Five Songs From February So Far
Words by Jane Lai
Sun June – “Karen O”
Imagine smells of spilled beer after it sets into a shirt, an urgent thirst after a salt-ridden dinner, or being so close you can see someone’s sweat shine on their faces. The chatter between sets ring reminiscent of school cafeterias. Here are some staples of live music. And with a lyrical worksheet as explicit yet sparse as “Karen O,” the tune works as a vehicle towards the day real shows return.
Frontperson Laura Colwell sings about mundane visuals. These are deliberate decisions. Unreturned calls, climbing stairs, or walking across bridges at night are all part of an impromptu script.
I listen to the opening scene repeat a few times: “I saw Karen O live / in a basement in Brooklyn” a line that pauses subtly, leaving room for reimagination. It’s like how gritty basements trap noise; sparingly, and somewhere between an abrupt pop of a pulled cable and the startle of someone’s extra loud laugh. Though none of that matters when Karen O starts singing through the house microphone. Loudness halts and turns into a touchable silence when tapped into a small gap between audience and artist.
Sun June’s album Somewhere is out now via Run for Cover and Keeled Scales.
SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE – “THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN’T DO”
I recently saw a tweet that read SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE was a band that makes you want to step up your game (title-fitting) and that’s exactly right. Their latest work feels like a suspension between ecstasy at the disco and the silence of cooking alone. It’s hard to explain.
The psychedelic rock collective is doing what’s cryptic when a lot of bands aren’t. They’re bringing listeners to a middle ground and using it as an introduction to the genre. Piled with indistinguishable voices and a hovering synth cutting in and out, the track builds and ends with a clean choke out; “I’ll be your friend,” and a burst of relief that dissolves.
SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE’S new album Entertainment, Death is out April 9th via Saddle Creek.
Cassandra Jenkins – “Michelangelo”
“Michelangelo” starts off minimally with guitar and synth. Then bass and drums are invited in. Keys and bass peak through and have their glimmer. But nothing feels overwhelming when there’s room to wait. Delicate movements steady the track to a speed walking whisper.
The track mimics a timeline for an oil painting. A canvas is first sketched with pencil, outlined with sharpie, filled in with solid colors, then left alone for a bit. And repeat. Each layer needs to be dry before applying the next.
The act of drying works hard because a break is part of the process.
Cassandra Jenkins starts with, “I’m a three-legged dog / working with what / I / got / and part of me / will always be / looking / for what I lost” like she’s catching her breath. She ends with “I’m a three-legged dog / working / for what / I’ve / lost.”
Final details are painted with a brush as sharp as the pencil it started with.
Jenkins’ new album An Overview on Phenomenal Nature is out now on Ba Da Bing.
Raavi & the Houseplants – “Major Tool”
“Major Tool” takes off backward. In the form of an inverted triangle, the track is tacked with melting bass lines, chorus pedal breaks, twinkly slows motions, and riffs similar to indie-pop groups Snail Mail or Future Teens.
The songwriting doesn’t distinguish verses from choruses to bridges but rather, it’s shooting one shot and garnering the confidence that it’ll good. Raavi & the Houseplants are queering the rules by moving forward without turning back.
The band doesn’t have a new album planned right now but in the meantime, check out their other work and keep your eyes peeled.
Sadjoy – “Front Seat”
Three summers ago, I saw Sadjoy at a church in Vermont. It was their homecoming show after a New England run. If it wasn’t a church, the room would have felt full. If it wasn’t them on stage, the room would have felt a bit empty. The lights stained everything purple.
When frontperson Michael Schneeweis still played three-piece and went by Michael Jordan Touchdown Pass, I remember sets where their drummer never played the same fills twice. But in recording “Front Seat,” drums are consistent, vocals exude warmth, and instrumentals hug their surroundings. There’s safety without surprise, like how a smooth drive keeps the coffee still.
After the show that night, my friends and I head to the studio loft—a communal space where a lot of artists in town reside. On the top floor, a photographer sets up a station, taking portraits of whoever they can get to pose. A Zoltar filled with packing peanuts sits in the corner. Rent here is cheap, but the real bargain is the community contribution.
Michael comes in a little later. He puts his celebratory flowers on a chair and we head outside to the fire escape to chat. You could see the whole town from there, and the shape of mountains that come to life when morning rolls around.
Sadjoy’s new album Clouds is out on March 13th.
