, takes a dive into the ethereal. The album is a departure from the lyrical alternative rock that the Philly-based band is best known for, with hazy background tracks and blurred voice effects that give the listener a dreamy feeling. The change in tone is owed to the unique writing process that the band took for this album. After their long and exhausting 

 tour, lead singer and songwriter Rob Grote locked himself in his bedroom to write without expectations or restraints. Grote has released a solo-album under the alias Goat Mumbles, and 

 is a mix between the shadowy electronica of Goat Mumbles and the grungy alt rock of The Districts.

The combination is an interesting one. What is lost from The Districts’ original sound, such as the scream-along rock anthems and the stripped guitar melodies, is replaced by an element of the ethereal that was not there before. New instruments are included in the mix, such as trumpet and violin, that strengthen the sound and prove The District’s range. The lyrics reveal a confused and tired Grote, clinging to love through the struggles of working to make it big in the music industry.

“Hey Jo” reveals Grote’s Hollywood disillusionment through a sung letter to “Jo,” a lost friend or lover who went to Los Angeles in search of fame. Grote questions the integrity of LA’s promise of “sunshine” and celebrity, and curses his own yearning for a turn in the spotlight. The delicate guitar picking in the background is indicative of The Districts’ sound, while the blurred voice effects and hazy soundtrack in the bridge introduces new dimensions of their breadth.

“Cheap Regrets” opens with soft synth that transitions into more traditional alt rock, speaking again of the hollow satisfaction that LA-money buys. “Sidecar” is the album’s dance-along track. The most fast paced of the album, it almost brings the oomph of the band’s past bangers – save for their failure to go full cathartic release screamo-mode. Instead, the song fades into hazy synth sounds that leave the punk rock inclined listener slightly lacking.

“Velour and Velcro” is a clear highlight of the album, with lyricism that showcases The District’s poetic expertise in full glory. The song is “about the elusive nature of bliss and how even when you’ve caught it, you know it may be fleeting,” according to Grote on Instagram. In other words, it is about the joy of falling in love and the appreciation of this feeling even when you know that one day it could disappear. The instrumentals are kept simple, accompanying rather than overpowering Grote’s echoing voice.

“Descend” and “4th of July” are simple love songs. Hidden behind The District’s obvious talent in alternative rock lies an equally as powerful strength in acoustic ballads. Grote’s voice is beautiful and cutting, and the words he sings carry an equal ability to dig deep. “Descend” tells of a love both destructive and indestructible and a lover that Grote would follow into death. “So keep me awake before you kill me / Your worst mistake / We’ll call it even for now / Your hand in mine / Descend together / They say it burns but you and I have known worse.” In “4th of July”, Grote reminisces about the uncertainty of falling in love amidst a moonlit trip to the beach on the Fourth of July.

When I met The Districts in person at their show last year in Afterhours, they responded to my admission of being a superfan with a confused and surprised “Really?” (If you are wondering, the answer is yes, they have been my favorite band since the seventh grade). While 

 differs from The Districts’ past sound, in it the band again proves their poetic and instrumental talent, just this time with a taste of dreamy synthetics and wistful vibes. The District’s reach has grown considerably in the past few years, but they still have yet to reach the mainstream. And while I can’t say I don’t enjoy seeing them close up at smaller venues, wider recognition is one thing that this band does deserve. The Districts pack a lyrical punch that I have yet to hear elsewhere, and they tote an impressive range of style to go with it. In concert, they are loud and commanding and angry and fun, a show led by the musicians as much as the lead singer. In studio recordings, Grote’s voice jumps forward and the deeper meanings of the songs shine through.

 is a new path for The Districts, and one worth following. Who knows, maybe as the band ventures out into the dream world, fans will start to follow. And while Grote has shown his mixed feelings towards the Hollywood lifestyle, maybe the alt slash indie rock sounds of a small Philly band are worth bringing into the limelight, if only for listeners’ sake.

