His debut The Golden Age of Apocalypse was a snapshot of what he could do. It was largely instrumental with a thoughtful combination of Herbie Hanckock inspired jazz fusion with a little Musiq Soulchild, Madlib and Ron Carter thrown in for good measure.

It was a project that tapped the potential of a phenom who regularly cites Dragonballl Z and of course Thundercats as driving influences. Thin on lyrics, Golden Age was an avenue in which Bruner could finally step out into the spotlight. Tentative at first, but revealing nonetheless: [LISTEN]

Seasons blow away, but the love is just the same
Each time you go away, but the love won’t let me stay
Each time you go away, but the love won’t hurt today
Seasons blow away, but the love still hurts the same

His newest album Apocalypse (Brainfeeder; June 4) takes his songwriting to another level. It’s much more loose and relaxed, and as the album goes on Bruner’s vocals only get stronger. Unlike before he’s able to give words to ideas and emotions where there once were none. He’s allowing his lyrics to tell the story as opposed to relying solely on his bass: [LISTEN]

Listen with your heart and see through all of your fears
Open up your world
That’s just yours cause life just seems so short
But if you play the game you can win in the end

Bruner also makes it a point not to take himself too seriously. The instrumental “The Life Aquatic” is a sympathetic nod to the tomfoolery of fictional oceanographer Steve Zissou (played by Bill Murray). Bruner also takes a moment to pen a heartfelt love letter to his cat, something he probably couldn’t have done in his debut: [LISTEN]

Don’t you know you rock my world
Don’t you ever leave me Turbo Tron
Don’t ever wonder where I’m going
I always come back to you

What’ll likely garner Bruner the most attention are the dance floor bombers “Oh Sheit It’s X” [LISTEN] and “Lotus and the Jondy.” But on closer inspection it’s the closing track “A Message for Austin/Praise the Lord/Enter the Void“ that speaks to the soul of Thundercat. An homage to friend and bandmate Austin Peralta who died last fall at the age of 22, it sends the resounding message that when it comes to Thundercat love will always be a foundational touchstone:

I know I’ll see you again
In another life
Thank you for sharing your love and your light
Though we say goodbye
We will say hello again

Their debut album Hokey Fright (Rhymesayers) is an even embrace where both step out of their comfort zone to help facilitate a balanced yet cheeky dialogue – the ethos of The Uncluded.

In ”Delicate Cycle” Aesop, softens up his grizzly, smash-mouth delivery to harmonize over some warm acoustics and playful percussion. It’s notable to hear how he can piggy back a song while still maintaining his morbid sense of humor: [LISTEN]

I can take my finger off, old dog, old trick
New twist like actually take the finger off
Wrap it in a blanket as you would a severed horse head
Mail it to a friend you wanna pinky swear more with

Kimya holds her end of the bargain as well. Her dainty, off kilter sense of humor and unabashed sense of self find a surprisingly welcome home in hip-hop inspired loops and samples. She sounds slightly tentative at times, but lets loose completely on “Tits Up:” [LISTEN]

How can I save you when I can barely save myself?
Codependent No More on my audio bookshelf
Cruise to your town in my cape and my unitar
See what I can do with my lyrics and guitar

Both dabble in the others respective genres. And that’s where the Uncluded find their voice – in this hybrid playland where folk can hold hands with rap and not feel awkward. It’s an empathetic exchange that allows them to be open and honest without sounding like complete basket cases – a discussion involving everything from organ donation [LISTEN] and plane crashes [LISTEN] to sandwiches [LISTEN].

There is an undeniable novelty factor to the Uncluded, but that comes with wanderlust collaborations of this kind. Once past their respective genres it’s easy to see how enthralled they are with one another. They’re not indulging in tourism here, there’s a genuine willingness to build, which only means good things for future Uncluded albums.

In the end longtime fans of Kimya will find something empowering in Aesop’s audacious approach. And longtime fans of Aesop will find something pleasantly warm in Kimya’s fearless embrace – exactly what a collaboration of this sort is supposed to do:

It’s important to give away your pieces
In the detail surrounding your death
There will always be a need for the pieces you are made of
You may one day need a few pieces yourself

His debut mixtape 10 Day was a brief yet poignant introduction to the burgeoning star. At times he sounded his age like on “Fuck You Tahm About“, which is essentially a giant middle finger aimed at high school. But in other instances like “Nostalgia” he showed just how thoughtful he can be as a wordsmith: [LISTEN]

From diapers to outfits to castles to Elmos
From Santas to grandmas to Gameboys and cellphones
Rocked your world, fourth grade talent show
Jada and Justin’s birthday magic show

