In Latino circles, this same Juana Molina is best known as the star of “Juana y Sus Hermanas,” an Argentinian sketch comedy TV series. In my circle, she’s famous for delicate, undulating serenades that are both timely and timeless. Talk about range…
Greg Davis
Reluctant beats rinsed in rippling, melancholic guitars — perfect for after hours listening (assuming you’re driving home after getting dumped).
The Poem Adept
Act I: Davy Rothbart’s Found Magazine comes across a discarded demo tape by some ridiculously bad rap outfit called The Ypsilanti All-Starz (an even funnier name if you live in the Detroit area).
Act II: Davy’s brother Jason and his band The Poem Adept cover the All-Starz with a surprisingly earnest coffee house version of “The Booty Don’t Stop.”
Act III: The Poem Adept — who, unfortunately, are at their best when singing about booty — approach their muses for a multi-record songwriting deal, lest they end up next to Dynamite Hack in the history books.
Havergal
Prairie drawl and bug zapper glitches = campfire music for the computer age.
Langhorne Slim
Sly, absurdist bluegrass from the borough of Brooklyn (natch). How can you not smile at a couplet like, “But when she danced/The monkey filled her pants?”
Ralph Carney
The easy explanation: he’s smoking something.
Lambchop
Sunday morning hangover slow with a twang of hopefulness. Beauty that hurts.
Dios
Modern Americana blues from Hawthorne, CA — home of Black Flag and the Beach Boys, though these guys sound more like Grandaddy.
Weevil
Lonely, loping folktronica with a healthy shoegazer sheen.
The Owls
Maria May and Allison LaBonne’s angelic duets herald heartbreak with exquisite simplicity (“there is only air/where I used to care”).