‘You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere’ is a path worth following for The Districts

 lives up to its name: the album is a frenzied mix of potent emotion that brings the listener through a nonstop deep dive of Halsey’s mind. Halsey, the stage name of 25-year-old Ashley Frangipane, is at her most honest in her third studio album, the title of which refers to the manic episodes symptomatic of bipolar disorder. Halsey has been vocal about being bipolar, and 

 goes further into her mind by touching on truths about love, heartbreak, creating, and performing.

Halsey’s past albums have been elaborate constructions of dream universes in which the story unfolds through song. Her first full-length album, 

, is set in a rocky desert alternative world, a reflection of the artist’s mental health at the time. Her second album, 

, is a play on Romeo and Juliet that creates a kingdom of two dueling sects and focuses on the forbidden love between the main character, Luna Aureum, and her counterpart, Solis Angelus. The album plays with gender roles and sexuality assumptions using songs such as “Bad At Love” and “Strangers” that feature female love interests.

 departs from the past two albums in that it is not a construction of an alternative persona with which Halsey can share her voice, but a complete departure from any pretenses and a raw look into who Halsey, or Ashley, really is. The Spotify version of the album features a short clip at the beginning, in which Halsey introduces the ancient saying that each person has three faces: one they show to everyone, one they show to only those closest to them, and one that is the truest, most carnal version of oneself, which hides in the spaces in between. 

 is meant to offer listeners “a glimpse of that third face” – it is a chance for Halsey to take a step back and for Ashley to enter the stage. Halsey puts herself in full and sometimes painful scrutiny for this album, but the lyrical and emotional greatness that results makes her discomfort seem worthwhile.

remains in Halsey’s domain of the impeccably planned and wondrous, however. Halsey’s mind has been given a scenery, and each song contains clever references and interconnections for fans to discover. Halsey’s birthday, September 29, is a number of significance on the album, providing both the name for the last track, “929,” and the release date of one of the album’s singles, “clementine.” “clementine” is inspired by the character from 

, a quirky, lovable mess who erases all memories of her ex-boyfriend from her mind. The song that comes before it, “Ashley,” ends with a clip of a line from the movie.

The songs themselves vary in both their level of success and style. While 

 was written without a specific style in mind, and ranges from synth pop to country to rap to radio pop, a combination that can feel somewhat disjointed. The album is unified, though, by Halsey’s distinct indie voice and the overall theme of an exploration of different types of love, from romantic love to motherly love to self-love.

“Without Me” is the pop hit of the album, released as the first single after her public breakup with rapper G-Eazy. The song condemns the rapper for his string of cheating, a rumor that Halsey confirmed on her 

 of the song on Saturday Night Live. “Graveyard” and “3am” follow behind on the pop train, with varying levels of success. “Graveyard” is a powerful testimony of the altered thinking of someone in a toxic relationship, but “3am” struggles to convey its message and falls back on simple pop production.

“Finally // beautiful stranger” is a simple country-inspired song about falling in love with someone who finally makes you feel safe. The song differs from Halsey’s past music in that it doesn’t rely on heavy background production and veers toward country – the verses sound similar to Lady Gaga’s “Yoü And I.” This song is arguably one of the best Halsey has ever written. It’s simple, sweet, and authentic, its sentiment is universal, and Halsey’s voice is all the more powerful with the background synth sounds stripped away.

“clementine” is another one of the album’s most successful songs. Halsey sings of blackouts and breakdowns and a love that carries you through it all, and the simple piano in the background turns the song into a sort of real life fairytale.

