Youth Lagoon Gets Bitter In Third Single, "Rotten Human"

Trevor Powers, AKA Youth Lagoon, continues the rollout of his forthcoming third record Savage Hills Ballroom with "Rotten Human," his bitter third single behind "Highway Patrol Stun Gun" and "The Knower."

Showcasing increasingly dynamic and vulnerable vocals juxtaposed with a still introspective yet more unwavering drive, Youth Lagoon has newfound conviction but is still just as dissatisfied, itching to set the record straight over a cruising tide of dark melodies.

When asked what the new song means to him, Powers told Nerdist,

“Throughout the process of writing this album—about two years—I’ve gone on this spiritual journey to learn more about myself and my faults and all this stuff that I’ve tended ignore for a really long time. It’s so much easier to go through each day and forget the previous day or forget the hurtful things you said to someone or whatever it might be, just the shitty parts of your life. This song is addressing that. It’s really examining what it is that makes me who I am, and what parts of that are disgusting.”

"You are the habit I couldn't break," Powers laments later on in the track. As excited as we are for the new LP, I think we could say the same about him.

"Savage Hills Ballroom" in stores September 25, 2015 iTunes: http://smarturl.it/ylshb LP/CD: http://smarturl.it/YLSHB-preorder

Savage Hills Ballroom is out September 25th via Fat Possum. Check out Youth Lagoon's tour dates here.

Majical Cloudz Doesn't Blink Once In "Silver Car Crash" and It's Lovely

Majical Cloudz's new music video for "Silver Car Crash," the first single from his forthcoming sophomore album Are You Alone?, is a playfully off-putting and genuine little black-and-white journey with Devon Welsh as he balances on a railroad track and stares directly into your soul.

Earnest and simple, it eschews the grand production of moving masterpieces "Childhood's End" and "Bugs Don't Buzz," more resembling the DIY charm of "Savage," all without one. single. blink.

Are You Alone? is out October 16 via Matador.

Foals Elevate Power and Control on 'What Went Down'

Foals’ reputation as one of the best live acts of the current generation should by no means detract from their recorded efforts; what is kinetic energy on stage drips and pulses through the grooves of both the vinyl and the music itself. Even their spinning wax can elicit more rapture than many live acts today, still you can’t help but feel What Went Down is the best advertisement for an impending tour a band could hope for.

Absolutely massacring the starting gate with the title track, guitarist and vocalist Yannis Philippakis and co. conquest straight through the heavier territories they had only previously visited with “Inhaler.” Complete with cover art evoking the horror movie style of The Ring, it’s a downright animalist and violent first impression. Recorded in the same village in the south of France where, according to the press release, "Van Gogh was hospitalised after savaging his own ear,” you have to wonder if there's something in the water; “What Went Down” savages your ears just the same, one steamrolling riff and punchy howl at a time. Philippakis claims to have "buried his heart in a pit in the south,” and if he’s truly left part of himself in that soil we can only imagine what will grow out of it next.

In terms of the track listing it's quickly revealed what follows, however. “I drive my car without the breaks,” Philippakis recklessly informs in the radio ready yet earnest “Mountain At My Gates,” but with the way he expertly steers through the hazardous path you can enjoy the throttling ride. "Birch Tree” then implores “Meet me by the river / See how time flows,” nodding to the evolution of the Oxfordshire rockers’ discographical transition. 

“The city I was born in / Left a long time ago,” he recalls over jumpy guitar reminiscent of “Total Life Forever.” Having come far from their mathy and youthful debut Antidotes to the angsty, self-exploratory sprawl of Total Life Forever, Foals breakout album was arguably 2013’s Holy Fire on which they honed their seeping vulnerability and visceral guitar hooks into a full-bodied masterpiece. That veteran professionalism expands on their newest LP, and while its newfound comfort verges on the slippery slope to arena rock at times it never falls prey to the completely jaded polish of rock stars past their prime. The scent of blood and the hunger that drives them towards it is still there, even if it’s smeared across Philippakis own face now post-fistfight. Aggressive, confident, and tight, they’ve unabashedly taken "over your town;” no longer looking for space, Foals have found it and are asserting dominance over it.

