Portland progressive math punkers U Sco have a new LP, Treffpunkt, due on September 23 on New Atlantis Records. Here's "Iguana House," a full-throttle, coal-burning piston of a track that paints the walls with thick, almost sludgy coats of their hardcore-influenced sound, then paints over them again, and again, and again. The result is something so thickly caked on that you couldn't sandblast it off if you tried. But you won't want to—U Sco's dizzying musical athleticism is something exciting to behold. Head over to their Bandcamp for another equally impressive track, the squalling "Tuskflower."
Denver release their second album, the aptly titled Rowdy Love, tomorrow, and the Portland country band plays its release show this Saturday at Mississippi Studios. Here's the ramshackle-but-right "Born to Lose," about hard-drinkin' Johnny. Songwriter Tom Bevitori tells Relix that the song "is about my personal story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde... I chose to call my bad side Johnny. It seemed that even though I could see the destruction I was going to cause, there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."
"The Woman I Deserve" is the latest from Kaylee Rob—the nom de record of Kevin Robinson (Viva Voce, Blue Giant)—and it's a big rock bounce with a wall of lush acoustic guitar strums, a detour of synth espionage, and a colossal funk beat. It's the latest in a prolific series of Kaylee Rob's one-off singles; check out his Bandcamp for more action. Rob is offering all these tunes for pay-what-you-will download, so you can either break the bank, or not even crack open your billfold. His next live shows include a free secret show on Monday, August 4, which will be announced via Twitter (or put on your thinking cap and remember where the cool free Monday shows are happening); a show with Grandaddy's Jason Lytle at the Waypost on Saturday, August 16; and a show on September 27 in Astoria at Fort George Brewing—the homebase of the band Holiday Friends, whose upcoming album Kaylee Rob produced.
Local multi-instrumentalist/composer Peter Broderick recently collaborated with the Album Leaf on a new song; Broderick had contributed violin to the album Perils from the Sea, but the two never actually met, so the Album Leaf's Jimmy LaValle asked Broderick to write a song together. "He came to Los Angeles to record his new record," LaValle says, "and when he was finished, we met for the first time, ate breakfast, went into my studio and wrote and recorded 'Never Held a Baby' in an afternoon."
Here's another firecracker from Zouaves, who—as previously announced—have a splendid new album on the way. "Wear It Thin" is a fierce howler built around guitar riffage and a deliberate beat, before it takes a left turn into a quicker rhythm, then back again. They're playing Thursday, July 24 at the Foggy Notion with Bath Party and Chicago's Quasar Wut-Wut.
Here's "Raygun" from Matthew Heller and the Clever, and it's a burning rocker that'll be on the band's upcoming Tragedy Town EP. This tune finds a nice middle ground between mid-'60s British mod urgency and laidback American roots rock. Heller tells PureVolume, "'Raygun' is about looking forward and backward in life and keeping positive vibes in every type of situation." Matthew Heller and the Clever play this Thursday, July 17, at Ash Street Saloon, on a bill with Ill Lucid Onset and Sungold.
Le Printemps is French-talk for "The Print Temps*" so I guess a band with that name is made up of office guys who do copying and stuff? These fellows also recorded an album at Supernatural Sound Studios, and here's "Is This the End?**"—an easygoing, almost jazzy stroll that burns its steady flame under some grabby pop chops. Le Printemps play this Sunday night (July 20) at Mississippi Pizza's Atlantis Lounge.
* NOTE: End Hits failed first-year French so badly that, during the oral exam, M. Laurent shook his head, slowly exhaled a plume of smoke from his Gitane, and murmured, "Nique ma mere... Il n'y a pas de dieu."
** Coincidentally, after End Hits turned in a book report on Le Petit Nicolas, M. Laurent despondently muttered this phrase as he silently mashed a wad of Camembert into the heel of a crusty baguette.