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The week’s essential new music, also including YAANG and jo from school. |
| Words: Hazel Blacher, Brad Sked, Isabel Kilevold | @ by Ingmar Chen |
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@ – ‘I Know You Are (But What Am I Thinking)’ |
Melodically not too far away from the maximalist, arpeggiated sprawl of an A.G. Cook production – but if it were reimagined for erudite woodland creatures rollicking in the tree trunks – ‘I Know You Are (But What Am I Thinking)’ is a playful splash of wacky, weird baroque folk artistry. The new track from the idiosyncratic Philly group @, a creative union between beekeeper Victoria Rose and computer programmer Stone Filipczak, arrived this week ahead of their sophomore album ‘Autosmile’, out today via 4AD. Pairing bright, clean production with sprightly melodic intricacies that weave between guitar and vocal lines with the virtuosic ease of some of songwriting’s greats, ‘I Know You Are (But What Am I Thinking)’ is a stunning, strange and sunny-sided offering from a duo doing it unlike anyone else right now. (Hazel Blacher) |
Soaring breakbeats and heaven-brushed synths come together for a rapturous flight of fuzzy, 90s indie-rave and reworked pop nostalgia on Dummy’s shimmering new single ‘N of 1’. Laying an enticing, ascendent trail of teasers in the lead up to their new album ‘do you love the colour of the sky?’ – out today via Polyvinyl Records – the LA quintet gloss up the Madchester and Stereolab-adjacent references of 2024’s ‘Free Energy’ with a newfound drone ethereality and aloof pop persuasion. Contrary to its airy, daydreaming and optimistic sonic feel, ‘N of 1’ lyrically deals in heavier themes, exploring societal complacency to the rapidly mounting digital surveillance that threatens our right to privacy. “‘N of 1’ is a plea to both the proprietors and the more complacent subjects of the ever-encroaching surveillance state.” Dummy’s Emma Maatman explains. “Typically our videos aren’t so direct of a visual representation of the meaning of the song, but I had just gotten it into my head that the zooming action on Street View would go perfectly with the meter and energy of the song, and the rest sort of fell into place after that.” (Hazel Blacher) |
Vehicle – ‘Miserable Vibes’ |
Leeds quartet Vehicle deliver once again on their newest offering ‘Miserable Vibes’, out now via local label Esco Romanesco. The band also come bearing news of a new album ‘Fumes’ due for release in spring 2027, the follow up to their 2025 debut ‘Widespread Vehicle’. ‘Miserable Vibes’ opens with delightfully dishevelled Americana jangle enveloped in lead vocalist Michael Cable’s Lou Reed-like croon. Channelling The Velvet Underground before metamorphosing into glorious, sun-drenched indie-garage-pop a la Teenage Fanclub or Pavement, with a hint of Black Lips, the track is a whiskey swigging, real good time. Vehicle will head to the capital on the 5th November for a show at The Elephant’s Head, playing alongside Delivery, so we get ‘Delivery Vehicle’ as a line-up, which is nice to say. (Brad Sked) |
Dance-punk party starters and staunch beloveds to Manchester’s flourishing grassroots scene YAANG have returned with epic new single ‘Leech’. A thumping, dancefloor stampede of chugging guitar muscle and anthemic choruses voraciously screeched by singer Davey Moore, ‘Leech’ is fun as fuck, and badass while it’s doing it. A track that explores the emotional chasm between the calm of sobriety and the chaos of inebriation, ‘Leech’ has “been a live staple since it was written”, the band explain. “This is our Dancefloor call – you should make the most of it because we won’t ask twice”. You can catch YAANG on tour at the end of this month – the band will be stopping off in London at The Old Blue Last on the 29th October. (Hazel Blacher) |
jo from school – ‘Living Room’ |
On ‘Living Room’, jo from school settles into the soft, warm light of a dimly lit living room, where the evening stretches on, and the world outside begins to fall away. Folk-tinged strings curl around a warm guitar melody, whilst a slow drum rhythm keeps time beneath. The vocals are delicate and close, carrying the song with an unvarnished tenderness. There is a looseness to the recording, lending the song the feeling of a shared moment rather than a polished performance. Beneath that gentleness, a quiet melancholy lingers. “You learn about shame, and it keeps on coming” cuts through the warmth with a plainspoken honesty, capturing the uncomfortable persistence of feelings we never quite leave behind. Yet the song never sinks into its sadness. Its soft strings and steady rhythm leave space for a kind of comfort, the sort found in familiar rooms and late conversations. ‘Living Room’ feels both delicate and grounded, holding its vulnerability in the same gentle light that makes it bearable. (Isabel Kilevold) |
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