Some records politely ask for your attention; the "Moss E.P" from MOSS just sets a small, contained fire on your coffee table and waits for you to feel the heat. It is an immediate and strangely familiar atmosphere, like a half-remembered David Lynch dream scored with the staticky pulse of 90s trip-hop. Bee Davison's voice cuts through this hypnotic haze, not as a lament,...

There is a specific kind of quiet you find in the Midwest, and listening to Derby Hill and his self-titled release, "Derby Hill", feels like stumbling into that quiet after a long, noisy shift. It’s not the silence of emptiness; it’s the silence of after. After the argument, after the paycheck clears, after the sun goes down over the Detroit skyline or a Chicago...