VMP Magazine

In 2019, Minnesota indie rap mainstay Brother Ali embarked on a 15th anniversary tour in celebration of his second album, Shadows On The Sun. The project has since become a hallmark for underground hip-hop both from the Rhymesayers extended universe and in the genre more generally. But to hear Ali (neé Jason) Douglas Newman tell it, he wasn’t sure whether anyone outside of himself and the project’s producer, Atmosphere’s Ant, would ever hear it. Speaking about the recording process in a reflective interview with Wordplay Magazine, Ali said, “When I made that album, I hadn’t been on tour yet. I really didn’t know if anyone would ever hear it.” The low-pressure environment regarding the album was freeing for Ali, who turned in an indie rap masterpiece, one that remains a sterling opus in his impressive discography. 

In 1965, Muhal Richard Abrams, Jodie Christian, Steve McCall, and Phil Cohran were threatened — and rightfully so — by the impending tidal wave of rock music. To fortify against this intrusion (and re-solidify community ties through artistic expression), the four jazz musicians, all born and bred in Chicago, founded the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, a Black Mountain College aimed at cultivating progressive jazz, located in the heart of Chicago instead of the hills of Asheville, North Carolina. While the group never stopped the locomotive that was rock ’n’ roll, they sure as hell helped produce some outsized jazz talent, providing a platform for innovation and experimentation that’s seeped its way into every facet of modern jazz, and, with the current trend of homogenizing styles, most other genres as well.

You may not know Max Richter, but odds are you know his work. The neoclassical composer is most well known for his contribution to film and television scoring, creating the music for HBO’s The Leftovers, Christian Bale’s newest film, Hostiles, Jessica Chastain’s 2016 thriller, Miss Sloane, and many, many more. While Richter’s work in film and television is outstanding, his work as an experimental composer, bringing a theoretical and philosophical bent to emotion-laden music, is perhaps his most interesting musical iteration.

Photo by Jacob Boll

When COVID hit, Meg Duffy had been on the road, both with their band, Hand Habits, and as a touring member for groups like Sylvan Esso and Kevin Morby. There wasn’t time to stop and think, “Do I like touring for months on end?” The answer, it turns out, was no, and so by the time they finished their stellar new album, Fun House, the looming specter of touring brought a bevy of mixed emotions.

Duffy was able to realistically evaluate their relationship to touring, and, as they explained in an interview with VMP, “I will never do another six-week long tour. I just know that I can't do that anymore for my physical and mental health.”

DJ Abilities has spent the 20 years since the release of his seminal collaboration with Eyedea, First Born, simultaneously honoring its legacy and trying to move forward. While Abilities, born Gregory Keltgen, rose to prominence in the Minnesota rap scene with Eyedea, he’s been living outside of the state for 15 years, and hasn’t helmed a rap LP since Eyedea & Abilities released By The Throat in 2009, just a year before Eyedea passed away. The MC born Michael Larsen, died tragically in 2010, at the age of 28.

It’s impossible to view First Born, or much of Abilities’ career, through a lens outside of what Eyedea brought to the Minneapolis rap community, but in re-examining the duo’s legacy, Abilities’ work as a producer and DJ has only grown. Despite his relative quiet output over the last decade, Abilities has stayed busy behind the scenes: “A lot of people might think I stopped or got a different job because I seemingly haven't really done much, but on the contrary, I've been doing huge amounts of music.”

There are worse gigs to have than as Barack Obama’s opening act. This is the role the National filled in late 2007, when the future 44th president of our country used “Mr. November” at campaign stops. The Cincinnati-born, New York-based five piece had emerged as a band with far more eyes on them than their popularity would suggest. The group was building off the hype of their seminal breakthrough, Boxer, and they were morphing from a critically acclaimed indie act to a worldwide phenomenon. The steady build from 2007 to 2010 found the group accruing a significant number of fans, to such an extreme that by the time they released High Violet in 2010, the album debuted at No. 3 on the Billboard charts and the band premiered “Terrible Love” on the Jimmy Fallon Show.

Kevin Morby has been thinking about God. If you’re a fan of the Kansas City-raised songwriter, you’re probably already aware of this. On his first four solo LPs, Morby has riddled his lyrics with allusions and questions, never quite discovering what sort of universal presence he’s engaging with. On his latest album, Oh My God, Morby presents the logical conclusion of this investigation. Not only it is his deepest dive into a metaphysical pulse, but it’s also his most stunning and brilliant record. With Oh My God, Morby swings for the fences with abandon and excitement.

