Music being a cyclical affair isn’t news, exactly. When I attended middle school in the early ’90s, fashion and tunes from the ’60s were infiltrating the airwaves, even as PNW grunge groups waged their own musical war with the dregs of hair metal in the underground. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a total mindscrew to see the era from which I was artistically and culturally reared come back around and apply a stranglehold of cardigans, baggy jeans, bleached hair, and even wired headphones with such verve. Moving forward means digging into the past, as imprudent as that seems. And while I have on some occasions defended the legitimacy of certain sounds or railed against the manufactured airs of revivalist upticks, the truth is that the whole thing is strangely comforting. Who heard it first is about as tired a debate as there could possibly be in music. All art is a conduit for human feeling—a gift-wrapping for the emotions we all attempt to articulate. 

Besides, a lot of new music I’m hearing sounds really fucking good. Familiar, even when it’s shredding the old paradigms. Each album of this edition of Spin Cycle scratches the itch of my personal vintage. Let’s hope they scratch yours, too.

There Is No Evil – How Strange It Is 

For fans of Jason Lytle, Built to Spill, And And And

Portland-based quintet How Strange It Is return for their second full-length, There Is No Evil, a freewheeling exposition of skewed rock meditations that run a wide, satisfying gamut of sounds. 

Fronted by guitarist/vocalist Jordan Krinsky, There Is No Evil plays like a mixtape of lo-fi classics, stretching its legs with melodic, disjointed slabs of guitar rock, shoegaze vibers, and the sort of playful, observant songwriting that made indie giants like Built to Spill’s Doug Martsch household names. Songs come screaming from all angles, sinking their teeth into spidery sonic alcoves that raise a stoic middle finger to the rigidity of categorization. 

Following the audio collage of “EVL,” the first proper song on the LP, “Slime,” teases a heavy metal onslaught before downshifting to a more melodic, guitar-forward rocker that nods to Krinsky’s brooding, existentialist lyrics. 

Ever the headphone album, the LP comes full of affecting harmonies and loads of guitar trickery. The drum machine slow-burn of “Tough Luck” arrives with warm keys, lullaby vox, and an emphasis on place and purpose. Standout track “Venus in the 12th House” bullseyes the band’s varied foci, pitting Sonic Youth squalls and no-wave rhythmic thrusts through a funhouse melodic experiment. 

For every raw post-punk rocker, there exists a contrasting introspective cut, the most satisfying being the gorgeously frayed track “DAWS/National Razor,” a multi-layered song with trumpets, guitars that sound like they’re actively melting, and a slide guitar solo. Heavy use of tremolo adds world-bending warbles to the entire album, giving There Is No Evil a distinct sense of malevolence even when its songs appear to be rebounding from the brink. 

The end result is a dispatch from the outer realms of experimental-pop from a band that you should keep tabs on. 

There Is No Evil is set for release on October 20 through Disposable America/Pleasure Tapes. Vinyl, cassettes, and CDs can be pre-ordered at the How Strange It Is Bandcamp. The band celebrates with an official album release show October 22 at Show Bar with support from Femme Cell and Icecaps. Visit the Show Bar website for more info.

Be the Divine – Split Silk 

For fans of L7, Dry Socket, Atomic Prey

Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: You lament the disconnect between the natural world and the dominion of contemporary culture. You tend to the flame of an inner-rage for the handcuffs of technology. You aren’t buying the predominant hallmarks of social and cultural normalcy. If this is your steez, Atlanta’s Split Silk ought to basically be your Beatles. Fronted by Lucca Cassandra Carver, the post-hardcore trio extends a sincere olive branch to proto-punk feminist songwriters with teeth like Lydia Lunch, but with a distinct eye toward fuck-it-all scream-punk. 

Hidden within a deluge of pissed-off hardcore gems, Split Silk cribs an earnest melodicism that seems at odds with Carver’s copious screeches. The grunge-y opener “Divine” explodes with a fuzzed-out rhythmic barrage from bassist Lucía Alejandra Carreño and drummer Will Morris. A tightly wound foundation between the three persists across Be the Divine, ebbing and flowing through a moody suite of songs that sound hopeful even when they’re delivered via full-throated wails. 

The intro of “Rhea” rips through the lingering malaise of “Mess,” a fierce animal of a track that announces itself angrily and devoid of the ragged thrash-pop songwriting that Carver’s earlier recordings hinted at. Instead, tracks like “Digital Cold” contain abstract lyrics like “Not uncertain, tangled in the web / Maladaptive, just another kid / Burning bridges, faults of modern love / Feel the voice and the shivering touch.” This song in particular is delivered in a less brutal timbre, Carver’s vocals approaching something like singing as feedback squalls coil along the edges. 

Shades of Unwound color “Orchard Garden,” where Carver’s guitar is splintered through angry distortion and a chopped-up percussive jolt. Similarly, on the propulsive finale “Excess,” the trio pits its aggressions through a dynamic post-hardcore downer, closing the book on an excellent, ear-ringing listen. 

Be the Divine dropped September 18 via Skeletal Lightning. You can purchase the digital album or a limited edition CD through Split Silk’s Bandcamp. 

Bestiaria – Karen y los Remedios 

For fans of Orquestra Pacifico Tropical, Los Corraleros, Portishead

Genre-blurring Mexico City-based cumbia stalwarts Karen y Los Remedios return with their new album, Bestiaria, a collection pulsing with experimental, poetic, and artistic liberties to tickle your dark-core proclivities.

Opening track “Curandera” introduces the album’s melancholic twist on traditional cumbia, injecting ancestral wisdoms and modes of healing through enchanting blasts of tropicália and Ana Karen González Barajas’ mesmerizing lullabies. Her existentialist takes on cumbia come sprinkled with learned experiences as a PhD student in social and behavioral health. That sense of multidisciplinary attention is slathered all over Bestiaria, with the trio hell-bent on lulling you into soporific stupors that somehow also encourage your whole body to wiggle. 

“Espejismos” emerges as a haunted hip-hop/cumbia hybrid guided by witchy spirits through blown-out bass, a John Carpenter-adjacent melody, and all the hallmarks of a salsa jammer were it being played during the final scene of a Freddy flick. The spooky turns persist on “Creación del Universo,” a track that breaks free from the cumbia tempo up to a more pop-oriented cadence, incorporating jangly guitars and blippy keys, but still retaining the dark thread through which the album entombs itself. Later, “Ninfa” ushers the vibe to more trip-hoppy environs, folding in mythological sidebars around river nymphs, continuing to follow female figures across various cultures and traditions.

Standout single “Satanás” is a cover of a cumbia cult classic originally written by Publio Martínez, with chilling rhythms accompanied by rubbery keys that echo slasher-film scores. Buoyed by Barajas’ bewitching vocals, the song slithers its way through demonic peaks and valleys, leaning into the lighter side of theology. The song is augmented by flourishes of theremin, shakers, and an overriding nightmarish patina perfect for the impending Halloween season.

Bestiaria was released October 9 through ZZK Records. You can purchase the digital album and vinyl through the Karen y Los Remedios Bandcamp.