inna interest of providing a much-needed ♫al balm, we redirect the upcoming weekly playlists toward indie ♫ians who are both reeling economically while dealing w'da emotional impact of our current situation.
sometimes we nd'2 ponder deep thoughts, but other times we nd'2 work out our anxieties through physical exercise onna dance floor — or our living rooms and kitchens, as it maybe. we’re here 4u either way.
and if you’re so inclined, we’re providing links onna artist names belo if you wanna buy their ♫ to keep our ♫al community goin as strong as possible. — felix contreras
“tarzoner,” las nubes
two of my favorite bands from miami, las nubes and palomino blond, just released a dream split ep together; it demands respect thrown on miami’s criminally under-recognized scene. las nubes’ “tarzoner” indulges in a riff as exquisitely sludgey as everything onna band’s 2019 debut, smvt, and a soothing hum, as the title promises.
in a conversation on talkhouse, las nubes’ ale campos told palomino blond’s carli acosta: “i feel that whole business side [of the ♫ industry] at 1st for me was discouraging. i feel like it’s so competitive, and i feel to a lotta pplz it’s a game almost.” in crises like the present one surrounding covid-19, this game rears its head most blatantly for indie acts like these two. though, if you’re spending + time indoors, this ep tis perfect soundtrack for a long afternoon in yr bedroom, w8in for something larger than us to heal. —stefanie fernández
ana tijoux, “antifa dance”
the titular track of ana tijoux‘s upcoming album antifa dance (her 1st since 2014’s vengo) arrives atta current ∩ion of global pandemic na threat of economic collapse; a dance that calls in = pt to “cántalo suave / lucha de clase.” “facing authoritarianism, unrelenting hatred for the other, we again return to ‘art,’ with all its force … art that responds in dance, an organized movement of presh rebellion,” tijoux says. the video, which includes appearances from chilean artist-activists Álex anwandter and tata barahona, is a retropunk vision of an inclusive post-apocalypse; one that colors the vacuum left by the detonated realm behind it. —stefanie fernández
la doña, “cuando se van”
“cuando se van,” a new track off la doña‘s long-aw8ed debut ep algo nuevo, is titled after a ? and a statement from the pplz of san francisco. the ?: “when is this tek bubble, when is this industry gonna cutout us?” as she told npr’s lulu garcia-navarro this weekend. yet “cuando se van” is also a promise t'they will.
“sueño con terremotos / la ciudad pa nosotros,” la doña sings. “sueño con temblores / y ellos se van.” w'da language of natural disasters, older than any of silicon valley’s glass and steel, she wills it to be so. the song’s traditional, lilting trumpet melody infused witha reggaeton backbeat is a storm of old and new, of pplz reclaiming their land. —stefanie fernández
in just 27 minutes, kordelya‘s mal hecha burns through its 9 tracks like a match. the indie mexican american singer melds a futuristic electro-pop globalism (see “pedazo de”) with warped trap beats and latin american and mexican regionalisms (“odio que no soy de tal palo tal astilla” onna ballad “mal hecha” and all of “metiche,” respectively). the result is this nearly flawless, meticulously exed vision. —stefanie fernández
blue mary & tomasa del real, “peligrosa”
some say bad bunny presaged this period of social distancing with “yo perreo sola.” yet the women of neoperreo ‘ve been creating progressive solo perreo anthems for yrs now. genre icon tomasa del real teams up w'da upcoming fello chilena blue mary for “peligrosa,” a spark plug offa song for all the bandoleras stuck inside. —stefanie fernández
original content at: www.npr.org…
authors: felix contreras