It may be the fullest sounding record they’ve made, but with this increase in depth comes the least dynamism they’ve exhibited in a while, slowing down from then on to hit a bit of a midrange that consumes the majority of the record. “Give It All” explores a hint of oriental melodies behind its unequivocally English breakup lament “But you’re there by the tube stop in the freezing rain / You caught the bus and I caught the train / All that remains are words in the rain,” while “Albatross” carefully ascends like a more bombastic Coldplay. This lull is still just "the shade of a thunder cloud,” though, as the smooth sailing soon thrusts us over the rocky rapids adorning a sheer cliff-face, leaving us to hold on for dear life.

Unlike the name suggests, “Snake Oil” is the real deal, giving What Went Down its second peak to rival the high-flying opening. Rumbling along before lashing out venomously, “Snake Oil” is an earthquake in a hurricane and it takes hold of you with a most raucous and primal eruption of adrenaline, leaving you longing for that date circled on your calendar when Philippakis can smash it into your face in person. With lyrical moments of classic pop platitude like "You cast a spell that keeps me wired / Keeps me red, keeps me on fire,” it’s not the deepest of sentiments in Foals’ repertoire, but it’s one of the most boldly presented, and with a body like that, who cares?

From “Night Swimmers” superb afrobeat drive to the vaguely twisted-Lorde sway of "London Thunder”’s emotional self-awareness, the sea storm then settles to gently lapping waves with “A Knife In The Ocean”'s rolling takeoff into a restless end.

So what went down? A turntable stylus, a hapless swimmer, and 49 minutes of unadulterated power that never seems heavy handed, valleys that never seem lazy, and, if you’re lucky enough to be there, Philippakis himself as his body leaves the stage and lands on top of you.

What Went Down is available now via Warner Music. You can buy it here.

A Look Back: Uncle Kracker First Asked Us To Follow Him 15 Years Ago

Anyone with ears can attest to the brilliance that is Matthew Shafer’s voice.

Shafer, or Uncle Kracker for you simpletons, was fresh and unknown until that day that will forever be remembered in history, the day on which he released what is now considered the greatest album to ever be heard. June 30th of the year 2000 marked the world’s first impression of Uncle Kracker with the instant classic, Double Wide.

Double Wide peaked at Number 7 on the Billboard Top 200, but will forever be remembered as Number 1 to his musical nieces and nephews. With a lineup consisting of no one that matters other than Kid Rock and our avuncular caucasian hero himself, they slowly rapped/rocked their way into our ears, and straight through to our hearts.

Uncle Kracker's music: so good its soundwaves are visible

Album highlight, “Follow Me,” was my idea of the ideal smooth-talker’s anthem. The song, which has undertones of excessive drug use and cheating on a spouse, was the big hit of the summer and was the first three tracks on my summer 2001 mixtape. Seven-year-old Jonathan learned every single word and would recite them upon request or any time he felt like it.

“Follow me everything is alright,
I’ll be the one to tuck you in at night,
And if you want to leave I can guarantee,
You won’t find nobody else like me.”

Beautiful. Just hearing it now gives me shivers. Cockiness with just the slightest tone of comfort. That is exactly how I wanted Michelle Duncan in my 3rd grade class to feel as I sat her down and stared into her eyes, mouthing along the words to the song. Was she uncomfortable? No, she loved it. Besides, all the weird undertones (or blatant tones) went right over our heads.

We all thought the song was comparable to things like “I Want it That Way” or other classic Backstreet Boys hits like, “I’ll Be the One” or “I Need You Tonight.” We didn’t want to know what types of drugs Kid Rock and Uncle K were lighting up to when they were recording it, all we cared about was that little three minutes and thirty-five seconds we could share while she sat on the swing at recess listening to the song through my portable CD player. (Remember those?) Luckily for her, once the song ended, she got to enjoy it two more times.

Michelle wasn’t the only one that got the “Follow Me” love. Rembold family, remember our American Idol night? Remember how I made it through four rounds singing the same song every time? The reason I get so specific with these examples is because I know everyone shares one thing in life: We all love Uncle Kracker, specifically “Follow Me.” The names and faces are different, but the experiences are universal.

Is he the strongest performer? Absolutely. Do his lyrics imply that he cheated on his wife (who was his childhood sweetheart) while he was probably coked out of his mind? Definitely. Does that mean we can’t enjoy this masterpiece that is the defining song of the 2000s? The biggest no. There isn’t a day that goes by without me humming along to the iconic guitar riff. Dun-dun dun dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun, dun-dun dun dun dun dun dun dun. duun dun. So great.

