Tim Hecker - 'Virgins'

Tim Hecker - 'Virgins'

Nicole: Tim Hecker strikes again with the first taste of his next album out in October, Virgins: "Virginal II." Coming down from the high that Majical Cloudz intoxicated me with last weekend, my listening habits all week have gone in a serious, borderline creepy direction. This Hecker track is no less haunting -- the chime-like piano loop in the beginning sounds straight out of a murder scene, then fuzzes out into a beautiful, rhythmic churning of synths. Calling himself both a musician and sound artist, Tim Hecker has worked with Brooklyn-based experimental artist Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never), and has also remixed Isis, so I imagine that he would make for a great movie score composer, if he hasn't done so already.

Ben: This week felt like a big one for new albums, but so far it's Disappears' Era that has caught the bulk of my attention. "Power" is a monster of a song, a heavy slab of convulsing gloom-Kraut. The guitar tone here is fucking spectacular -- whatever combination of pedals sculpted this sound, it's a winning formula -- and it's well-paired with Brian Case's deep snarl. The Chicago band's upcoming show at The Chapel with Weekend and Wymond Miles now seems like even more of a must-attend than it was before.

Jason: Every once in awhile, Russell Jelinek will send me an email about a new band or track that he thinks I'd be interested in, even if he doesn't have the bandwidth to write about it, and I got one of those emails again last week, this time about New Bums, the new project from Ben Chasny (Six Organs of Admittance) and Donovan Quinn. Once again, Russell pegged my musical tastes -- all week, I've been listening to "The Killers and Me", the maddeningly short opening track off the duo's debut Slim Volume 7-inch, and can't wait to get my hands on a copy of the actual vinyl. Listen to the track below, and try not to get too angry when it cuts out after a downright Tony Molina-esque one minute and forty-one seconds.

Zack: Last night, I managed to somehow end up in Los Angeles at a designer boutique for an invite-only listening party to celebrate the forthcoming release of Chelsea Wolfe's newest LP, Pain Is Beauty (due out September 3 on Sargent House). About as scene as it can get (think tattoos and expensive black clothes and free, low-quality wine), and the album, from what I could make out amidst the chatter, is a gloomy and sweeping affair with the Sacramento native's haunting vocals laid overtop. Now living in Los Angeles, Wolfe's Sacramento origin is enough to keep me rooting for her — for everyone else, it looks like there's a damn good album on the horizon.

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