He can be a brash juvenile one moment and a thoughtful wonder kid the next, the real Chance lying somewhere in between. But with some sage advice from industry folks like Kevin Coval of Young Chicago Authors and Alexander Fruchter formerly of Ruby Hornet, Chance has articulated those experiences into an engaging narrative. “14,400,” the exact amount of minutes he was suspended from high school, captures the obstacles he’s faced so far as an aspiring writer: [LISTEN]

They took my nigga one night, and I was standing right there
An inch away from heaven, a million songs from right here
A step away from South By, a swing away from Cali
A hook away from verses, I’m a dad away from rapping

Chance is still figuring things out, and his latest mixtape Acid Rap is another step in the right direction. Consider it an extension of 10 Day, but with a little more seasoning. The divide between Chancelor Bennett and Chance the Rapper are even more pronounced on Acid Rap, and it makes for some compelling lyricism. He raps about everything from Flaming Hot Cheetos and Kiwi Mistic (“Smoke Again“) to the troubled streets of Chicago (Pusha Man): [LISTEN]

They be shooting whether it’s dark or not, I mean the days is pretty dark a lot
Down here it’s easier to find a gun than it is to find a fucking parking spot
No love for the opposition, specifically a cop position
Cause they’ve never been in our position

Chance has been everywhere lately and he’s poised for a breakout. He’s been recognized by pretty much every major news outlet in Chicago, and just missed making the XXL Freshmen List (think McDonald’s All American but for rap). Missing the cut, however, hasn’t slowed him down. The upside is endless – he’ll be performing at this years Lollapalooza – and as of right now he’s sitting pretty waiting for yet another chance to prove his worth as a marquee lyricist:

I used to be worse than worthless
Now I’m worth hooks and verses
I’m good like books in churches
Harolds and Hooks and Churches

This attempt at a project that wouldn’t be under a laser-focused limelight failed as the bloggerati hype machine has not only built up their two records – the unreleased 2008 EP Mouthoil and the soon-to-drop album Grownass Man – but somewhat undersold any relation of these records to Vernon’s previous work. There’s still rich, doo-wop harmonies, name-drops for various American cities, and that famous falsetto – it’s just more rootsy and heavy. This blues-centric feel reminds a bit of Ben Harper and Charlie Musselwhite‘s recent collaboration Get Up! as well, but with a garage-rock vibe. Check out Vernon’s switch from whine to distorted howl on “Heaven Knows“: [LISTEN]

Heaven knows you’re the kind of lady
That could shoot me in the foot
And take all of my possessions
And then hit me with the boot
Goddamnit, y’all

They shine most on ballsy tracks like that one, but also run the gamut from alcohol-fueled escapism over uptempo country (“Mother, When?“), gospel-based Jackson 5 influence (“New Theme“), and classic rock reminiscent of “Beast of Burden” (“Seven Sisters“). The overall aura cultivated is of a sunset at Langerado (RIP), the kind of music that magically puts a Shock Top (or virgin strawberry lemonade) in your hand and shades on your eyes, reminding you it’s been too long since you went to a summer festival.

While not quite as hipster-friendly or groundbreaking as Bon Iver, The Shouting Matches are a slick listen and put on a solid show. They may not be quite the anti-Bon Iver as advertised, but don’t let your feelings about the latter affect your first listen of the former. The sentimentality may be diminished, but you always knew that the guy who birthed his breakthrough album from a cabin in the woods was a ‘bear‘ at heart, bad news and all:

Oh baby I’m a bear
I’ll bring you bad news

It all started with ‘Pond Rot‘ – a juggernaut which Gurtowsky tells us that he wrote while on vacation in The Cape. “I felt alienated from my family,” he says of the trip. Hardly surprising coming from a front man from Amherst, right? Wrong. When did you last hear J Mascis‘ pen find solace in Animorphs - yeah, that book series about those weird ass kids who could morph into any animal that they placed their hands on? Because that is what this good shit is all about: [LISTEN]

Would you, would you,
Live down in the murky ground
Turning the fishy deep
Where it’s dark and gloom
Feels and fens growing in my skin
I want a pond to rot in

Although he says that he “certainly likes some lyrics,” Gurtowsky is no socially awkward Dino-in-the-making. He delights in telling us that California X’s glowing debut dissects “the meaning of friendship” and marvels at “the flux of life.” At this point in the interview, Gurtowsky breaks the entire album down, track-by-track. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if he is trolling us. But, on the whole, the songwriter’s bizarre anecdotes appear to come from a genuine – and extraordinarily charming – place:

• ‘Sucker‘ is about a friend who lost their job and never found one again.
• ‘Curse of the Nightmare‘ is about my friend Devin. He will soon be married.
• ‘Pond Rot‘ is about many things. One thing that it is about is pollution.
• ‘Hot Hed‘ is about when I have one beer and the feelings I have.
• ‘Spider Song‘ is about the time I accidentally ate a spider.
• ‘Lemmy’s World‘ is about how my name is actually Lemmy (Lemuel).
• ‘Spirit World‘ is about those who have passed on. It is also about my favorite movie.
• ‘Mummy‘ is about a friend who was trapped in a cast for quite a long time.