“929” is the last song on the album, and it is by far Halsey’s most honest. In this song more than others, Halsey becomes Ashley as she sings about her childhood and her struggles with wanting to stay alive. She sings about an encounter with a fan, “And I remember this girl with pink hair in Detroit / Well, she told me / She said, ‘Ashley, you gotta promise us that you won’t die / ‘Cause we need you,’ and honestly, I think that she lied.” The song is like a diary in that it is honest and reads like a train of thought. Her admissions of negative self-worth and suicidal thoughts speak to a side of humanity too little mentioned in the edited world of pop stars.

 is an honest portrait of the scattered and hurting but also powerful and proud girl behind the name Halsey. While the tracks on 

 can feel somewhat disconnected, the album is united by Halsey’s urge to find truth in her writing and connect with a side of herself that usually remains hidden. The album has produced some of Halsey’s greatest feats of songwriting yet, her simple ballads reflecting the lyrical and vocal talent rarely seen since her first EP, 

 is a journey into Halsey’s mind, and shows why fans have come to love both Halsey and now Ashley, too.

‘Manic’ is an honest portrait of the girl behind the name Halsey

, Läpsley’s soulful voice is fitting for the 23-year old British artist’s emotional deep dive. The EP follows the inner turmoil of Läpsley, the stage name of Holly Läpsley Fletcher, following the end of a toxic relationship. In her own words, 

is about “emotional love, physical desire, depression, and self-worth. Everything I’ve gone through in the last four years is in these 

The EP comes three years after Läpsley’s first album debut 

 which solidified her reputation as a talented electronic artist and producer. She came to love music as a teenager, when she would take the bus to Liverpool from her childhood home in Southport, UK to attend underground warehouse raves. Her own musical style developed from this love for the rave scene of electronic music and psychedelic drugs, as well as her musical background in classical guitar, piano and drums. Coming from the inspiration of two very different backgrounds, her own style “met somewhere in 

This blend of classical and electronic was seen on 

 in songs such as “Seven Months,” which combines classical piano with an upbeat electronic rhythm. 

 builds upon Läpsley’s strong production skills, adding an emotional integrity not seen before. The four songs stand together as a unified set, tied together with imagery of nature that speaks to the underlying themes of love, loss, depression, and self-confidence.

The EP opens with “My Love Was Like the Rain,” a compelling statement of lost love and self-reflection. Läpsley looks back on a past relationship through memories of criticisms she received from a past lover, in which her love was too wild, painful, or strong. These sentiments are beautifully conveyed through the use of similes to aspects of nature, comparing her love to “the pain of [rain] hard on your back after a storm.” The song shifts from self-hate to an embodiment of these criticisms, as Läpsley sings out over a synth rhythm overlayed with a catchy snare beat and tracks of blended 

, “So I embodied these elements / I wear them like a fragrance.” This track is the most successful on the album; its lyrical imagery and tasteful production bring the listener through a story of heartbreak, self-doubt, and eventual self-acceptance and love.

This track is followed by “Eve,” a song led by a playful succession of xylophone notes, a simple bass beat, and electronic clicking. The song utilizes repetition to tell the story of a toxic love that left Läpsley empty and fallen. The chorus presents a series of questions to the listener, asking them to imagine her position of unreturned love and analyze their own lives for that experience. She also plays off of a metaphor of falling leaves, singing repeatedly “It only takes one man to fall / My leaves fall.”

The third track is “Ligne 3,” a slower, almost eerie ode to heartbreak and the overwhelming experience of missing someone you love. The chorus falls back onto the trippy electronic beat that Läpsley constructs so well, as she repeats “It’s not easy letting go / It’s not that simple.” The verses are slower and lyrical, almost a diary of her heartbreak. The song finishes with a hopeless appeal, illuminating the listener to the sorrow of a partner who tried so hard to lift her lover up and “go the distance” to make things work, and failed.

The EP finishes with “Drowning,” an honest plea against her depression. Läpsley addresses her parents, telling them the truth that she is no longer happy and wondering what happened to take away her determination. The song blends classical with electronic in the way that Läpsley does so well. Gentle classical piano is overlayed by a simple drumbeat, merging into a more developed echoing electronic beat for the chorus. Synth effects convert her voice to a higher pitch, an effect which was a staple of her debut album and exemplary of her style. The song plays with imagery of water, as Fletcher compares her depression to the experience of drowning.

 is a slower, more developed work from an artist who proved her talent as a producer and songwriter on her first album years before. Läpsley’s honesty, lyricism and unique beatwork in production proves her place as a strong artist in a male dominated field. 

 is the perfect soundtrack to a breakup, a breakdown, or a discovery of self worth, and proves that Läpsley is an artist that has more to show.

