Giliann's Newsletter
Posts
We Come to this Place for Magic

We Come to this Place for Magic

On feeling invisible, BCNR's rebrand, and blissing out at Cameron Winter.

Giliann Karon
April 01, 2025

New Music March:

Surely lots of stuff came out this month, but I wouldn’t know because I didn’t listen. I have mostly been busy listening to Bankrupt! by Phoenix. That album arc ran concurrent to the Arctic Monkeys/Vampire Weekend/Lorde/The 1975 ecosystem of 2013. It’s siblings with Reflektor by Arcade Fire and cousins with Modern Vampires of the City.

Still, I am exactly like other girls, meaning I’ve been paying MJ Lenderman’s rent with his version of This is Lorelei’s "Dancing in the Club,” the lead single off a deluxe version of Box For Buddy, Box For Star. Two queens linking up to maximize their joint slay. Sparse instrumentals replace dreamy synths in a different strain of visceral. The track weighs heavy with defeatism, this time laid bare by somber guitar, not obscured by twinkly flourishes. It’s one of 11 songs featuring collaborations with friends and family (including Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan), which out April 25 via Double Double Whammy.

Both Momma and The Ophelias released new singles yesterday. Their respective albums, Welcome to My Blue Sky (Polyvinyl) and Spring Grove (Get Better Records), are out this Friday.

Black Country, New Road released “For the Cold Country,” the third single off their upcoming album, Forever Howlong. A primer for those unfamiliar with the lore: they arrived on the South London scene in 2019 and ushered in a dazzling post-punk revival closely associated with the Windmill, a venue in Brixton. A blend of seven classically trained art school kids and self-taught players, their synergy garnered them a devoted cult following from laypeople and critics alike. Isaac Wood’s melancholic vocals stitched together luscious violin and dazzling saxophone.

Primal yet ferociously disciplined, their mystique flashed as bright as a shooting star, and exploded just as quickly. Days before releasing their second album, Ants from Up There, Wood announced his departure, citing his mental health. The six-piece wrote entirely new material with a rotating cast of singers.

Save bootleg recordings, Live From Bush Hall is the only digital marker of their new identity. I’ve seen the new lineup thrice, each time piecing together who they are and who they seek to become. Their new pastoral sound continues to evolve, incorporating elements of baroque pop and folk. After Black Midi’s dissolution dealt the scene a final death blow, I suppose it’s better for BCNR to embrace something new instead of creating music for a world that no longer exists.

march 02

Playlist · giliann · 24 items

open.spotify.com/playlist/6Gf3Pvl0OF1C86P1s9O5NM?si=dffa443ffb6c4549

This Month in Shows:

Since I was laid off in January, I’ve becoming increasingly picky with the shows I purchase tickets to. Luckily, the latest string of shows have all been free.

On the flip side, I’m often only loosely familiar with the artist. A few weeks ago, Australian indie rock band Skegss played a sold out show at Warsaw. I entered the space as an observer instead of a participant. I thought I had disappeared until I ran into a loose acquaintance. My cozy shroud of of privacy briefly unraveled before I excused myself to look at merch.

My platform boots and VIP sticker were giving “drummer’s girlfriend” until I realized nobody gaf. When the lights went down, I became invisible again. The rowdy audience shifted into gear and I followed suit. The crowd of mostly dudes erupted with pent-up excitement, not chauvinism. I devoured their candid joy and surrendered my limbs to the pit. I realized I had gained access to spaces full of people I didn’t know existed. My world expanded and I became peacefully insignificant.

The following night, I saw Maruja at Market Hotel, a band I had no prior knowledge of besides skimming the press materials. In October, Alt Press named them one of 5 rising artists to know this month. Neville Hardman called their performances “unruly live shows akin to an exorcism.” This blindness was a choice; I received the invite over a month ago.

Obscured by smoke and Market Hotel’s pillars (btw, this venue is weird as shit. I can’t believe this is what people talk about), I compartmentalized them as Black Country New Road’s evil twin. For the First Time era, of course.

Piercing saxophone ripped through growling drums. Small pits opened and collapsed. Each gurgling jazzy blended into the next, briefly punctuated by a “Free Palestine” chant. I had a different type of fun than the die-hard heads near the stage, but I think the way people can leave the same space with a massive range of experiences is part of music’s power.

The best show this month was Cameron Winter in a gallery in SoHo. I stood between some NYU students for an hour and a half. The girl in front of me serving y2k realness said she liked my skirt. I’ve never seen The Substance, but I guess I don’t need to.

I nearly ran out of patience and left, but thank god I didn’t. He sat in front of a grand piano and the crowd gathered around him:

Fig. 1

I couldn’t see shit, but that didn’t matter. A fuzzy warmth crept up my body and I sank into the edible, which I perfectly timed. Lanky and disarming, Winter led his reverent congregation in “Drinking Age” and “Cancer of the Skull,” plus some unreleased music. Each hallowed note wafted through the high ceilings and lingered from the rafters. The crowd stood silent until each song ended, upon which they burst into an exalting applause.

What I’ve Written:

Cryogeyser - "Cryogeyser" | Album Review

Ela Minus Is Finding Her Path

Frog - "1000 Variations on the Same Song" | Album Review

Fust | Feature Interview

HotWax Continue To Move In New Directions

Interview: Art d’Ecco

Interview: Wishy

Momma - Welcome to My Blue Sky

Upcoming Shows:

Taxidermists: Trans-Pecos, April 3

The Ophelias: The Broadway, April 5