M. Night Shyamalan Returns to Form in Horror-Comedy 'The Visit'

Academy Award-nominated screenwriter and director M. Night Shyamalan became an overnight phenomenon following the debut of his third feature, The Sixth Sense. To this day, any and all advertisements for his movies will feature the words, “From the writer and director of The Sixth Sense.” Following up on it proved simple for Shyamalan, releasing two more films that received similar acclaim, Unbreakable in 2000 and Signs in 2002, yet in the 13 years that have passed, he has (arguably) not made nor been involved in a single film reaching anywhere near the success of those three. (The Village has its defenders, but I am not one of them).

That is, at least, until now.

Shyamalan’s latest work, The Visit, is a found-footage horror-comedy about two young children who go to meet their estranged grandparents on a weeklong trip. The film starts off in an interview with the Mom (Kathryn Hahn), who has not spoken to her parents in 15 year following a massive falling out due to her relationship with an older man. 10 years later, the man leaves her with their two children, Rebecca (Olivia De Jonge) and Tyler (Ed Oxenbould). Mom has a new boyfriend, and he decides to take her on a cruise, so, after a seemingly spontaneous invitation, the kids decide to make the trip to Nana (Deanna Dunagan) and Pop-pop’s (Peter McRobbie).

But there’s something a little off about grandma and grandpa. No one is allowed in the basement, nor out of their rooms after 9:30 PM. When the kids decide the break curfew, they find that grandma sleepwalks at night and vomits everywhere. She makes strange noises and claws at the walls. When the kids come clean to grandpa, he writes it off as her just being an old lady. 

Unfortunately, grandpa’s not a shining example of normalcy either. One day, taking the kids into town, he gets paranoid and attacks a stranger. The kids call their mother and explain what’s going on. Mom says they’re just old.

Figures.

There’s one scene that stands out among the rest in this movie in terms of both horror and humor and effortlessly blending them. The kids are playing hide and seek in the crawl space beneath the house. We switch between their POVs throughout, and as one is being terrorized, we may cut back to the other, who has no idea what is going on. It’s a great scene that really showcases the directorial skill of Shyamalan. 

The Visit's script is an absolute return to form for Shyamalan, delivering what is easily his best work since The Sixth Sense, complete with fittingly outstanding performances. Oxenbould is especially notable, for giving a believable and hilarious performance, while De Jonge pulls us in as a young aspiring filmmaker who wants to stay ethical and true to her creative vision. Dunagan, however, is the true star of the movie, putting in a captivating, haunting, and profoundly entertaining performance, with McRobbie's character being off-putting throughout, coming up with half-baked explanations for the strange goings-on at the house.

Pay no attention to the trailers for this one. Remember in 2012 when Drew Godard’s horror-comedy masterpiece The Cabin In The Woods was about to be released? Or Adam Wingard’s 2013 You're Next? The trailers we got made it seem as if they were straight-up slasher flicks. Going into the theaters to actually see them proved disappointing for many, as what they ended up getting were dark comedies. This is a very similar situation to the campaign for The Visit. The trailer tries to sell the movie as something that will terrify you, but the truth is you will be laughing a lot more than jumping.

This movie is scary when it’s supposed to be, and it’s funny when it’s supposed to be. The Visit is M. Night Shyamalan’s first step toward a massive comeback. Here’s hoping he can keep it up.

Unknown Mortal Orchestra's "Can't Keep Checking My Phone" Video Is a Rabbit-Hole of Phenomena

Unknown Mortal Orchestra's third album, Multi-Love, is already a standout record this year, and now we have a new music video for its second single, "Can't Keep Checking My Phone," that is sure to be on the year-end lists as well.

A menagerie of unusual afflictions and other peculiar phenomena from Stendhal syndrome to divine intervention, the 4:21 runtime is chock-full of incredibly stimulating imagery with captions inspired by the style of trading card games like Mars Attacks. Directed by Dimitri Basil and Cooper Roussel (with art direction by Laura Gorun and Dominique Basil), it's just the type of thing you would hope to stumble upon in "an internet rabbit-hole researching at four in the morning," as described in UMO's Facebook post.