‘These Elements’ proves Läpsley a strong artist in the industry

The second album released this year by seemingly unstoppable Big Thief, 

 uses raw instrumentals and cunning vocals to show that the band’s greatness is not in their unique sound but in the sense of intimacy they create. The album is billed as “the earth twin” to their more ethereal “celestial twin” 

 released this past May. The album focuses on the directness of human experience: blood, sweat, tears, and dirt. Pared down instrumentals and the honesty of lead singer-songwriter Adrienne Lenker’s poetic lyricism propel the album deeper into the terrain of quiet indie and folk rock that it knows so intimately.

The album opens with the quiet “Rock and Sing,” a broken-down song that gives the impression of, as most of Lenker’s songwriting does, a look into her diary; poetry that drips with emotion whose context remains unknowable to a stranger’s ear. She writes of her emotional instability, of being tired of her fear of the world outside. “Confuse my home for a refuge / I don’t want to be scared of / Anybody coming in / I don’t want to lock my door anymore.”

Next is “Forgotten Eyes,” whose candid commentary on the state of the world has led to the album being labeled “political.” The song addresses the collective experience of humanity. Lenker takes note of the way the homeless are often forgotten, writing that this ignorance is a “tear” on the cheek of our collective humanity. However, the song reads less political and more as a Lenker’s pondering on the grievances of humanity and the part that she plays in it.

“Two Hands” is pared down yet upbeat, a simple folk song about love and the mysteries of life. If 

 was an exploration of the unknown, then 

 is a resolution to these questions. “Two Hands” accepts the reality of unknowable mysteries in terms of Lenker’s relationships, “And the more that we try

/ To figure through the answers / To repeat ourselves / To deny, deny.” It’s as if Lenker is realizing the costs of dwelling on questions whose answers can never be known, agreeing to focus instead on what is intimately knowable.

“Shoulders” features heartwrenching, visceral imagery that solidifies the albums roots in both the gritty and the beautiful. The verses speak of love and bare skin, as Lenker sings of a lover she turns to for protection. The chorus turns to blood and pain, as Lenker sings of guilt and sorrow. The song crescendos with Lenker’s pleading voice, heavy with emotion as she cries “The blood of the man / Who’s killing our mother with his hands / Is in me, it’s in me, in my veins.” The song’s raw emotion is the epitome of what Big Thief does best. The track has been a live fan favorite for years, one of four previously written tracks that the band recorded for this album (the other three being “Not,” “The Toy,” and “Rock and Sing”).

“Not” is the album’s other notable angsty track, following Lenker’s musings as she tries to find an answer to some truth that is “not” in any of the various realities surrounding her. The song is a repetition of negatives, a grocery list of the things that are not the long desired answer to Lenker’s question. The listener is left wondering about what the question and intended answer are anyway, but it feels as if this is the intention of the song. It is not important what the answers are, but what one encounters on the way to finding them.

The album finishes with “Wolf,” “Replaced,” and “Cut My Hair, ” three slower songs that speak again of mystery, sorrow, and relationships. “Wolf” is the most notable of the three, with Lenker singing of a lover she hopes will save her from the darkness within her, her own “wolf” hunting her for prey.

 is nothing new in Big Thief’s repertoire, but rather a dialed down, honest compilation of everything that makes the band so special. Big Thief puts the idea of band as family into practice in a way that is rarely seen, and the trust and camaraderie between them, along with Lenker’s honest lyricism, allows the band to convey truths of sorrow, pain, and confusion in a way that is visceral and rare. The album is a show of the band’s mastery of studio recordings. It’s a simulation of the band’s live shows, where one has the opportunity to see the ebb and flow of the members working together in harmony. Lenker’s unfiltered exploration into what it is that makes us human is perfectly fitting for the times in that its commentary is one that will always be relevant. 

 paints an honest portrait of humanity in all its glory and pain, in a way only such a dedicated and skilled band like Big Thief could do.

