On their self-titled debut the Calgary post-punks don't offer a second coming of their old band. But in its place: a revival.
Tristan Bath's London-based drone project challenges, soothes, and strikes harmonies you didn't know you had.
The Toronto group think outside the Metal Box, and perform a musical archaeology in service of self-discovery.
The globetrotting Swedish psych band's second album is an aesthetic marvel, but it might take some tricky mental gymnastics to get past their appropriation.
Get their joyfully unsettled sound in your world.
The most compulsively listenable doom you'll hear all week.
But don't fret, the South London sleazeballs' debut is getting a reissue and scads more attention courtesy of Fat Possum.
The Toronto punk all stars release a pair of caustic, breakneck EPs that make us worry for a generation.
It's the beginning of the end for Toronto's soul son.
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