Sub Pop Rock & Indie 214 Items

Since the band's inception in 1992, Built to Spill founder Doug Martsch intended his beloved band to be a collaborative project, an ever-evolving group of musicians making music and playing live together. "I wanted to switch the lineup for many reasons. Each time we finish a record I want the next one to sound totally different. It's fun to play with people who bring in new styles and ideas," says Martsch. "And it's nice to be in a band with people who aren't sick of me yet." Following several albums and EPs on Pacific Northwest independent labels, including the indie-rock classic, There's Nothing Wrong With Love, released on Sub Pop offshoot Up Records in 1994, Martsch signed with Warner Brothers from 1995 to 2016. He and his rotating cast of cohorts recorded six more great albums during that time - Perfect From Now On, Keep It Like a Secret, Ancient Melodies of the Future, You In Reverse, Untethered Moon, There Is No Enemy. There was also a live album, and a solo record, Now You Know. While the band's impeccable recorded catalog is the entry point, Built to Spill live is an essential force of its own: heavy, psychedelic, melodic, and visceral tunes blaring from amps that sound as if they're powered by Mack trucks. Now in 2022, Built to Spill returns with When the Wind Forgets Your Name, Martsch's unbelievably great new album (and his eighth full-length)... with a fresh new label. "I'm psyched: I've wanted to be on Sub Pop since I was a teenager. And I think I'm the first fifty year-old they've ever signed." (The rumors are true, we love quinquagenarians_) When the Wind Forgets Your Name continues expanding the Built to Spill universe in new and exciting ways. In 2018 Martsch's good fortune and keen intuition brought him together with Brazilian lo-fi punk artist and producer Le Almeida, and his long-time collaborator, Joao Casaes, both of the psychedelic jazz rock band, Orua. Martsch fell in love with their music the moment he heard it. So when he needed a new band for shows in Brazil, he asked them, and the partnership went so well Martsch, Almeida, and Casaes continued playing together throughout 2019, touring the US and Europe and ultimately recording the bass and drum tracks for When the Wind Forgets Your Name at Doug's rehearsal space in Boise. After Martsch tracked guitars and vocals, they group collaborated from afar to mix the album. What emerged is When the Wind Forgets Your Name, a complex and cohesive blend of the artists' distinct musical ideas. Alongside Built to Spill's poetic lyrics and themes, the experimentation and attention to detail produces an album full of unique, vivid, and timeless sounds, from guitar-driven rock odes to REM and Dinosaur Jr to bluesy '60s-style anthems to dub-reggae-inspired instrumentation. It may have taken us 30 years of obvious fandom and courtship, but on September 9, 2022, Sub Pop Records is unabashedly proud to finally release an excellent new album from Built to Spill: When the Wind Forgets Your Name. Sometimes persistence pays off.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Limited Indies Loser Edition pressed on Yellow Vinyl. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever return in 2022 with Endless Rooms, the Melbourne quintet's third album proper. Described by the band - comprised of Fran Keaney, Joe White, Marcel Tussie and brothers Tom Russo and Joe Russo - as them "Doing what we do best: chasing down songs in a room together", Endless Rooms stands as a testament to the collaborative spirit and live power of Rbcf. While initial ideas were traded online during long spells spent separated by lockdowns, the album was truly born during small windows of freedom in which the band would decamp to a mud-brick house in the bush around 2hrs north of Melbourne built by the extended Russo family in the 1970s. There, its 12 tracks took shape, informed to such an extent by the acoustics and ambience of the rambling lakeside house that they decided to record the album there. The house also features on the album cover. For the first time, the band self-produced the record (alongside engineer, collaborator and old friend, Matt Duffy), creating their most naturalistic and expansive document yet. The result is a collection of songs permeated by the spirit of the place; punctuated by field recordings of rain, fire, birds, and wind. "It's almost an anti-concept album," say the band. "The 'endless rooms' of the title reflects our love of creating worlds in our songs. We treat each of them as a bare room to be built up with infinite possibilities."