Big Thief cuts deep with ‘Two Hands’

 has the power to shake you. This album’s musings on life, death, loneliness, and nature had me discovering new truths about myself that I didn’t even know were there to be discovered. Florist’s third album differs from the band’s past work in that it was recorded, mixed, and sung entirely by lead singer Emily Sprague in her Los Angeles apartment. Sprague wrote the album following the recent death of her mother, the end of a serious relationship, and a cross country move – three major life changes that understandably ushered in emotional turmoil.

 is a soft accompaniment to Sprague’s mind in a period of darkness, an honest recounting of her fleeting hopes and deepest fears. It reads as a dream, or as a journey into Sprague’s warring mind in the form of forty minutes of sung and spoken musings over guitar picking and ambiance. In “M”, her voice is overlayed by the sound of Sprague out on a nature walk, making for a very peaceful, intimate listening experience. The ocean is a theme throughout the album, and Sprague writes about it as a place that both grounds and mystifies her.

 bleed together in a way that seems completely natural, lending to the feeling of entering Sprague’s universe. However, there are some songs that stand out more than others. “As Alone” is the opening track of the album, and it’s one to cut through your soul. Sprague sings to herself, “Emily, just know you are not as alone as you feel in the dark.” The honesty of this one repeated lyric has a way of simultaneously tearing into you and providing comfort.

“I Also Have Eyes” is a work of lyrical genius. Sprague speaks of the random cruelty of the universe (“My life is only a combination of things that I mostly have no control over”), the struggle to find identity (“It’s cold and late, do I even exist?”), and the mysterious harmony of emotional connection (“Oh, to touch something inside of you and outside of you at the same time”). “Celebration” is spoken poetry over music, a tribute to the power of everyday independence in little things, like shutting the lights off by yourself.

 is Sprague’s ability to perfectly capture the imperfect nature of the world; the paradox of sadness in happy places, and happiness in sad ones. In “Shadow Bloom”, Sprague sings of the “spirit realm”, the place in her mind where she goes to be one with her darkness. She provides a glimmer of hope in acknowledging the light that can be found within these dark places of the mind. “It’s the dark part of me now, the part that knows what can be felt. It’s what our eyes see when we dream, beautiful things where the light comes from.” It’s the darkest parts of her mind that allow her to realize the full depth of emotion, and to understand the multitude of ways that there are to love and to be beautiful.

 provides solidarity and hope to wandering souls searching for their purpose in this world, which is to say it perfectly voices the loneliness and loss of identity we all experience at some point. It reminds us all that even in the times when we feel our lowest, there are things of beauty to be found, and that the world is waiting for us when we wish to return to it.

Review: Florist’s ‘Emily Alone’

 is a dynamic mix of sad boy lyrics and surf rock sounds, perfect for an early morning drive after a recent heartbreak. The band’s sound is solidified with this release, which arrived four years after the release of their first EP,

. YYYYY has a decidedly upbeat swing to it, following the band’s inspiration in beachy punk rock. The album also introduces vocalists other than lead singer Jason Yarger into the mix, including appearances by bassist and keyboardist Kevin Grimmett and an appearance by Bleached lead singer Jennifer Calvin.

The album chronicles a story of love and loss, with each song coming back to an all consuming, dangerous love that Yarger can’t seem to shake. The album opens with “Lula, I’m Not Mad,” the album’s first promotional single. The track’s catchy chorus and clean repeating guitar riff identifies it as the album’s naturally designated single. This track also comes to represent the entire album – raw, cutting lyrics paired with an upbeat drumbeat and music. The music video is fittingly angsty and alternative, featuring the band riding through scenic streets in a vintage car and a repeating shot of hipster shoes scrawled with the lyrics of the chorus.

