What is most striking about the album’s hot tempered and loving compositions – horns as hot as railroad tracks in the summer sun, drums as vicious as a lion’s incisors (I’m not even being hyperbolic) – is that there is a real sense of peril in the proceedings.
In shorthand, Alfred Howard has a great mind. In wanting to bother one of my favorite people, I decided to ask him about the carnival of terror that was 2016, the social relevance of Myspace, and the greatness of The Redwoods.
Her voice is like a balm for bruised hearts and people who think Dusty Springfield should have a statue out in front of the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame. There’s a definite nod toward Burt Bacharach and early sixties Hi-Fi standards in the way she plays and sings.
San Diego’s gnarly, wayfarer adorned, color mottled Splavender has been releasing aching sonnets of sun-soaked reflection since 2015. This year, we went bonkers over “Honeysuckle” (my neighbors can recite the lyrics even though they’ve never played the song on their own).
Here, the band – Katie Howard, Alex Packard, Sean Daly, and Grant Gilbert – deliver a seismic blow with their debut LP, ‘Heavy Angel’. A staggeringly urgent record that brick layers confidence, fearlessness, mercurial visuals, and barbed love.
Alfred Howard’s impression on San Diego music has been paramount. From being the scribe behind seven bands to writing anecdotal, jocular, and observant memoirs, the record collector and immensely talented artist has changed the topography of the city.
Free music, and more than 90 impromptu art galleries will fill Adams Avenue on Saturday, June 4 from noon until 8:00 p.m. Art Around Adams is not only free and open to all ages, but is a great opportunity to fight gentrification by visiting an actual neighborhood and partaking of the food, beverages, people, art and music.
With “Happy Birfday Jeff” colorfully crisscrossed against the hull of her guitar – if you don’t know, that shit is legendary – the Massachusetts native killed with a dedicated barrage of Jameson drinking and killer singing.
It’s an accessible, high-energy record that feels of Southern California spontaneity. If an LP could kick flip while spiking a can of Saint Archer, this would be the one.
Splavender’s cozy summer vibes emanate coastal breezes and surfboard wax. They are our favorite band in the Beach Malaise genre. Hailing from the sunscreen slacked shorelines of San Diego, the band is the perfect seaside cocktail of hushed, spectral vocals and chill instrumentation.