Nowadays, voice memos, videos, and pictures chronicle our lives in real-time. We trace where we've been and reveal where we're going. However, Suki Waterhouse catalogs the most intimate, formative, and significant moments of her life through songs. You might recognize her name or her work as singer, songwriter, actress but you'll really get to know the multi-faceted artist through her music. Memories of unrequited love, fits of longing, instances of anxiety, and unfiltered snapshots interlock like puzzle pieces into a mosaic of well-worn country, '90s-style alternative, and unassuming pop. She writes the kind of tunes meant to be grafted onto dusty old vinyl from your favorite vintage record store, yet perfect for a sun-soaked festival stage. Her first album for Sub Pop, I Can't Let Go, is a testament to her powers as a singer and songwriter. In Suki's words: "The album is called I Can't Let Go because for years it felt like I was wearing heavy moments on my sleeve and it just didn't make sense to do so anymore. There's so much that I've never spoken about. Writing music has always been where it felt safe to do so. Every song for the record was a necessity. In many ways, I've been observing my life as an outsider, even when I've been on the inside. It's like I was a visitor watching things happen." Growing up in London, Suki gravitated towards music's magnetic pull. She listened to the likes of Alanis Morissette and Fiona Apple, and Oasis held a special place in her heart. She initially teased out this facet of her creativity with a series of singles, generating nearly 20 million total streams independently. Nylon hailed her debut track, "Brutally," as "what a Lana Del Rey deep cut mixed with Joni Mitchell's 'Both Sides, Now' would sound like." In addition to raves from Garage, Vice and Lemonade Magazine, Dujor put it best: "Suki Waterhouse's music has swagger." Suki is constantly consuming artists of all stripes, and, in the lead-up to making I Can't Let Go, she was particularly drawn to the work of Sharon Van Etten, Valerie June, Garbage, Frazey Ford, Lou Doillon, and Lucinda Williams. After falling in love with Hiss Golden Messenger's Terms of Surrender, she reached out to its producer Brad Cook (Bon Iver, War On Drugs, Snail Mail, Waxahatchee) to help define the sound of I Can't Let Go. On I Can't Let Go, Suki not only catalogs her life up to this point, but she also fulfills a lifelong ambition. "When I've been stuck or feel out of touch with a sense of inner meaning and outer purpose, I've found both through searching my memories and finding those events buried in the shadowy areas of the psyche where they were ignored," she says. "So many times of change in my life have required return visits-especially at the transitions through to the next stages. The album is an exploration of those moments when there is nothing left to lose. What is left and can't be thrown away is the self."

On her second full-length record, Head of Roses, Jenn Wasner follows a winding thread of intuition into the unknown and into healing, led by gut feelings and the near-spiritual experience of visceral songwriting. The result is a combination of Wasner's ability to embrace new levels of vulnerability, honesty and openness, with the self-assuredness that comes with a decade-plus career as a songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentalist and prolific collaborator. Simply put, Head of Roses is a record about heartbreak, but from a dualistic perspective. It's about the experience of having one's heart broken and breaking someone else's heart at the same time. But beyond that, it's about having to reconcile the experience of one's own pain with the understanding that it's impossible to go through life without being the source of great pain for someone else. "Part of the journey for me has been learning to take responsibility for the parts of things that are mine, even when I'm in a lot of pain through some behavior or action of someone else. If I'm expecting to be forgiven for the things I've done and the choices I've made and the mistakes that I've made, it would be incredibly cowardly and hypocritical to not also do the work that's required to forgive others the pain they caused me." Showcasing the depth of Wasner's songwriting capabilities and the complexity of her vision, Head of Roses calls upon her singular ability to create a fully-formed sonic universe via genre-bending amalgamation of songs and her poetic and gut punch lyrics. It's the soundtrack of Wasner letting go - of control, of heartbreak, and of hiding who she is: "I think I've finally reached a point in my career where I feel comfortable enough with myself and what I do, that I'm able to relax into a certain simplicity or straight forwardness that I wasn't comfortable with before." Head of Roses puts Wasner's seismically powerful voice front and center. Those vocals help thread it all together -- it's a textured musicality, quilted together by intentionality and intuition. Wasner and producer Nick Sanborn (Sylvan Esso, Made of Oak) assembled Head of Roses in the same way you'd put together a mixtape, painstakingly and carefully melding disparate parts into a whole, transcending genre to weave a story of heartache and healing together. And in the same way a homemade, painstakingly-crafted mixtape plays out, with the maker's fingerprints left all over its songs - so goes Head of Roses. Carefully curated and culled from the depths of Wasner's heartbreak and healing, it's deeply, intensely personal. But just as we change ourselves by embracing the pain of loss and uncertainty, so too are the purpose of these songs changed through the act of creating them. Having succeeded in healing the person who made them, they now exist for those who find them in their own moments of need. Always in motion, the original spirit of creation has already flown from this place-but it's left behind a blueprint, a tool for you, to lean on, too.