“A Slow Death in Pacific Standard Time” tells the story of self destructive tendencies that arise from love, which Yarger describes as a “knife in my side.” “Smarter Ways of Saying It” slows the album down, providing the album’s one obvious downer track. The song is only one minute and five seconds long, lending it the impression of more of a thought than a completed song, in the best way possible. This track is simple, honest, and broken down, making it one of my favorites on the album.

“Ritalin” provides the one divergence from the theme of love and heartbreak, instead telling of a drug-fueled night spent with friends. While remaining an upbeat tempo, the song talks about drugs in a realistic light, referring to them as a way to “warm” his body and make him feel better while making him act in a way that makes him “hard to adore.” The album ends on “Halloween,” a self-deprecating and slightly comedic song referring to Yarger as a dead-beat college student who couldn’t get his shit enough together to remember Halloween or win back his lover’s affection.

The whole album reads as an ode to teenage angst – lust, love, drugs and debilitating heartbreak – specifically occurring in either the strip of Venice Beach or at a grungy basement party in LA. The consistency of this vibe creates a niche that HUNNY fills well, with the creative lyricism of songs like “Halloween” proving their originality in songwriting. This album transforms me into an alternative, Cali surfer version of the angsty teenager I never really stopped being and I’d say that getting to live this life for even the brief twenty-one minutes of this album’s run time is enough to make me say YES myself.

Review: HUNNY’s ‘Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.’

Most Arctic Monkeys fans can admit that the first time they listened to 

, they didn’t like it. With its slower tempos, crunchy guitar, and psychedelic organ accompanying Turner’s low croon, 

is an album that requires a certain mood to listen to: a hate-everyone-and-everything kind of mood. 

 is the Monkeys’ third album, following 

Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not

, two albums that told witty, punk rock tales of rebels traipsing small town UK streets. While 

 may lose the fast-paced tempo, it gains an honest lyricism that explores the darkest sections of lead singer and songwriter Alex Turner’s mind.

The album opens with “My Propeller,” a song that both pleads for a savior to act as Turner’s “propeller” by bringing him out of his depressed rut, and more crudely, is a metaphor for his penis, exploring his loneliness and lust. Lust is a theme throughout the album, one that Turner explores in detail. “Crying Lightning” is one of the album’s standout songs, telling the tale of a femme fatale in a convenience store with plenty of “pick and mix” for a lover to chew on. “Cornerstone” is arguably the strongest song on the album, describing the search for lost love through local bars. It contains some of my favorite Alex Turner lyrics. “And I elongated my lift home / Yeah I let him go the long way round / I smelt your scent on the seat belt / And kept my shortcuts to myself.” It’s details like these – the smell of a lover on the seat belt, the fascination with chewing pick and mix – that propel this album into a level of lyrical genius achievable only by Alex Turner.

Turner embodies mankind’s darker sides in “Dance Little Liar,” which tells of a cheating man caught in a web of lies he’s woven to keep his girlfriend from finding out. “The Jeweller’s Hands” closes the album with a story of a woman tempted into a doomed affair. It’s the first Monkeys song accompanied solely by keyboard, a foreshadowing to their most recent album 

, which Turner wrote on his piano. Turner delves into the character of a heartbroken lover in search for a woman to fix him. His songs are the musings of a man who, despite his attempts to create fictional characters, comes back to the same forlorn story again and again.

 brought about ten years ago today marked many firsts for Arctic Monkeys. It was the first time the band stepped out of their comfort zone of punk rock, collaborating with Josh Homme from Queens of the Stone Age. He took them into “the weird and the 

” desert of Joshua Tree to record their album and influenced their dive into psychedelic use of guitar and organ. It was the first of many masks that Turner would come to wear, from the stripped down honesty of 

. It was the first time the Monkeys proved themselves as a band that could camouflage into another, with a depth of skill that could carry them from punk to psychedelic to alternative rock and back again. On the ten year anniversary of 

 we can celebrate the album for what it was: the lovesick musings of a man who was just about to realize he was capable of changing the world.

Charlotte Collins