With a title like Night Life, one might assume that The Horrors would drop listeners into the sweatiest, dingiest, bassiest warehouse after-hours on their latest album. That’s a semi-reasonable assumption if you heard the band’s 2021 EPs, Lout and Against the Blade, but it’s also an incorrect one. On the U.K. band’s six album— their first full-length in seven years— night life is hushed and melancholy. It’s gothic, not goth, i.e. more Brontë sisters than Sisters of Mercy.
It’s the second track off Dead Channel Sky, the latest album from hip-hop trio clipping., that hooked me into the album. “Dominator” begins with a snippet of Human Resource’s early ‘90s banger of the same name, the line “I’m the one and only” pitched up and stuttering towards a collision with rapper Daveed Diggs, who drops a quote from “Bring the Noise,” the Public Enemy classic, “Once again back it’s the incredible.” The sound is bombastic, in the way that the old rave anthems were, and clipping. keeps up the big, boisterous vibe as “Dominator” slides into “Change the Channel,” which twists towards late ‘90s electronic tastes, think “Firestarter”-era Prodigy-meets-Chemical Brothers.
It was the night before the inauguration and, somewhere in the distance, the Eaton and Palisades fires continued to burn. Needless to say, the mood was grim on the streets of L.A. that Sunday. Inside The Regent, though, at a little after 7:30 p.m., the vibe was dynamic. Agender was in the midst of their opening set for CSS. The floor level of the venue was already packed wall-to-wall. The balcony, where I stood, was quite full as well. Looking down, a mass of people bopped around the floor as the L.A. punk band ripped through one fierce song after the next.
“I think it was a moment of the city coming together and it felt special,” says Romy Hoffman, who is the singer, guitarist and songwriter for Agender. “I know I needed that outlet.” Hoffman, who has known CSS since a previous project of hers toured Australia with them in the mid-‘00s, notes that the Brazilian indie band has a “positive, infectious energy” that lent itself to the “catharsis” inside the venue that night. “It was the perfect band to play at that time just because of their energy,” she says. “We had a great time and the crowd was really responsive. It was wonderful.”
Is there an album title better suited for 2025 than City of Clowns, the latest from Marie Davidson? Just this week, Meta dropped some Instagram users into a new level of doomscroll hell, Jeff Bezos decided that WaPo’s opinion page would push “personal liberties and free markets,” and I can’t even keep up with the New Adventures of Trump and Musk. These dudes are a bunch of fucking clowns with far too much power over our daily lives.
But, enough about politics, let’s get the music, right? Sorry, that’s not going to happen with City of Clowns. Influenced by Shoshana Zuboff’s book, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, the not-so-subtle theme throughout Marie Davidson’s new album is the control that Big Tech wields over us. Take “Demolition” as an example, when Davidson whispers, “I want your data” in a flirtatious voice, like the platform that’s going to seduce you into handing over the details of your life that you don’t even share with your closest confidantes.
Lemuria, the sophomore album from Optometry, has the best closer I’ve heard in a long time, so we’re going to start this review at the end. “Never Coming Back” is in the vein of what’s considered post-punk right now. It has a running-for-your-life tempo (over 160 bpm for those of you who keep track of these things), a gloomy synth and a “Ceremony” sad guitar. It’s dark— really, it sounds like the cliff-hanger ending of a TV show— but also danceable and it’s become my favorite track on the album, which is out today on Palette Recordings.
As the story goes, in the early years of the 1990s, the buzz on Drop Nineteens began with two demo sessions that landed them gigs, ink in the U.K. press and, ultimately, a record deal with Caroline. The songs on the demo, though, weren’t what made it onto the band’s debut album, Delaware. In fact they hadn’t been officially released until now. Called 1991, the remastered collection of songs recorded mostly in a dorm room on an 8-track reel-to-reel is out now via Wharf Cat Records.
French Police released a new EP, Espera, last week. If you haven’t already added the four-song release to your listening queue, get on that asap because this is a good one.
Based in Chicago, French Police is a trio on the post-punk/darkwave tip who have been steadily gaining popularity over the past few years. Anecdotally, I can tell you that their songs were requested at virtually every party I played with Klub Nocturno this past year. Frequently, their songs were requested more than once during the course of one night. Outside of the clubs, you have probably heard them in the ether somewhere in L.A. Recently, when I was at Alamo Drafthouse to see Pump Up the Volume, there was a French Police playlist on in the bar.
Mogwai The Bad Fire is one of this month’s essential new releases
We’ve finally made it to the end of the longest month ever. I’m writing this under the assumption that no one— literally, not one single person— wants a recap of the events of January, 2025. However, I do want to spotlight some of the music that came out this month because we need the arts most when the world is bleak af and there is some wonderful new music that came out this month.
The deluxe edition of The Faint’s 2004 album Wet From Birth is set for release on March 14, 2025
Recently, maybe at the CSS show last week, I said to a friend that you know we’re living in dark times because people are all nostalgic about the ‘00s. I’ve written about it here before, but that decade was not cute. Bleak is probably a better word to describe an era marked by wars, financial shenanigans and rising social conservatism. And, at least in comparison to other decades, there weren’t many musicians addressing the turmoil in their work. Amongst the few who did was The Faint.
Years ago, Matt Berry and Rich Fulcher had a show called Snuff Box, a comedy about two executioners who hang out at a gentleman’s club— the British kind, not the Bada Bing! kind. The show itself is fantastic, but the most memorable thing about it is the theme song. That melody has haunted me for years, even when my content-addled brain struggles to recall what actually happened in the series. Matt Berry writes a good earworm.
Berry, the actor who has been in cult favorite shows like Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace and The Mighty Boosh, starred in the British series Toast of London and recently ended a six-season run as Laszlo in What We Do in the Shadows, has a parallel career as a musician. His latest album, Heard Noises, was released on January 24 and it’s potentially as sticky as that Snuff Box theme song.
