HOZIER
Wasteland, Baby! (Rubyworks/Sony)
Though it never quite lives up to the
idiosyncratic opulence of his 2014
debut, Hozier takes us on a ravishing
journey through the blues on
Wasteland, Baby! There’s no doubting
the Irishman’s infectious radiance—
especially on numbers such as Almost
and To Noise-Making, where we meet
an exceptionally buoyant and silvery
version of him. Then there’s the
Hozier on Be and Nina Cried Power, who sings like he means it and
digs into his guitar like it had just insulted his mum. And the Hozier
who’s totally seen some dark shit in his time, who pops up on tracks
such as the hazy Dinner & Diatribes. They’re all masks we’ve seen
Hozier wear many times in the past, but we can’t argue the fact
that he wears them well again here. Matt Doria
BEC STEVENS
Why Don’t You Just (Hobbledehoy)
The second EP from Melbourne
indie-rock trailblazer Bec Stevens is
decidedly raw—twangy, spacious
strumming, papery drums and
warbling strings build sparse and
smoky soundscapes for Stevens to
howl over, which she does with wild
might. She makes 26 minutes feel like
five, and captures the essence of her
goosebump-inducing live show with
such dazzling veracity that if we crank our headphones loud enough
and squint reeeeeally hard, we can almost see ourselves there.
Comparisons to acts such as Camp Cope and Beach Bunny are fair,
but there’s a tonal eccentricity to Why Don’t You Just that is entirely
Stevens’ own. It’s a strikingly sensitive, peak-and-valley charisma
that we simply can’t get enough. Matt Doria
PUP
Morbid Stuff (Little Dipper/Cooking Vinyl)Without sacrificing a single decibel of
their trademark volcanic loudness, the
Canadian crunch-pop troupe balloon
their scope on LP3 to bare a ferociously
tight, deliberate and dynamic body
of work. Defying all laws of musical
physics, PUP’s chorus game is even
stronger the third time around, and
their hooks are so huge that listening
to Morbid Stuff in the car might not
be too great an idea—the sudden, uncontrollable urge to mosh strikes
often... and hard. There’s plenty to look forward to on the LP: the
chunks of gruff Metallican thrash on Full Blown Meltdown and the
progression from low-key slow-burner toall-outchaosonCity are our
favourites, but we get the feeling this’ll bea recordwhereeveryone
finds their own little quirks to fawn over. Matt DoriaDEAR SEATTLE
Don’t Let Go (Domestic La La)We didn’t think it was possible, but
Dear Seattle have figured out a way
to translate the feeling of cracking
open a cold beer on a Saturday arvo
into music. Don’t Let Go is pillared
on wall-shaking guitars and thick,
booking vocals that demand you
sing along. Brae Fisher and Lachlan
Simpson are jaw-droppingly proficient
behind their frets, channelling classic
Kisschasy and Bodyjar vibes with their palmy shredding and mosh-
ready hooks. But ultimately, Don’t Let Go sounds like its own beast
of dry Australiana and pummelling pop-punk—one we see ourselves
jamming for a long time to come. It’s not a reinvention of the
wheel, but that’s not what Dear Seattle were going for—this is, first
and foremost, just an incredibly fun album. Sarah ComeyTHE SMASHING PUMPKINS
No Past. No Future. No Sun. (Napalm/Warner)
Billy Corgan’s wishes have finally been
granted: The Smashing Pumpkins (as
in, the actual Smashing Pumpkins, not
the bastardised rehash Corgan whipped
up in ’06) have reunited... well, mostly.
The first chapter of their Shiny and Oh
So Bright saga, NPNFNS is a bright,
booming and buoyant—if somewhat
understated at times—masterclass
in how to make a comeback. It feels
nostalgic but never dated, the dustiness of the Pumpkins’ shed-set
origins peeping through from behind a notably modern set of sounds.
Cuts such as Marchin’ On and Solara bubble and brew with a youthful
fury, guitars pounding and powerful and decently furry. Iha’s noodly,
introspective fretwork is on show as he doles out dazzling chunks of
crystalline riffery both under four and six strings: he steals the show
almost everywhere on this album. Matt Doria
ALEX LAHEY
The Best of Luck Club (Nicky Boy/Caroline)The Tele-wielding Melbournite delivers
sharp, from-the-hip ruminations on
love, hate, and the perils of wrangling
with an anxious mind that loves a fight.
It’s an unflinching torrent of angular
fearlessness and polarising honesty,
by way of some enthrallingly strong
musicality. Lahe bares her heart on the
bouncy Isabella and ballroom-ready
I Want To Live With You, and leaps into
the abyss on cuts such as Misery Guts
and Black RMs—the former a callous and coarse explosion of craggily
riffs and punkish yells, and the latter a smoky, slow-burning love song.
This is more than just a new album for Alex Lahey: it’s a career-defining
statement of her monumental growth and progression both as a
musician and as a powerful woman. Massively punchy and consistently
magical, it’s an easy contender for 2019’s Album of the Year. Matt DoriaTOP PICKS by Matt Doria and Sarah Comey
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