Put down your phone and click play on this (slightly NSFW) adventure below.

Beach House's 'Depression Cherry' is Velvet Textured Cloud

“There’s a place I want to take you,” beckons Victoria Legrand over gently marching percussion in the appropriately titled opening track, “Levitation.” If you’re a Beach House fan, it’s a place you’ve been many times before, floating just above the atmosphere. 

While the French-American vocalist and guitarist Alex Scally’s fifth album Depression Cherry, like the rest of their dream pop discography, has a direction in mind, it’s at the mercy of its listener, with Legrand cooing, “I’ll go anywhere you want me to” shortly after.

Beach House, like most of their genre, don’t demand. Like dreams themselves, their soundscapes are what you make them. Manipulated within your own head, whether consciously or not, they can fade, ignored into background obscurity, or completely envelop you as you lie entranced on a thick, soft carpet of the ethereal.

Following “Levitation,” Depression Cherry comes back down to Earth with the second song, “Sparks.” An outlier in style, it’s a sort of waking from this dream, jolting the status quo with a fuzzier, harsher edge. This leading single seemed like a sign of something new, but ultimately comes off as a cherry-red herring as the record then relapses back into the sad, comfortable formula Beach House have perfected since their formation in 2004.

While this may be disappointing to those who lament the “same album over and over” approach and were hoping for some diversification, it’s hard to fault a group who has found their niche and carved it so deeply. Descriptors like “dreamy,” wistful,” and “lazy” have become, well, lazy over the years, but lazy is exactly how it all still feels, like a record player stuck on a lower speed. Though that is not meant negatively; this lull deceives those who are quick to write off their sound as boring or indistinct.

That being said, Depression Cherry doesn’t quite scale the sheer heights of the duo’s preceding two records, Bloom or Teen Dream, but largely by fault of Beach House setting the bar so high themselves. While those perfect moments mixed their ephemera with just the right amount of dynamism, Depression Cherry lacks some of that extra punch overall. The subsequent “Space Song," for all it’s echoing of “fall back into place,” does offer it, however, and it soars through the stars with sparkling synth beats in exactly the way an intergalactic swim might sound if the waves could exist in a vacuum at all.

And it’s exactly a vacuum in which Beach House want to exist. In an official statement they explain that the new record is what happened when they "let [them]selves evolve while fully ignoring the commercial context in which [they] exist,” shut away from it all. Even the relatively controlled environments of their own shows apparently dislocated them from their comfort zone, claiming “[T]he growing success... larger stages and bigger rooms naturally drove us towards a louder, more aggressive place; a place farther from our natural tendencies.”

So what was already so simple has become more so. While the red velvet vinyl sleeve reminiscent of Bee Gees’ Odessa adds further texture, even their trend of solid, monochromatic cover art is simplified further, with the minimalist details of Teen Dream’s faint zebra stripes and Bloom’s dots vanquished in favor of pure, unadulterated stasis. At first (and second) listen it’s easy to glaze over the music in a similar way, though give it a chance and out of the homogeny come swirls of beauty. In a particular Beach House-y touch, the duo even handpicked select lyrics to display on their official Sub Pop site, aware of how hard it can be for listeners to distinguish them on their own.

On that same page they describe the record as "a color, a place, a feeling, an energy,” and it's represented literally on the sleeve. Like the seat cushion in that old chair at your grandmother’s, you can brush your fingers along Depression Cherry’s sonic textures one way to make it change shade as the fibers lean, then smooth it back out the other way again. You can spin your fingertip in a spiral, or make stripes, but it’s all still a surface level alteration in a cloud.

"The first thing that I do before I get into your house / I'm gonna tear off all the petals from the rose that's in your mouth,” “Beyond Love" quietly stabs, showing Legrand at her most aggressive. Breathing restless life into the ambient haze she wrestles, "I really wanna know / I really do breathe / We really do breathe / We really wanna know.” 

These lyrical tones juxtaposed amidst the careful caress of the organ and slide guitar could leave a casual listener gliding by, blissfully unaware of the deeper, more forceful current rushing below the surface of gilded waters lapping calmly at his boat, yet that makes their realization all the more powerful. Legrand claws at you from the inside whether you're aware of it or not.