Sub Pop is excitedly, finally repressing vinyl versions of three scorching '90s psychobilly classics by Reverend Horton Heat. All three have been out of print on vinyl since the mid-'90s, with original pressings going for considerable amounts at the ol' junk shop. 1993's The Full Custom Gospel Sounds of_ stepped things up a bit, with fuller production by fellow Texan Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers. In addition to the hilarious "Bales of Cocaine," Full Custom_ features the furious "400 Bucks," the atmospheric creeper "The Devil's Chasing Me," and "Wiggle Stick." On seeing the video for the latter, Beavis declared, accurately, "Yes! This guy RULES!" while Butthead agreed, "Yeah_ this guy ROCKS! ROCKS!!"

Sub Pop is excitedly, finally repressing vinyl versions of three scorching '90s psychobilly classics by Reverend Horton Heat. All three have been out of print on vinyl since the mid-'90s, with original pressings going for considerable amounts at the ol' junk shop. The band's 1990 debut, Smoke 'em If You Got 'em, made quite the first impression with frantic stand-up bass, fiery guitar playing, and the Rev's wild howls stirring up a volatile cocktail of '50s rockabilly, punk energy, and sly humor. AllMusic said of the album "it's all sleaze, it's all wrong, and it's all so very, very right," while, on encountering the hit single "Psychobilly Freakout" Beavis and Butthead raved "This dude is weird!" "Yeah, yeah, he's like... our kind of people."

Sub Pop is excitedly, finally repressing vinyl versions of three scorching '90s psychobilly classics by Reverend Horton Heat. All three have been out of print on vinyl since the mid-'90s, with original pressings going for considerable amounts at the ol' junk shop. 1994's Liquor in the Front gets even more aggressive - heavy, even - sonically, with production by Ministry's Al Jourgensen and the high-velocity opening pairing of the high-velocity instrumental "Big Sky" and the blistering lament "Baddest of the Bad." The highest-selling of the Rev's first three albums, Liquor_ was originally co-released with Interscope Records, with the album hitting #18 on the Billboard Heatseekers chart and the single "One Time for Me" hitting #40 on the Modern Rock chart. In the words of AllMusic, "for sheer crank, nothing in his catalog can touch it."

Die japanische Band Chai verzauberte die Welt 2017 mit ihrem Debütalbum Pink, einer Sammlung von Songs, die ihren einzigartigen, verspielten Pop vorstellten. Das enthusiastisch-feministische Nachfolgealbum Punk wurde von der Musikpresse und anderen Künstlern hoch gelobt. Das führte zu Wink, das Chai per Remote-Zoom-Sessions aufnahmen - eine Einschränkung, die sich als Stärke erwies, da Mana (Leadgesang und Tasten), Kana (Gitarre), Yuna (Schlagzeug) und Yuuki (Bass und Texte) mit Künstler*innen im Ausland zusammenarbeiten konnten, um ein Werk zu schaffen, das in ihrer internationalen Gemeinschaft Katharsis fand. Im Gegensatz zu Wink kehren Chai auf ihrem neuen, selbstbetitelten Album zu ihren Wurzeln zurück und lassen sich von ihrem japanischen Erbe und der Musik, mit der sie aufgewachsen sind, inspirieren. "Alles, was sich in den Texten widerspiegelt, drückt unsere Erfahrungen als japanische Frauen aus", sagt Mana. Chais Ethos ist das der Inklusion, und die erste Ssingle "We The Female!" - die live aufgenommen wurde, um die krawalligen Auftritte der Band zu würdigen - lädt die Zuhörer zu dieser Mission ein. Während ihrer Tourneen nach der Pandemie, bei denen sie vor riesigen Menschenmengen in Städten wie Santiago, Buenos Aires und Sao Paulo auftraten, wurde Chai klar, dass sie sich ein globales Publikum erschlossen hatten. Chai schrieben das neue Album unterwegs und fanden zwischen den Auftritten im Stones Throw Studio in L.A., in der Ometusco Sound Machine in Mexico City und in der Grand Street in New York Zeit für die Aufnahmen. Als sie erkannten, dass ihre befreiende, ermächtigende Botschaft auch für Menschen außerhalb Japans gilt, überlegten Chai, welche Facetten ihrer Erziehung beim Publikum außerhalb ihres Heimatlandes Anklang finden könnten. Auf Chai schöpft die Band direkt aus dem City-Pop, einem in Tokio entstandenen Sound, der in den 70er und 80er Jahren populär war. City-Pop war eine japanische Interpretation westlicher Lounge-Musik, die Anleihen bei Jazz, Boogie, Funk und Yacht-Rock machte, um einen Sound zu kreieren, der sich zwischen zwei Kulturen bewegte. Während der City-Pop in letzter Zeit über TikTok und YouTube ein US-Publikum gefunden hat, sind Chai mit diesem Genre aufgewachsen. Für die Produktion griffen sie auf ihren früheren Mitarbeiter Ryu Takahashi zurück, der ihre Vorliebe für City Pop, Eurobeat und die Melodien von J-Pop-Künstlern wie Maria Takeuchi teilte. "Sie wollten sich mit ihrer japanischen Identität auseinandersetzen, nicht im traditionellen Sinne, sondern auf diese gefilterte westliche Art", sagt Takahashi. Die Arbeit in gut ausgestatteten Studios ermöglichte es ihnen, mit einer Ästhetik zu experimentieren, die auf einem Chai-Album noch nicht zu hören war.