Matthew Houck moved to Nashville a few years ago, but he still has no idea what the city’s like. He’s been too busy to hit Music Row, catch a Preds game or do much of anything, really. After trading Brooklyn for Tennessee’s music capital, Houck got married, had two kids and built a studio in an old warehouse that took far longer than he anticipated. In his wife’s eyes, this was a subconscious delay tactic: You can’t make a record if you have nowhere to record it. So when Houck finally got around to piecing together C’est La Vie, his first album since Phosphorescent’s 2013 breakout, Muchacho, the pressure was palpable.

No one makes music like Matthew Dear, which is a fact the Ann Arbor-based musician has wholeheartedly embraced. “I make music strictly for people who like my music,” he Tweeted back in May, and his forthcoming Bunny is another notch proving as such. The album fits perfectly within the songwriter/DJ/lecturer’s discography, which is silky, deranged and darkly humorous, the aural equivalent of a murderous clown.

This week, we’re releasing a limited edition version of Trevor Powers’ new album, Mulberry Violence. You can grab that here. Below, read our interview with the former Youth Lagoon, who was featured in Vinyl Me, Please Essentials way back in January of 2015.

Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with. This week's album is 7, the appropriately titled seventh LP from Beach House.

To focus on one aspect of John Cale’s career is to deprive yourself of many joys. Love his work with Velvet Underground? His solo pop records may just be better. Diving into one of his many live albums? His early experimental work is definitely of fascination, too. John Cale is one of those singular artists left so unsatisfied by the mundanity of limits that he creates a world in which they no longer exist.

Lee Hazlewood is much more than a great moustache and the occasional Nancy Sinatra collaborator. In 1966, Hazlewood wrote and produced the (lady) Sinatra classic, “These Boots are Made for Walking.” He spent most of his career playing off the notoriety of this song, lingering in the shadows and writing country pop songs as catchy as anything on the radio. Still, fame often eluded the singer in a way it eludes many behind-the-scenes songwriters. But Hazlewood had no intention of ever staying behind the scenes. He was a rather prolific songwriter, releasing 18 records from 1963-1973. Not all of these albums are great — in fact, much of his best work came after this period of constant production — but Cowboy in Sweden (1970) is perhaps his best recording — and is out via a reissue by Light in the Attic — and Nancy & Lee is filled with fun covers and sultry originals.

Some time after Hazlewood died in 2007— his last album, released in 2006, was titled Cake or Death — Light in the Attic began excavating his best albums and re-issuing them for wide consumption. The label dove into his work with LHI Industries — a label he founded to release both his own music and the work of others. On November 25th, the label will be re-releasing Cowboy in Sweden, an album that has deserved proper release and reception since its inception. Hazlewood’s impact on modern music — both country and pop — has been immeasurable. His psychedelic tendencies slip into the cracks of Tame Impala’s backwards looking time warp, while his country delivery finds itself in the work of Sturgill Simpson. His vast discography can be tough to crack, so here are 10 Hazlewood albums worth checking out immediately.

Aaron Lee Tasjan is the nice guy of rock ’n’ roll. As a hired-hand guitarist and in his own right as a solo artist, Tasjan has spent years in the scene, accruing stories of doing mushrooms with Bono and being told by Jimmy Iovine that dudes in make-up don’t sell records. He’s seen the ugliest sides of the industry, and yet, as he leaves his day job as an axman for artists like New York Dolls, or his old band Semi Precious Weapons, he’s retained his unbridled cheer and desire to bring goodness to a notoriously toxic industry. “I just really want to make people happy and I want people to be joyous and to be good to each other,” he explains to VMP.

On his new album, Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan!, the singer-songwriter (and now producer) taps into a glamorous side of his artistry, layering his catchy songwriting in ’70s sheen and ’60s psychedelia on songs like opener “Sunday Women” and “Cartoon Music.” It’s often easy to tell when an artist has made a leap, and this isn’t to imply that Tasjan’s earlier solo forays like Karma For Cheap aren’t excellent, but Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan! is a staggering thesis from the Ohio-raised artist.

Now based in Nashville, Tasjan created this new LP behind his label’s back after they (rightfully, by his own admission) balked at his desire to self-produce this new album. After he turned in a few songs that they liked, they allowed him to continue, and alongside Greg Latimer, Tasjan has turned in one of the most exciting albums of the new year. Alongside tales of mistaken Twitter feuds with Peter Frampton and stories about being broke on the road, Tasjan spelled out his life philosophy and approach to songwriting. Though he’s been broken and bruised in his lifetime of music, he’s never let that get in the way of an unendingly optimistic approach to music. “I think if you're patient, pain can turn into beautiful and positive things in your life,” he says. Tasjan! Tasjan! Tasjan! proves as much.