Later on, the spoken word alternating with a fleeting, slowed-down mirroring of John and Yoko’s “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” melody before captivatingly pleading guitar is layered with an angelic chorus makes the curiously named “PPP" a standout moment of not only the LP but their career. In “Bluebird” we find what is likely the only time Legrand will lie to you, as she soothingly misleads, “I would not ever try to capture you,” before “Days of Candy” ends Depression Cherry as fittingly as it began with the sendoff, “I know it comes too soon / The universe is riding off with you."

Whether it takes you where Legrand first longed to end up or not is up to you.

Depression Cherry is out now via Sub Pop. You can enter to win a red velvet poster for free here. You can buy the record here.

Win a Delicious Actual Red Velvet Beach House 'Depression Cherry' Poster

Luscious Baltimore duo Beach House's newest album Depression Cherry is out today via Sub Pop, and we at Transverso are giving away one free, limited edition poster.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL.

It, like the vinyl record, will be made of actual red velvet. Like the kind that you can touch. Finally there is a physical item as smooth as the sounds themselves.

Listen to the album and enter to win below, and read our Depression Cherry review here!

Close-up of the red velvet texture

UPDATE: Congratulations to Raymond Thimmes, the winner of the poster and (surprise) a CD too!

You Should Download the Surprise Mixtape Toro Y Moi Dropped Today

Just a few short months after Chaz Bundick released his last LP What For? in April, the prolific chillwaver better known as Toro Y Moi has surprise-dropped a new mixtape titled Samantha today via a dropbox link in his Instagram.

The 20-track album features collaborations with Rome Fortune, Kool A.D., Nosaj Thing, and fellow South Carolina native, Washed Out, as well as a photo gallery available for download as well.

Samantha

1. Power of Now
2. 2 Late [ft. Kool A.D. and SAFE]
3. Driving Day
4. Good Song
5. Pitch Black [ft. Rome Fortune]
6. Us 2
7. That Night [ft. Kool A.D. and SAFE]
8. Stoned at the MoMA
9. Room for 1zone
10. Want [ft. Washed Out]
11. ambient Rainbow
12. Benjiminz [ft. Rome Fortune]
13. Boo Boo Mobile
14. bytheneck
15. Real Love [ft. Kool A.D.]
16. Enough of You [ft. Nosaj Thing]
17. The Usual
18. Prayer Hands
19. Holy Nights [ft. SHORE]
20. welp, tour's over

The Fratellis Mature With 'Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied'

Like so many bands with outstanding breakout albums, the temptation for fans to use their earliest works as a benchmark for any subsequent albums is huge, and almost impossible to resist. Very few artists start off high and carry on climbing (Arctic Monkeys being a good example), but the majority of bands with breakout debuts, such as The Strokes, Cage the Elephant, and even Nirvana, suffer from a decline in popularity after their follow-up efforts fail to hit the exact heights previously climbed.

The trick with these albums is to listen to them as if they were completely new acts. If you don’t have "Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked" playing in your head, Cage the Elephant’s Melophobia is plain fantastic, while, Nevermind aside, In Utero could be by far and away Nirvana’s best work. It’s this same perspective that you have to take when spinning Glasgow-based rockers The Fratellis' fourth studio album, Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied; it's nowhere near Costello Music, but once you give it a chance, you might find you like it all the same. 

The opening track, "Me and The Devil," is a prime example of how The Fratellis have evolved in the nine years since their smashing debut; it’s much lighter on the guitar and the scratchy, raw vocals that were prevalent in songs such as "Chelsea Dagger" or "Flathead." It’s a more refined sound, and although in previous LPs Here We Stand or We Need Medicine it falls flat, it’s clear that guitarist Jon, bassist Barry, and drummer Mince have gone back to the drawing board this time and come out with a coherent effort to appease their fans. They spent a great deal of time in the United States and it shows, particularly in Bruce Springsteen-inspired "Desperate Guy" and the superstitiously swinging "Dogtown." There are still the some glimpses at nostalgia, though, with callbacks to their first album, most notably in "Rosanna" and "Baby Don’t You Lie To Me!"

That being said, the first half of the album is far better than the second half. À la First Impressions of Earth, it loses momentum quickly, meandering through more nondescript songs with influences that become slightly heavy-handed. All the same, Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied represents a more mature evolution of the band, and is generally a step in the right direction. Costello Music may be long gone, but there's still life left in The Fratellis.