Despite the analogous guitar lashings, California X is not the work of a “fanboy” who devoted his adolescence to the study of You’re Living All Over Me. Rather, Gurtowsky cites veteran pop-smiths like Nina Simone, Marty Robbins and Debbie Harry among his influences. Telling, then, that beneath those thick blankets of delicious sludge, a hook is nurtured, a melody is refined and – above all – a friendship is bound. But, about that spider:

Well so it goes

Yeah so it goes

Them city boys in country clothes

Oh take a chance and roll the bones

Go crash your car

Burn down your home

…

Yeah try to forget all your enemies and debts

They’ll just chase you ’round and give you sour dreams

Rose-Garcia’s a curious character, a breed of self-hating Austinite that went to high school with power-blues upstart Gary Clark Jr., and has dipped a few toes in Hollywood, snagging roles in Friday Night Lights and other slacker-throb teen dramas. While his first album, Roll the Bones (2011) is a grainy, intimate affair, rife with front-porch finger-picking emulations (“Georgia Moon“), kooky 4-track overdubs layering instructional sex video dialogue (“The Seal Hunter“) and breathy, bass-note tributes to the Boss (“I’m on Fire“). Sin, addiction, wanderlust, humor, he covers a lot of ground and textures as a young Bert. Maybe almost too much. But my is it a thrill to watch him take writing shape, cut with the loud-quiet skill of Jeff Buckley‘s finest catharsis all sunburnt, dusty and wryly sad, being “bored and lazy,” but glowingly “Built to Roam:”

Watch out cause here I come
Bored and lazy
Yeah here i come just passin’ through
Oh follow me beyond the mountain
Go howl the ol’ big moon
Yeah strip them clothes right off your body
Dress your skin in sticks and stones
Doesn’t matter where were headed cause
Some of us were built
Some of us were built
Some of us were built to roam

To clarify, “mathiness” comes from changing time signatures, or at least playing something besides common-time – it’s a largely untapped source of tension and interest. Math-rock also seems to require a silly/strange sense of humor. Unfortunately, today’s standard bearers Hella and Tera Melos are dropping the ball, leaving a void – Hella’s on hiatus and Tera Melos are slowly becoming Wavves-meets-Nada Surf, or something similarly less awesome than their old selves.

Enter Seattleites Postmadonna. There are bigger names in the “ADHD” cult genre, but none have made it so catchy, melodic or lyrical. After a respectable demo (Antiquated), and a Philip K. Dick-inspired electronic experiment that suggests 65daysofstatic, Dntel, prog-metal and drum-and-bass (Valis), the dudes put their best foot forward on Introducing Postmadonna.

Introducing is, in one word – rad. In two – “too short.” Start to finish, not a second’s wasted. Every subtle dropped or added beat fits perfectly and demands repeat listens. And, Lordy, the choruses, or rather the six-vocalist scream-along anthems, kill. This cherry in their single of sorts, “Whose Absinthe Is This?,” particularly owns [LISTEN]:

Disparity reeks of fucking slime
Scores of revolving doors expanding their bottom line
Let’s expose the anti-zen
The men who pose as righteous
Only when lucrative to them

Not to abandon Valis’ psychedelia, the EP’s second half documents a mushroom trip: anticipation, euphoria, nostalgia, enlightenment, visual distortion, regretful longing, and a nauseating comedown. It’s all then backed by their signature math-pop into a melancholic string-ballad with drummer Richard Clark-Coller doubling down as violinist – a huge musical change, but it matches the lyrical progression from “Shroomiverse Part II” [LISTEN] to “Hallways” [LISTEN]:

If I could just pause my life, keep it the way I like
Watch my pupils fight for size as I lay on my back and fantasize
Of happier times, of happier times, of happier times
Split my brain apart, reassemble it anew
…
My eyes are kaleidoscopes
I slowly choke as the vomit creeps up my throat
My life has seem lucid these past few days
And now I’m saying hello to the heartache

Their whole catalog is available as “pay-what-you-want” on Bandcamp, with a new EP coming out this month, so you have no excuse: put these dudes on your iPod. Besides, Seattle listeners, it’s time for you to check out a local band that isn’t attempting to coattail-ride Fleet Foxes with MOR-folk and stereotypical gospel harmonies. Hell, you’ll even impress your biggest music-nerd friends.