Aaron Frazer’s a soul musician, but he’s on a quest to convince you he’s much more, too. The Brooklyn-based, Baltimore-born drummer and songwriter got his rise on the skins and on the mic with Durand Jones & the Indications, but a break in his schedule and a fortuitous phone call from Dan Auerbach led to his debut solo album, out January 8 via Dead Oceans and Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound imprint. Frazer’s been collecting voice memos and melodic ideas for a few years now, and because not everything was a fit for his work with the Indications, these scraps were creating a pile-up of creativity with no outlet to pursue these ideas further. Then, Auerbach randomly called, and offered Frazer the chance to make a record together. Frazer jumped at the chance, and the two fleshed out what is now Introducing... over the course of a four-day marathon writing session.

While Frazer’s work with the Indications explores a path and follows it to its logical conclusion, on Introducing... he wanted to prove that his soul roots expand out toward pop, blues, and hip-hop. Describing his thinking for the record, Frazer explained, “‘I'm going to put ’90s R&B on the same record as horn stabby, MPC style hip-hop, but I’m also gonna put country gospel on there.’ There's a little bit of extra room to stretch out.” The hip-hop aesthetics come from Frazer’s Baltimore roots, with car drives accompanied by 92Q, and on tracks like “Can’t Leave it Alone,” the half-time drum beat and punctured horn line recalls the boom-bap roots of rap. Auerbach lends a crisp ear with his production, giving the entire thing a glossy feel, while still retaining a rough edge that Frazer’s voice lends so well to the music. Introducing... is clearly rooted in soul melodies and groove-based playing, but throughout the album, he proves that his mission expands far outside the scope of any box he’s placed in.

The landscape of indie rock is virtually unrecognizable from where it was when the Los Angeles group Local Natives broke through a decade ago. The band, which is almost completely intact from when they first formed (bassist Andy Hamm departed the group after their debut, Gorilla Manor), utilized a buzzing blogosphere and independent radio to build a following in Los Angeles. Early residencies at the Echo and the now-closed Spaceland proved a perfect forum for the group to display their finely tuned live show. They spent their early days touring relentlessly, building a reputation as a live band before releasing music ― a concept that seems impossible today. Following in the footsteps of groups like Animal Collective, Fleet Foxes and Grizzly Bear, Local Natives become a West Coast emblem for a new generation of indie music. Gorilla Manor was a lightning rod album, attracting a devoted following but inviting backlash from a critical apparatus already looking for the next wave of talent.

David Gray wants to be remembered for more than White Ladder, though he’s now more appreciative of its immense success than he’s ever been. “It’s taken me 51 years, but I’ve finally started to loosen up,” he explains to Vinyl Me, Please with a chuckle. White Ladder begot a particular strand of U.K. singer-songwriters, creating a scene in which Gray was a predecessor for modern pop stars like James Blunt―a trend in songwriting he begrudged for many years. Perhaps he’s lightened up with age, success, or because of his responsibilities as a father, but White Ladder no longer signifies a complex range of provocations for Gray. He’s able to bask in its success more easily now, especially on the heels of the seminal album’s 20th anniversary.

“It was an overwhelming, tumultuous period where I sort of shrank back into my shell. I didn't relish the world of fame and success and it wasn't something that I thought had any merit on its own terms,” he says. His changing perspective has less to do with a specific moment than the way time softens all edges. David Gray still carries a fire, but he uses it to light his world, not burn down the house that built “Babylon” and a lifetime's worth of success. After White Ladder’s 20th year of circulation, we caught up with the man behind a defining era of British pop music to discuss his forthcoming tour, the meteoric success following White Ladder, and the hiccups of celebrity. Whereas this sort of celebration would have been something a younger David Gray might have shied away from, the 51-year-old songwriter is happy to indulge at this point in time. “I really hope it does get through to some new listeners,” he says. “I’m always excited to find new ears out there.”

How many jazz melodies can you sing without consulting the music beforehand? There’s John Coltrane’s rendition of “My Favorite Things,” there’s Miles Davis’ “So What,” and there’s Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five.” These have been force fed to us for generations as the gold standards of melodic jazz. While Davis and Coltrane are the absolute pillars of jazz — as both unofficial originators and a gold standard to which all current players will be held against — Brubeck has always had a more mysterious relation to the modern canon.

