I'm a child of the 90's, but predictably didn't learn to appreciate its bounty of music until a decade after the fact. In any case, this scribe's angsty teenage years were filled to the brim with, y'know, appropriately angsty music. From Soundgarden, to Mudhoney, to RHCP, to Silver Chair, to Tool, to Our Lady Peace, and far beyond, my formative days were crammed with rockin' riffs and the gritty melancholic tirades of the era. Given a heartfelt love for that grunge-infected generation of rock, I was exceptionally excited by the opportunity to premiere Static, the debut EP from Melbourne's very talented Canyon. 

On paper, this power trio plays a blend o' alt metal, stoner rock, and prog. In practice, that description certainly feels accurate, but their tunes are notably imbued with a grungy flair. Or, y'know, the dour equivalent of flair. Back in Oct. of last year, when we reviewed Insane, this EP's lead single, we stated that if felt "caught in the amber of 90's headbang fodder," while simultaneously displaying a high level of maturity. I'm please to report that the entire EP follows suit...but you hardly have to take my word for it. Give Static a listen in full below. We'll catch ye on the other side of the y2k divide.

Alright, picture this. It’s another friday night at your prototypical dive--you know the scene. 80’s wood paneling, scabby pool table, cardboard coasters. Cigarette butts litter the bathroom floors. Bad lighting. Cheap beer and urinal cakes. Two or three dead soldiers on the table already, with room for more. The band moves in, sets up, and launches into a boisterous set. It should be a normal night.

But it isn’t, because the band is Brandy and the Butcher. You don’t know ‘em now, but you’ll know 'em soon. By the first few notes, they have your attention. By the chorus, everyone stares in bewilderment. By the time the first song rolls to an end, accompanied by raucous applause, everyone in the damn room has swiftly come to the same conclusion: this is, by far, the best entertainment this bar has ever seen. Practically leaps and bounds beyond the typical rocker mold. This is exactly how quality rock 'n' roll should make you feel. In a word: invigorated.

To draw you back to the here and now, we slumbering Villagers are honored to premiere Dick Circus, the latest effort from these talented South Carolinians. Fire it up below, and we'll meet ye, as always, on the other side!​​

We slumbering peasantry tend to grumble and complain about the back-breaking labor involved in this review-writin' trade, but this profession isn't marked solely by a surplus of sweat and tears. When encountering hordes of new music and bands on a daily basis, there are many moments of pure and unbridled excitement--and nothing is more invigorating than a brand new band that positively reeks of potential. Such is the case with today's (one man!) crew in question: Philadelphia's Mothman and the Thunderbirds. The sheer fact alone that this single track has garnered a bevy of reviews from our neighboring blogs and publications should be indication of the promise, and we haven't even got to the damn music yet.

To review such a track is exciting, but to premiere one is a genuine honor. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, give "Nomad" a listen below! We'll meet ye on the other side.

Y'know what I find so endlessly endearing and intriguing about Connecticut's own Turkey Vulture? Despite a lack of released tunes in the grand scheme--indeed, the tracks herein account for, like, half of their discography--this duo consistently brings startlingly fresh ideas. Every track to their name is a new take, an exciting conglomerate of seemingly non-adjacent influences.

In other words: if invention is a product, Turkey Vulture produce it with an admirable fervor. Mixing olde-timey Americana with aggressively studded punk, morose grunge, and sludgey hard rock shouldn't, frankly, work as well as they make it. We’ve reviewed both their debut EP and a followup single, so if three reviews ain’t good enough reason to check ‘em out, I’m not sure how to help ye out of your particular predicament.

Intro aside: let's get to tunes, shall we? We're honored to present here today--in full!--a premiere of Time To Pay, Turkey Vulture's latest (and greatest) EP. That's right. Four banging tracks, fresh off the press. Eat ‘em up while they’re still hot. It's damn good, but don't just take my word for it!

I obviously don't know about the particulars of your, well, particular locale, but this afternoon at Ye Olde Sleeping Village, feels like the first real summer day of the year. The sun is out. It's hot, and bright, and sweaty as hell. As such, because I enjoy aesthetic uniformity (perhaps a tad too much,) a soundtrack to fit said atmosphere would do nicely.

Enter Veins of Mosquito, a Floridian instrumental outfit that boasts a self-described sound ranging from "psychedelic to hard rock to grunge." These guys have put out several albums over the past few years, and have a new one on the way--arriving, in fact, tomorrow, May 25th. Immediately preceding said release is the excellent "Celebration," the track leering before ye now. For those unfamiliar with their earlier output, "Celebration" (and, one can only presume, Hemogoblin as a whole,) has a significantly crisper feel--still grungy, still damp, but a little cleaner cut 'round the edges. It's a great track, and before drive you away with incessant chatter, I highly recommend you give it a listen below!