You can't get Deeper if you're standing still. That's intentional, says the Chicago quartet's Nic Gohl. "Does it feel good when you're listening to this song? Does your body want to move with it?" These are the questions he asked himself as he and bandmates Shiraz Bhatti, Drew McBride, and Kevin Fairbairn were writing and recording Careful!, their third record and Sub Pop debut. "I wanted these to be interesting songs, but in a way where a two-year-old would vibe out to it," Gohl adds. "It's pop music, basically." That "basically" qualifier is working pretty hard, as fans of 2020's Auto-Pain might suppose. On Careful!, they're not reimagining their sound so much as testing its limits. If you want to, you can hear echoes of David Bowie's Low in the snapping rhythm and gray-sky synths of "Tele," but you can also hear a bit of Auto-Pain in the nailed-in, stippling lines being spit out by Bhatti's drum programming and McBride's synthesizer. "Fame" seems to stumble together and nearly fall apart, the dialed-up noise making the beat feel maniacal and a little invincible, the whole thing a series of short, snipped, autonomous gestures that are by now Deeper's trademark. "Build a Bridge" pushes in the opposite direction, using a prickly guitar line to launch into big, smeary art-pop, its emotional palette clear, well-defined, and easy to latch onto. On "Sub," Gohl sings above and below the melody like Ian McCulloch, bellowing and wondering and ruminating and rounding into swaggering confidence that the band rises to meet. It's festival headliner music that still feels like it was written in a garage. That fraternal interdependence is near the center of Deeper's music. The musical and lyrical devotion to mutuality makes this restlessly curious, stylistically broad album feels like the most coherent portrait of who Deeper is. Or, as McBride ultimately frames it, "Careful! is about looking out for one another."

"The Become EP is a collection of 5 songs from the Once Twice Melody sessions. We didn't think they fit in the world of OTM, but later realized they all fit in a little world of their own. To us, they are all kind of scuzzy and spacious, and live in the spirit realm. It's not really where we are currently going, but its definitely somewhere we have been. We hope you enjoy these tunes." Alex and Victoria/Beach House.