Get down
On the ground
Don’t move
Make a sound
No more
Thought control
You do
What you’re told
…
Listen to the sounds of my big black boots

One would think holy matrimony and a new baby would loosen Reznor’s leather glove, but he and Maandig seem to love coddling the darker sides of life. Reznor’s not positing he wants to “fuck [her] like an animal,” by any means. Though their dada chemistry, laced around Ross’ sterile Depeche Mode-blip bloopery is sublime. Even in playful folk oddball “Ice Age,” first introduced on the group’s second extended play, An Omen EP_, Maandig is found seething, “sometimes the hate in me is keeping me alive.” So a debut LP title like Welcome Oblivion (March 5) doesn’t really surprise, rather has us channeling our inner sadist. Or as Maandig howls aloft the burning house and blister imagery in lead single “How Long?”

How long
Can we keep holding on?

Omar Rodríguez-López’s career choices have consistently surprised fans and critics alike. When he started firing key TMV players, the following albums’ liner notes read this paraphrased disclaimer: “‘The Mars Volta’ is the partnership between Rodriguez-Lopez and singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala – the other performers are ‘The Mars Volta Group.’” This freed him to cycle through musicians as he saw fit, but also bonded him to lyricist Cedric for nearly 20 years. Bosnian Rainbows is Omar’s first group without Cedric, who hasn’t taken it too well.

Teri Gender Bender of Mexican punk band Le Butcherettes, which also features Omar on bass, drives the lyrical bus of this strange hybrid, while final TMV drummer, Deantoni Parks, and his keys collaborator, Nicci Kasper, fill it out. Teri’s stage-name is a warning flag for her feminist subversion of gender roles in both bands; she can sing like a songbird or be aggressively throaty, reminding slightly of both Grace Slick and Janis Joplin but more masculine. Live, her captivating stage presence switches instantly from groove-dancing to dystonia twitching. 

This range fits her visceral message: the unsurprisingly depressing “Worthless” [LISTEN] compares the useless world to “your blue and dead insides,” followed by the determination to “live on” anyway; on the part horror-synth, part new wave ode to the colors red and black “Dead to Me” [LISTEN] she describes self-harm as “tearing lakes inside [her] skin.” The dance-funky “Kiss My Brown Eye,” the third cut from their TBA debut album, judged by title, barely even hints at the coming sexual predation: [LISTEN]

You dig right in me
Without the hole of a spoon
And when I walk now
This wound has grown by the years
You kiss my brown eye
Almost a shell of a man
You call the children
It makes me sick ’til I die

Bosnian Rainbows is still reminiscent of the last Volta album Noctourniquet in its straightforward creepiness, but they take it several steps further: four-minute-pop structure, a drum kit of just kick/snare/hat, and every member, besides Teri, has their own keyboard, providing a minimalist psychedelic atmosphere.

They will still piss off Volta followers who want 10-minute shred-fests and Cedric’s Plant-esque gyrations. But hey, that’s how ATD-I fans felt in 2001. Omar’s streamlined goal to “make it shorter and to the point” successfully funnels his angular guitar through a self-proclaimed Siouxsie and the Banshees influence, while still keeping the most of the Volta’s bugs-under-the-skin vibe.

“Torn Maps” [LISTEN] is a slight let-down as the lead single, but before you write off this new project for its lack of drum solos, revert back to “Kiss My Brown Eye,” “Turtleneck” [LISTEN], and “Dead to Me.” Besides, Omar’s got to do what he wants – we all know what happens to his enthusiasm when he’s playing anything else. Plus, Teri needs the audience more than Cedric so she can break up the sexist undertones of the “rock and roll boy’s club,” and Bosnian Rainbows are the best way to swallow that pill.

Lyrically, Parquet Courts transcend state barriers. The band write on behalf of the indifferent 20-somethings – or, as Savage prefers to call them in liner notes, “the over-socialized victims of the 1990′s” – the world over, of which I am, and probably, you are one. Whether they are looking for a job, looking for a snack or looking for a goddamn purpose, Parquet Courts are all at once driven by ambition and disabled by apathy – an oxymoronic thread that runs through the band’s entire oeuvre:

I was up to my neck in motivation neglect when
I felt soft waves of purpose crashing onto the surface.
I was feeling nostalgic for the days when
My thoughts dripped on to my head from the ceiling.
I remember the feeling

Periodic inertia aside, when it comes to his pen and ink, Savage is no slacker. “The writing always comes first – all the melodies and all the music are worked around the writing,” he explained to Pitchfork. It’s hardly surprising, coming from the wordsmith behind sage one-liners like “Socrates died in the fuckin’ gutter” and “At night we hum to Canada’s snoring.” And while his band’s two-minute give-or-take, smash-and-grab vignettes are not so much breaking ground as they are busting guts, who’s to say Parquet Courts would have it any other way: