Lick on my clit! Make this pussy cream! Do this motherfucker how you do them Russian creams… These deliriously depraved opening lines, whispered close to my ear by Xiu Xiu’s Jamie Stewart over halfway through their new cover album, Xiu Mutha Fuckin’ Xiu: Vol. 1, released today by Polyvinyl Records, made me stop short mid-run. … Continue reading
Every great album should come with a jumpscare. A moment that makes you stumble a little on a run, stop short on a walk, and jerk your head up when blasting it at home. On Anna von Hausswolff’s phenomenal new album ICONOCLASTS, that jumpscare comes in the form of Iggy Pop’s craggy, trembling bellow, loudly … Continue reading
There is a tornado at the heart of Ethel Cain’s new album, Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You, a storm of such Southern Gothic biblical proportions that it rivals the foreboding flood that heralds the foretold birth of Elvis and his dead twin on Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ “Tupelo.” The tempest rolls in slowly … Continue reading
Xiu Xiu is fun. I know fun isn’t likely the right word; playful is closer. Yet, I enjoy the cognitive dissonance of using the word “fun” to describe a band that has, since its aughts genesis, plumbed the depths of trauma, depravity, shame basements, and the morbid mixture of sheer abrasiveness and tightly wound near-nervous … Continue reading