Okay, so this came out four hours ago. It’s a terrible lead single and I can’t see myself returning to it often. HOWEVER, I love Boris. I love their unexpected nature. I love seeing what they do with disparate genres and “Drowning By Numbers” is the first song from the upcoming W and I’m excited at the promise of this album. The single is weird noise, electronic, and ambience. It almost sounds like that grating intro from American Horror Story save for the lush vocals and inherent melody. It’s bizarre and unwieldy, even by Boris’ standards. I can’t wait to hear more. — Xenophanes

After listening to Bloom & Breathe and Parallel Lives back-to-back, it was pure happenstance to discover Gates were releasing new material in late October — so to learn that it might not have even happened was quite a shock. As such, Here and Now is worth celebrating. The band’s lush, ethereal musicianship shows no signs of rust, and the weight behind “When I have to build it all back up, I don’t know where to begin” is significant. — Jom

The departure of a frontperson should, and often does, mark the end for most bands. And yet, despite frontman TJ de Ocampo’s departure, Munimuni continue to put out music. Ocampo’s biggest contribution to the band (besides having written a good deal of their best songs) is his characteristically emo whine, which, for this non-Filipino listener, has shallowly lent credence to the categorisation of the band’s music as ‘makata pop’ (ie, ‘poet pop’). But even without that whine, and even without Ocampo’s songwriting, ‘Bukas Makalawa’ brings the emotion. In its verses, Adj Jiao sings mournfully over sharp flute jabs. In stark contrast, over the chorus, the band ring out a group vocal that is poppy and uplifting whilst never being cloying. It’s a swinging side to side, hand in hand and much too close kind of affair. And it works really, really well. There’s also a flute solo. — BlushfulHippocrene

 

You’d be hard-pressed to find a song as morbid and weirdly triumphant as ‘The Constable’. The nine and a half minute art-pop epic glides in on strained vocals about a man kicking a dog to death, where Haley Dahl confesses “And god, I wanted that dog to be me.” Whether it’s an admission of suicidal thoughts or introspection about her own experience in an abusive relationship is up for debate; but the song continues transforming from elegant piano balladry to regal brass horns, eventually erupting in lines about the apocalypse: “The world is ending, the planet is shaking / Overtaken by the big blue screens.” The whole experience eventually arrives at something of an anti-climax, as Dahl watches the end go down from the comfort of a familiar place – fading to hushed verses and ironic chants of happy new year: “I sat on the doorstep, of the house where you used to live / I couldn’t hear a sound.” It’s a song to end all songs, from an artist who deserves a whole hell of a lot more attention. — Sowing

 

Ever since the unfortunate passing of Aleah Stanbridge, the music of Juha Raivio and, in extension, of Swallow the Sun has carried on with an impossibly heavy melancholic burden that has become the soul of their music. Few bands sound so genuinely heartbroken and devastated as Swallow the Sun and here’s proof. “All Hallows’ Grieve” guests Oceans of Slumber vocalist Cammie Gilbert and all I can say is: hats off to her incredible performance on an already crushingly beautiful song. Words fall short when describing this one, you’ll have to hear it, and be sure to have a pillow close that you can brace yourself to. — Dewinged