘s FinelinesA Storm in Heaven and A Northern Soul-era The Verve and others — but with a subtly expansive song structure as the song possesses an explosive introduction,  the previously mentioned anthemic hook and a towering bridge with a mind-altering guitar solo.