Sam Shepherd has been a bit depressed. You may hear it in his new album as Floating Points, Crush, out this Friday via Ninja Tune. It’s a subtle melancholy, but it’s there. It’s the sort of sadness that leaves you checking the news everyday for some solace, only to be crushed by our collective further descent into madness. On an early Texas morning, he speaks to Vinyl Me, Please from England, where he’s preparing for Crush and all of the promotional and touring logistics that come with putting out a new LP. “The fear I have is through a growing sense of the loss of truth,” he explains. “Truth seems to be completely irrelevant today as a currency. I spent a lot of my academic life seeking the truth. To see that become valueless is incredibly worrying,” he adds.

Meg Duffy’s Hand Habits project is a clash between the personal and the observational. A self-described gatherer, Duffy has quickly become a mesmerizing voice in indie-folk because of their keen sketches of relationships both intimate and out-of-focus.

Duffy wrote most of the music for their stunning and stellar debut LP, Wildly Idle (Humble Before the Void), in their hometown in Upstate New York. Shortly after, they moved to Los Angeles and began anew 3,000 miles away. But as they tell us, with a life on the road, home is never as defined as it’s portrayed. This is reflected in Hand Habits’ second LP, placeholder, which is out this week, and is available from Vinyl Me, Please here. The people change, the stories, too, but the narrator remains constant.

The typical DJ Koze record scans like a poorly organized record store. Techno is found in the same section as ‘70s soul, while krautrock and dub are across the store sandwiched between obscure soundtrack records. But this cacophony of sound has never been Koze’s downfall, rather, it’s where he shines the brightest. DJ Koze is a collagist in a well, Koze-like interpretation of the word. It’s not as if his music is made up of disparate parts that only fit together as a whole, rather, these are parts that should fit together, that always have, yet no one was able to see them from such an angle until Koze came along.

knock knock is another entry into his funhouse mirror of a discography. It’s both definitely Koze’s koziest record, and the most indebted to those he collaborates with: Bon Iver, José González, Sophia Kennedy, and more. Everything you need to know about the record is right there on album opener “Club der Ewigkeiten.” A spooky sample seemingly from an old Halloween soundtrack is bolstered by pummeling bass hits straight from a trap beat, before a talkbox laced vocal part enters the conversation. Moments later: the talkbox morphs into a beefy cello, which in turn becomes a flute accompanied by an old school hip-hop snare knock. The picture is clear: nothing is off limits for DJ Koze’s knock knock, and the album is only a minute old. He balances this act with seasoned professionalism over the record’s sixteen tracks, never wavering from the kooky, deliriously fun style Koze has spent his career pioneering. knock knock is another affirmation of this mission, but, because it’s DJ Koze, it somehow sounds like nothing previously imaginable and everything all at once.

King Tuff and Kyle Thomas aren’t the same person. Or, perhaps more accurately, the vision of King Tuff that Kyle Thomas slowly saw himself becoming wasn’t true; it was a trap, a persona taken too far, an inescapable direction that slowly sucked the joy out of what Thomas originally began King Tuff to do, which is—and has always been—all about making kick ass rock music.

So, in the fall of 2016, Thomas did the least King Tuff thing imaginable: He played acoustic shows. Never has distortion longed for its former partner more than when Thomas decided to strum without amplification. The shows were, by his own admission, terrifying, but Thomas realized that a great song on an acoustic guitar had lasting power. The supporting pieces could be shifted and turned, dirtied or cleaned up, but at the root was simply a good song.

Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with. This week's album is New Material, the new album from Preoccupations.

Sean Solomon, Pascal Stevenson and Andrew MacKelvie have been making music together for over a decade. As teenagers, they traversed the DIY L.A. punk scene in the band Moses Campbell. Looking to bands like No Age, the Mae Shi, Abe Vigoda and many more for career inspiration, the trio—along with two other members—crafted a devoted following while still in high school. The wear and tear of keeping the project afloat eventually led to the band breaking up, and it wasn’t long after the dissolvement that Solomon approached Stevenson and MacKelvie to play bass and drums in his new project.

Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with. This week’s album is The House, the new album from Porches.

Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with. This week's album is ken, the new album from Destroyer.

Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with. This week's album is A Deeper Understanding, the fourth album from War on Drugs.

We’re excited to announce a Vinyl Me, Please exclusive reissue of A Sunny Day In Glasgow’s landmark 2009 album, Ashes Grammar, which came out originally with only 200 vinyl copies. You can buy the album here, and read this interview with Ben Daniels from the band about the making of the album.

Back in 2023 when Cash Bently dropped his brilliant full-length debut, Cash Corridos 3, he reflected on the journey it took to get there in an inte...