Lina Tullgren is from Southern Maine just over the border of the northernmost seacoast of New Hampshire. It’s an unexpected location for artistic incubation, but if you grow up anywhere surrounded by family and friends and weirdos interacting at all times with their own interpretations of creative output, osmosis is bound to occur. Shifting in trainings and traditions, the 23 year old eventually found herself a voice with the electric guitar, uniquely flavored and shaped from the many years of fiddle lessons and classical technique. The shifts in genre and in instrumentation are stark, but important. Lina’s morphing interaction with music has mirrored a growing determination to harness her ability to melodically and lyrically express complex emotions.
See also: Guest Mix by Shane Parish
Lisa/Liza is the project of Portland, Maine’s Liza Victoria. This ethereal-sounding folk singer has an appropriately hazy mystique about her, offering little more in biographical detail than where she calls home. We know there’s more to the story, but it’s not important. Her gentle songs have such a fragile quality that they just barely make it out of her body, and the reward when they do is high.
Improviser, composer, and songwriter who uses guitar, pedals, the tenor banjo, the computer, the synthesizer and the voice.
Every Boston band starts in a basement, but not every Boston band hopes to leave one. Bad History Month, a glum anti-folk act that formed there back in 2007, has never been concerned with fame. For starters, the band’s music uses a combination of ribald jokes, effervescent self-deprecation and blunt existentialism focused on understanding oneself from the inside out in service of isolation — assuming the position of the middle school loner in the back of a classroom.
Groovy as hell. Like The Velvet Underground jamming with The Dandy Warhols in a space shuttle. Trippy in a mind-twisting way.
Throat expresser, sound designer, composer residing in New York. See also: Dent
A heady new project from Herbcraft’s Matt Lajoie, Ash & Herb pairs his psychedelic haze with partner in crime Ash (singularly named it appears), who provides some haunting vocals and lycergic instrumentation of her own. Not wholly divorced from Herbcraft’s earlier works, before they hit a heavier rock vein, the album wafts in on a puff of shamanistic smoke and settles down to craft temples in the woods. Picking out half ragas, divining rain spirits and then sublimating into a fine ether; the pair have captured themselves in some real improvisational glory. They catch the same spectral breath as Charlambides or Pocahaunted before them, finding solace in their own sense of time and place.
your favorite monogamous ensemblè