... incl. coupon for free download of the entire album

Kiwi Jr. Is A Phenomenal "Rock" And/Or "Punk" And/Or "Indie-Rock" (Whichever You Like More) Band From Canada, Made Up Of Jeremy Gaudet (Mic, Guitar), Brohan Moore (Drums), Mike Walker (Bass), And Brian Murphy (Guitar). Cooler Returns Is Their Second Album, And Their First For Sub Pop. Despite Being A Snapshot Of The Pandemic-Infused Beginnings Of This Decade, Cooler Returns Is Truly A Whole Lot Of Fun. Riyl Indie-Pop From Down Under, Things That Are Smart/Exuberant/Catchy All At Once. Buildings Burning In Every Direction; Macabre Unknowns In Your Friendly Neighbor's Basement; Undecided Voters Sharpening Their Pencils: Under Pressure We Could Call Kiwi Jr.'S Cooler Returns "Timely." But What Year Is It, Again? On Cooler Returns, Kiwi Jr. Cycle Through The Recent Zigs & Looming Zags Of The New Decade, Squinting Anew At New Year's Parties Forgotten And Under-Investigated Small Town Diner Fires, Piecing Together Low-Stakes Conspiracy Theories On What's Coming Down The Pike In 2021. Put Together Like A Thousand-Piece Puzzle, Assembled In Flow State Through The First Dull Stretch Of Quarantine, Sanitized Singer Shuffling To Sanitized Studio By Streetcar, Masked Like It's The Kind Of Work Where Getting Recognized Means Getting Killed, Cooler Returns Materializes As A Sprawling Survey From The First Few Bites Of The Terrible Twenties, An Investigative Exposé Of Recent History Buried Under The Headlines & Ancient Kings Buried Under Parking Lots. Not So Long Since Their Debut Football Money In Archaeological Time, Unending Gray Eons Later In The Dog Years Of Quaran-Time, Spiritually Antipodean Canadians Kiwi Jr Return To Disseminate This Year's Annual Report To The Shareholders, Burying The Incriminating Numbers In The Endless Appendices Of A Longform Narrative Record, A 3,000 Word Tract For Stakeholders To Pore Over. These Stories - Memories Of Augusts Past, Unrepressed & Transcribed Fast - Go Down Easier Thanks To Meaningful Changes Enacted In 2019's Kiwicares Pledge: Delivering On A Promise To Transition F...

This 30th-anniversary edition of the '90s underground rock classic Smell the Magic includes all 9 songs from the album, remastered and available together on vinyl for the first time ever! A multitude of rock music scenes populated the expanse of Los Angeles in 1989: hardcore punk, industrial goth, roots rock, and Sunset Strip hair metal, to name a few. L7 fit into none of them, creating their own unique blend of punk and hard, hooky rock loaded with humor and cultural commentary. Originally released in 1990, Smell the Magic is a a landmark of '90s feminist rock.

"Change is inevitable if you're lucky," says guitarist/vocalist Alex Edkins while talking about Atlas Vending, the fourth full-length album by Toronto's Metz. "Our goal is to remain in flux, to grow in a natural and gradual way. We've always been wary to not overthink or intellectualize the music we love but also not satisfied until we've accomplished something that pushes us forward." The music made by Edkins and his compatriots Hayden Menzies (drums) and Chris Slorach (bass) has always been a little difficult to pin down. Their earliest recordings contained nods to the teeming energy of early '90s DIY hardcore, the aggravated angularities of This Heat, and the noisy riffing of AmRep's quintessential guitar manglers, but there was never a moment where Metz sounded like they were paying tribute to the heroes of their youth. If anything, the sonic trajectory of their albums captured the journey of a band shedding influences and digging deeper into their fundamental core-steady propulsive drums, chest-thumping bass lines, bloody-fingered guitar riffs, the howling angst of our fading innocence. With Atlas Vending, Metz not only continues to push their music into new territories of dynamics, crooked melodies, and sweat-drenched rhythms, they explore the theme of growing up and maturing within a format typically suspended in youth. Covering seemingly disparate themes such as paternity, crushing social anxiety, addiction, isolation, media-induced paranoia, and the restless urge to leave everything behind, each of Atlas Vending's ten songs offer a snapshot of today's modern condition and together form a musical and narrative whole. The song sequencing follows a cradle-to-grave trajectory, spanning from primitive origins through increasingly nuanced and turbulent peaks and valleys all the way to the climactic closer, "A Boat to Drown In." The lyrics speak to this arc as well, with the songs addressing life's struggles all the way through to death, as Edkins snarls "crashed through the pearly gates and opened up my eyes, I can see it now" before the band launches into the album's cascading outro. While past Metz albums thrived on an abrasive relentlessness, the trio embarked on Atlas Vending with the goal to make a more patient and honest record-something that invited repeated listens rather than a few exhilarating bludgeonings. It's as if the band realized they were in it for the long haul, and their music could serve as a constant as they navigated life's trials and tribulations. The result is a record that sounds massive, articulate, and earnest. Bolstered by the co-production of Ben Greenberg (Uniform) and the engineering and mixing skills of Seth Manchester (Daughters, Lingua Ignota, The Body) at Machines with Magnets in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Metz deliver the most dynamic, dimensional, and compelling work of their career.