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New Snail’s House: Scenery

After the interstellar get-down of Alien Pop II, Scenery gives Snail’s House a chance to catch their breathe and return to carefully constructed pieces that reveal themselves slowly but surely. This album comes much closer to last year’s intricate L’été, a series of numbers coming close to fading into the background but have been put together in a way to change and intrigue as they reveal themselves. It bubbles up in the 8-bit hop of “Itsumo No Michi” and it sneaks up in the back of the particularly aching “Stray Cat,” which uses field recordings to place the music (while also busting out…like, doors opening and closing as percussion, which is a nice tactile touch).

The bulk of Scenery plays out like AP beats to study/chill too, offering music that works as background but reveals a lot of depth when given more attention. But the best moments come when Snail’s House snaps you out of the easy-going vibes using vocals. “Floret” jars the listener out of a loop via a manipulated loop of a voice saying “there is no past / there is no future,” taking the easy-to-zone-out quality of the music and smuggling in some life koans into it to get you thinking (or dreading). “Medicine” uses them more as additional texture, but the warm sound of a human voice drifting over the beeps and notes lends this an emotional touch sometimes more subtle. It’s still relaxing, but a reminder that Snail’s House is still mixing it up. Get it here, or listen below.

Omoide Label Presents Hajimete No Juke Featuring Oyubi, Tsumami And More

The cutesy stuff ends almost right away, following a Vocaloid-powered “cooking lesson” about how to make juke music. Hajimete No Juke then proceeds to show just how much actual variety the Chicago-born style allows. This is really just another juke compilation featuring Japanese creators from Omoide Label, and as is often the case with any biggie-sized set released online, part of the fun is just getting in deep and seeing what sticks with the listener (which is especially true for Japanese juke sets, as they always seem double stuffed compared to other offerings). Some familiar names pop up — Oyubi closes the compilation out with a distorted skitter via “Engage Alarm,” another strong track from the young artist in 2019 — but let us get in the mud and enjoy names once unfamiliar to us. Such as Tsumami, who offers up one of the more rumbling numbers here via the simple but rattling “Suspetcion.” Or Snarewaves playful sample-whirl “Swirl,” which mashes up all sorts of voices into one dancefloor carnival. Get it here, or listen below.

New Seiho: “I Feel Tired Everyday”

Part of me just wants to point at that title and be like “eyyyy me too!” But…why? The key to the latest song from electronic artist Seiho comes from his choice to underline “tired” as the condition this track captures. Have all the fuzzy anime GIF loops you want — tiredness isn’t sitting in bed, it is moving from point A to point B before squishing into a train to go to point C. It’s staying up all night to try to find escape in a club but ending up at Fuji Soba before first train, head ready to fall into noodles. Seiho exists somewhere in that latter world, and right-clicking that “song info” option on Apple Music (our streaming overlords…offer some perks! I feel tired everyday) hints at where his mind might have been while putting this one together:

“I Feel Tired Everyday” is in constant motion, and a lot of the sounds Seiho has turned to in the past appear once again. This isn’t pure exhaustion…you can have fun while breaking down after all, and this one moves and bounces, with some late number passages being among the perkiest bits of music he’s offered up in recent memory (though for pure pleasure, turn to the “Weekend Version” on streaming, which swaps out the vocals tripping over themselves in favor of crystalline synths). But even in these moments of escape, a nagging exhaustion tugs at the song, which is Seiho’s masterstroke here. You can always be shooting forward…but everything can blur together and feel disorienting all the same. Listen above.

New Spangle Call Lilli Line: “Red”

Sinking into the familiar can be so rewarding. The pace of life in the digital age puts a premium on the new, of celebrating sudden pivots that eventually lead to more pivots, until everyone involved is just dizzy. Perhaps this comes colored from working primarily in the media industry — which pinballs from idea to idea, but will all lanes leading to a big open grave — but at some point consistency feels a whole lot more inviting than it once did.

For the past decade, that has been the appeal of Spangle Call Lilli Line, a band that puts out albums offering up minor changes to an otherwise locked-in formula. One release might be a little more electronic, another featuring a few more violins. But the main sonic DNA remains intact — this is mid-to-up-tempo rock designed for dusk strolls, when complicated feelings brew and heads swirl with thoughts. Even faster highlights work wonders for self reflection. Newest album Dreams Never End only continues this tradition, and once again I find myself listening to a set of songs right in the Spangle Call Lilli Line sweet spot, both wanting to throw my hands up at trying to find a new angle to old approaches, and just go walk around a park for an hour with these songs going by.

Opener “Red,” like other Spangle Call lead-offs from over the years, serves as a right foot forward. It is one of Dreams Never End’s swiftest inclusions, starting as a jog before eventually approaching a sprint, but it never feels in a rush. Thanks, as usual, the vocals of Kana Otsubo, which keep up but come out like half sigh, capturing the ennui always lurking. The band’s lyrics have usually leaned towards the poetic than the specific, but it works as a way of setting mood rather than place (that, maybe, is up to you). And right at the center, a nice hook. It’s a familiar intro to a familiar set from one of the best at making that feel so good. Listen above.

Good Vibrations: Kumachan Seal’s “Ra Do Namin”

Never too early to let some summer moods in. Kumachan Seal (solo project of a member of Casio Toruko Onsen AND Emerald Four) creates a dub-glazed dance number with “Ra Do Namin,” a breezy number heavy on vibe. Kumachan Seal avoids words in favor of using their voice as another instrument, lending the song a warmth even as parts of it burble off. Place it in the same lane as a project like Half Mile Bach Club, both channeling sounds apt for the coast and pushing them close to unnerving territory without going over. And it remains damn fun. Listen above.