It’s been a minute since I’ve published one of these columns (though I did write a new Dollar Bin column on Patreon!) – March was a wild ride, April looks even more relentless. But I’ve been listening to so much music, I had to get some of this out for Bandcamp Friday. There’s nothing new on The Jewel Garden today, but use code ‘relentless’ for 20% off anything.
Bryn Davis Sometimes Things Change (Edições CN)
Sometimes Things Change unfolds like a sonic “day in the life,” where musical moments emerge from the banal, the unexpected, and the dizzying. Minneapolis-based musician and composer Davis stitches together a rich tapestry of familiar sounds: warm static, electronic machine bleeps, bird calls, intercom announcements, and footsteps, immersing us in a world both recognizable and uncanny. This familiarity, juxtaposed with bursts of arrhythmic percussion and pitched vocal samples, creates a sense of unease that is as surprising as it is welcome. Davis pulls us between realities, blurring the lines between the tangible and the imagined while holding onto the ether. Harsh repetitions like a CD skipping in exclamation snap our focus back to the present. The memories may be hazy, but on Sometimes Things Change, they are eternal. An intoxicating flow of sound.
Jason Calhoun + Foresteppe “A Four Part Cure” (Florabelle)
A Four Part Cure feels like a miracle just for making it to the end. Across four captivating pieces, the world Calhoun and Foresteppe create seems ready to crumble into dust at any moment. Each gentle chord progression like piano notes falling like leaves from dormant trees stretches the tendrils of sound to a fragile breaking point. Yet, in this delicacy, a sonic embrace takes shape, built from vulnerability to form something both tender and enduring. Birdsong flutters above, footsteps echo in the distance; reminders of the eternal traces we leave behind. Bass notes ground the flickering guitar and resonant emptiness, tethering them to the world. But in wistful, melodic drifts, we still find reflections and dreams. A Four Part Cure carries a quiet reassurance, its fractured nature revealing a space to gather the pieces, rebuild, and, with intention, begin anew. Remarkable.
Sophie Agnel Song (Relative Pitch)
Urgency builds within the unfolding narratives of Song, Sophie Agnel’s latest piano work. Prepared techniques expand the instrument’s textural palette across these seven pieces, yet a singular thread winds through the rattling sprees and angular melodies. Low-end rumbles spell out doom in patterned codes, while bowed notes stretch to their breaking point against high-frequency shadows. Agnel maintains a taut cadence, shifting between irregular striations and bristling pomp, keeping our ears sharp and emotions raw. Hypnotic voices fade into the mix, heightening the drama, but at its core, Song is a work of striking vulnerability and unforgettable resonance.
Ahmed Ag Kaedy & Will Guthrie Tidawt (Self-Released)
The collaboration between Malian guitarist Ahmed Ag Kaedy and drummer Will Guthrie is a fractured yet deeply warm embrace. Their connection is palpable with sinewy tendrils weaving between restrained yet propulsive rhythms and skeletal, emotive melodies. Ag Kaedy’s Tuareg roots burn through every corner of Tidawt, but Guthrie’s framing adds a graceful fluidity, shaping passages that feel both timeless and razor-sharp. Melodic repetitions breathe like a living organism. Ag Kaedy’s voice rises across malleable sonic patterns, laid-back and reflective at times, cathartic and piercing at others, always met by Guthrie’s purposeful drumming. This is music of sunlit skies and endless horizons.
Electrogong Unstruck Resonance (Skunt Productions)
Past and future dissolve into hollowed-out tonal juggernauts with Electrogong (aka Aaron Osbourne) at the helm. Utilizing modular synthesis and electroacoustic percussion, Osbourne channels winding, breathing sonic formations through a network of gongs and transducers, giving Unstuck Resonance its distinct sonic fingerprint. Metallic drones unfurl like tendrils, intertwining with electronic resonances filtering smoke-filled air. Modular-generated frequencies howl in the cracks, buoyed by bowed metal and scorched harmonics. Low-end oscillations awaken with a guttural growl, intensifying into pointed pulses that hint at an impending void, an unspoken urgency woven into the fabric of the music. Bonus points for the incredible cover art by Travis Millard, too.
John Krausbauer & Kaori Suzuki Dream Visions of the Illumined Axis (Debacle)
The first half of Dream Visions of the Illumined Axis is euphoric—a sharpened gold drone blooming from a bed of metal and reeds. Krausbauer and Suzuki move with clarity and intent, rising and falling like a slow, cosmic breath aligned with the harmony of the spheres. The sound is overwhelming to the point of tears; a searing catharsis unfolding in glacial motion. Then comes the exhalation: roaring percussion tears through the sun-bleached veil. An organ still anchors the center, but washes of rhythm spiral outward, boundless and wild. It feels like reconciliation with the universe, the moment we become light and scatter our atoms across every dimension. This is pure ecstasy.
Maryam Kiani The New Normal (Low Versions)
Dystopian atmospheres creep into the frame, stretched across intricate rhythms, ethereal harmonics, and bass-heavy phantoms. The New Normal is relentless; a forcefield-breaking fever dream of persistent forward motion. Pulses evolve into fully-formed architecture, binding sinewy electronics to melodic oddities. Kiani conjures snaking patterns with surreal sound design and visions of transcendence, weaving a cerebral undercurrent through the foundation-shaking beats and syncopated voices. It’s a dense, heady album at its core, yet effortlessly danceable and immersive. Kiani fires up our synapses without us even realizing, making me believe that even at the end of it all, there will still be clubs pulsing under the glow of fractured neon.
Alberto Novello & Rob Mazurek Sun Eaters (Hive Mind)
I often imagine what it would be like to explore an alien planet teeming with unrecognizable life. Sun Eaters transforms that vision into sound—shockwave rhythms, skeletal melodies, and immersive sonic landscapes. Electronics crackle at the edges, tracing the contours where ghostly trumpet runs leave breadcrumbs through neon debris and spectral forms. The fusion of organic and electronic textures is dizzying; Novello’s synthetic bursts spiral into dissonant frenzies, while Mazurek’s brass resonance stirs up golden dust. All the while, a steady pulse anchors these skyward sonic acrobatics to the living mud. Sun Eaters is a wild, wondrous journey worth taking.
Ótal Heyr (Self-Released)
Ótal tears open the sunrise on Heyr, as rain scatters its elegiac soundforms across the landscape. Electronic vistas emerge from swirling sonic clouds, tracing the first light of dawn while each passing moment refracts like glass. Modular synth drones shimmer with soft illumination, stretching skyward, while playful, bouncing tones hint at hidden messages, these secrets embedded within the music itself. Synthesized voices carve out ethereal spaces, their airy inflections morphing into an aural mirror, reflections drifting weightlessly toward the sun. Aqueous field recordings expand the album’s textural palette, infusing life and movement into its restrained harmonic worlds.
