Фирма Dead Océans

This is Kevin's opus, a concept album on spirituality and religion. Throughout his four solo albums and myriad records of various collaboration, Kevin Morby has recognized in his work the ubiquity of an apparent religious theme. Though not identifying as "religious" in the slightest, Morby - the globetrotting son of Kansas City who has made music while living on both coasts before recently returning to his Midwestern stomping grounds - recognizes in himself a somewhat spiritual being with a secular attitude towards the soulful. And so, in an effort to tackle that notion head-on and once-and-for-all, he sat down in his form of church - on planes and in beds - and wrote what would become his first true concept-album: the lavish, resplendent, career-best double LP Oh My God. This one feels full circle, my most realized record yet," he says. "It's cohesive piece; all the songs fit under the umbrella of this weird religious theme. I was able to write and record the album I wanted to make. It's one of those marks of a life: this is why I slept on floors for seven years. I've now gotten the keys to my own little kingdom, and I'm devoting so much of my life to music that I just want to keep it interesting. At the end of the day, the only thing I don't want is to be bored. If someone wants to get in my face about writing a nonreligious religious record? Thank god. That's all I gotta say."

Deluxe edition 2xLP set includes two exclusive tracks + a reworking of Don't Let My Marigolds Die. Bill Fay returns with the third album in the celebrated second phase of his recording career. A prime Fay song is a deceptively simple thing which c

Have We Met, as Dan Bejar puts it, `came together in such a crazy way - all equal parts ecstasy and terror'. Initially conceived (but quickly ditched) as a Y2K album, Bejar was without a clear concept in mind. So he said "fuck it" and let it all rip while brainstorming at home. Culled from years' worth of saved writing, set aside for projects "beyond music," and recorded at his kitchen table, Have We Met harkens back to Kaputt-era Dan stringing together lyrics off hand while lounging on his couch. The resulting vocal sound exists in the sweet spot between two Destroyer worlds colliding: hints of the past, more strident Destroyer mixed in with a relaxed, new-aged Crooning one

Don't You Think You've Had Enough? is what Jennifer Clavin asked herself when she hit a turning point in her life. It's also the title of the new record from Bleached, Jessie and Jennifer Clavin's first LP written from a place of sobriety. That new

Isolation is nothing new for Fenne Lily - in fact, she's Written an album of songs all about it. "It's kind of like writing a letter, and leaving it in a book that you know you'll get out when you're sad - like a message to yourself in the future," she says, referring to BREACH, her Dead Oceans debut she wrote during a period of self-enforced isolation pre-COVID. It's an expansive, diaristic, frequently sardonic record that deals with the mess and the catharsis of entering your 20s and finding peace while being alone. "I think this record is proof that I can be emotionally stable, even if right now I feel a little bit up and down," says Fenne. "There's the ability to find clarity in that. It's sobering, weirdly." Fenne was born in London and moved to Dorset as a toddler, where she grew up in the picturesque English countryside. She was a "free range kid," as she calls it, after her parents took her out of school for a period at the age of seven. Over the following year, they taught her while the family travelled Europe in a live-in bus. Even after she returned to traditional school at 9, her home education never ended, extending to music. Her mother gifted Fenne with her old record collection, through which she discovered her love for T-Rex and the Velvet Underground and Nico. Soon after she fell for the strange Genius of PJ Harvey and came to worship Nick Drake, Joni Mitchell, and the richly crafted worlds of Feist, which inspired Fenne to pick up a guitar. It's that journey to find peace inside herself that underpins the whole of Fenne's second album. Its title, BREACH, occurred to Fenne after deep conversations with her mum about her birth, during which she was breech, or upside down in the womb. The slippery double-sidedness of the word - which, spelled with an "A", means to "break through" - drew her in. "That feels like what I was doing in this record; I was breaking through a wall that I built for myself, keeping myself safe, and dealing with the downside of feeling lonely and alone. I realized that I am comfortable in myself, and I don't need to fixate on relationships to make myself feel like I have something to talk about. I felt like I broke through a mental barrier in that respect." Even though it also carries implications of awkwardness, rebellion, and breakage, it's a widereaching word, representing new beginnings and birth.

A lone pair of footsteps meanders down a street in Omaha, into the neighborhood bar and then into a near-imperceptible tangle of conversations - about wars, sleepless nights - a surrealist din pushing against the sound of ragtime. Then, as the background quiets, a line rings out clearly: "I think about how much people need - what they need right now is to feel like there's something to look forward to. We have to hold on. We have to hold on." Thus we enter the fitting, cacophonic introduction to Bright Eyes' tenth studio album and first release since 2011. Down in the Weeds, Where the World Once Was is an enormous record caught in the profound in-between of grief and clarity - one arm wrestling its demons, the other gripping the hand of love, in spite of it. The end of Bright Eyes' unofficial hiatus came naturally. Conor Oberst pitched the idea of getting the band back together during a 2017 Christmas party at Bright Eyes bandmate Nathaniel Walcott's Los Angeles home. The two huddled in the bathroom and called Mike Mogis, who was Christmas shopping at an Omaha mall. Mogis immediately said yes. There was no specific catalyst for the trio, aside from finding comfort amidst a decade of brutal change. Sure, Why now? is the question, but for a project whose friendship is at the core, it was simply Why not? The resulting Bright Eyes album came together unlike any other of its predecessors. Down in the Weeds is Bright Eyes' most collaborative, stemming from only one demo and written in stints in Omaha and in bits and pieces in Walcott's Los Angeles home. Radically altering a writing process 25 years into a project seems daunting, but Oberst said there was no trepidation: "Our history and our friendship, and my trust level with them, is so complete and deep. And I wanted it to feel as much like a three-headed monster as possible." As a title, as a thesis, Down in the Weeds, Where the World Once Was functions on a global, apocalyptic level of anxiety that looms throughout the record. But on a personal level, it speaks to rooting around in the dirt of one's memories, trying to find the preciousness that's overgrown and unrecognizable. For Oberst, coming back to Bright Eyes was a bit of that. A symbol of simpler times, vaguely nostalgic. And even though it wasn't actually possible to go back to the way things were, even though there wasn't an easy happy ending, there was a new reality left to work with. And here, there is a bleary-eyed hopefulness - earnest, emotive recommitments to love appear on "Dance and Sing" and "Just Once in the World." And throughout, Down in the Weeds features snippets of Oberst's loved ones speaking, in late-night conversations. The fleeting loveliness of intimate moments punctuates the bleakness of the record's existential crisis, crackling like lightning bugs illuminating the long night. Down in the Weeds is a distillation of a prolific, enduring canon. It's immediate and urgent, the product of its creators' growth across a decade apart, as well as the need to make a record together to find solace from loss. Through deliberate, fearless experimentation in process, the trio made the truest Bright Eyes sound: the sound of a deep bond, of a band coming home, but also a seamless continuation, like Bright Eyes never went away. It's the impossible, sprawling mess of human experience that Bright Eyes has always sought to put to tape, since the beginning - the sound of holding on. Why now? Why not

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Indie Rock

Singer/Songwriter

Indie Rock

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BLUE/YELLOW SWIRL

4-PANEL GATEFOLD WALLET WITH FOLDED LYRIC INSERT

.. TROUBLE /CLEAR/ORANGE COLOURED VINYL