Jump, Little Children: Cathedrals

Shortly after 9/11, a friend of mine heard a drag queen perform Cathedrals by Jump, Little Children at an open mic night in New York. Her retelling of the scene was so vivid that ever since then, I have associated the song with the aftermath of that day, as well as the message I saw scrawled on a dusty car in Lower Manhattan: You can knock us down, but you can’t knock us out.

Our hearts and thoughts are with you, Paris, and Beirut, and all the places where terrible people have done such awful things.

Jump Little Children - Cathedrals

Trick Mist, Jars in Rows


Trick Mist is Gavin Murray, Irishman residing in Manchester, England. Jars in Rows is his debut EP, and it’s an unusual but awesome fusion of electronica/experimental noise and traditional Irish sounds.

Here are some examples:

Tampering Happy, was made with a violin he found in a trashcan he found outside his apartment – in pristine condition! – which is – ok, bear with me here – a bit like a sea shanty, deconstructed and filtered through a film noir lens.

Your Brass Angel is a spare, delicate, tune, shot through with steady shimmery tones, balanced by clacks and pings and the solid basso of his voice. It’s hard to describe, other than to say I really enjoyed sitting in his tiny oddly decorated Buckyball of sound.

AF THE NAYSAYER feat. Shizuku Kawahara, R-96

AF THE NAYSAYER is one of my favorite beatmakers, and he’s back again with a new tune. R-96 is a collaboration with Shizuku Kawahara of tinörks. It’s a rollercoaster, but a very chill one.

Check it out:

Also, special alert to our Southern readers, he’s helping Step Pepper Records celebrate their 5th birthday tomorrow (Saturday, Nov. 14) in Birmingham, AL, so get out and join the party if you can.

Eskimo Brothers, Two

Two, the second record from Eskimo Brothers, is one of life’s small, uncomplicated pleasures.

A rockabilly pleasure, specifically, songs about hard drinkin’ and hard lovin’ shot through with the steady thrum of the upright bass and hip-shaker guitars.

For example: Sweethearts and Bars, which, well, it’s exactly what it says on the tin:

Another one I like: A Lie Called Love, for all the cynical romantics out there:

And then finally there’s the occasional cross-genre reinterpretation of a classic, by which I mean their version of Fat Bottom Girls filled me with rude glee:

Two Songs From: Violet Days

So the first thing I have to tell you is before my first listen to Screaming Colors I misread “Violet Days” as “Violent Days” and was expecting something a lot meaner and thrashier.

That said, once I had clicked play, I was surprised, but not disappointed. Lina Hansson has a beautiful voice and they collectively have a solid grasp of how to build a pop song.

Here’s Screaming Colors, to help you grab your Monday by the throat:

And So Dope, which is for anyone who has had a relationship that was awesome, until it was terrible, to which you would return any time:

braeyden jae, botched communion

Painting by Andrew Alba

Painting by Andrew Alba

Among the many benefits of being subscribed to Warren Ellisnewsletter is that sometimes he includes a music section.

It was there, this week, that I found botched communion, by braeyden jae, and on listening to it, wanted to share it with y’all.

There are only two songs. Closed Visions features soothing church-organ and church bells as a background to guitars so fuzzed out they almost sound like chainsaws; this song goes on for 10 full minutes and is awesome.

Cannot Reach has slightly brighter, cleaner tones winding through the buzzsaws, and is also delightful.

My Dear Mother, David C. Clements


There are certain metaphors I abuse. Most of them are nautical. One is lepidopterological: I tend to think of musicians in the studio as caterpillars in a chrysalis, or, more accurately, in a cocoon. And fans as the tenders of these cocoons, sitting outside, waiting for a sparkly wing to emerge.

David C. Clements has been in a cocoon for a very long time, and yesterday, a delicate wing popped out: My Dear Mother, his first EP in two years.

Four songs, two new (My Dear Mother, When We Go), one alternate version of an earlier tune (On The Border), one interpretation of a Neil Young tune (Philadelphia), all collectively a teaser for a record coming early next year.

The whole thing is awesome – the new/old version of On the Border is slower, but more expansive; there’s some muscle to it, now – but here are the two new ones:

My Dear Mother, the title track, and an excellent introduction to his style, i.e. catchy shuffle-sway beat, sing-along chorus, lyrics that will tear at you. (Front rows of Norther Ireland: if you aren’t dancing to this, I’m giving you some serious squinch-face.)

When We Go, which shows off his range and flexible voice. Apparently this one is a fan favorite, and well, I can see why, because I also love it when he cuts loose and goes for it:

The By Gods, On the Radio

The By Gods. Photo by Bradley Spitzer

The By Gods. Photo by Bradley Spitzer


After a week of dream-folk (and unending rain, these things may be connected) I need some sunshine, and/or some aggressive guitars. Enter The By Gods, of Nashville, with On The Radio, from their upcoming record Get On Feelings.

I like this song / the record because:

The local radio stations here are, shall we say, limited, and I’ve chosen Classic Rock as the lesser of a selection of evils, but I still spend a lot of time muttering “Sweet fancy Moses, NOT RUSH AGAIN.” Sure, I can plug my phone into my car (see also: today in sentences I never expected to write) but that is kind of not the point. The By Gods are the perfect fuzzy ragged antidote to being deeply irritated by very old prog rock and super gross unfunny “morning zoo” radio programming.

All excellent: My Way (NOT a cover of the Sinatra classic of the same name) and Let Me Go.

Twin Limb, Don’t Even Think

Twin Limb, of Louisville, KY, are also a dream-folk band. Their sound is a hair more aggressive than Wickerbird – meatier, if you will — but still pretty mellow.

This is Don’t Even Think, from their upcoming EP Anything is Possible and Nothing Makes Sense, scheduled to be unleashed upon the world next week.

It’s a solid tune, with lovely vocals and a tempo that is just the right side of seductive; it is, in short, excellent company.

Wickerbird, The Leaf Maker


It’s been a little while since we last checked in with Wickerbird (Blake Cowan), and in that time he’s made some more music, inclding his most recent release, The Leaf Maker.

His sound is still dream-folk, but these songs seem more . . . mature, I guess. Better constructed, perhaps; the instruments blend seamlessly with the samples of birdsong and rushing water to create an atmosphere of reflective melancholy.

That makes the whole thing sound grim, doesn’t it. This is not a grim record! Sad and lovely, yes; depressing, no. It is, I think, comfort food for souls who do not especially mind being left to their own devices for extended periods of time.

For example, here’s The Coppice/A Haunting, which sounds like a late afternoon walk by a creek running high:

And Sail Cloth, which sounds like a small boat gliding through an arch of trees towards rough water:

In conclusion: Sepulchre, or, a murder of crows rises and wheels across the sky, headed out of the valley – but they’ll be back, they always are, because this is home.