>>Don’t know how long it’s been the case, but we learned very recently that the Reverie Machine is on some sort of reprieve from Maine livin’. The haunting folk project led by the indescribably magnificent vocals of Meghan Yates still aims to put out a new record in the coming months, but lives shows in our area are apparently a no-go—not with Yates and partner-in-crime Mordechai Rosenblatt (bass, etc.) are galloping through Appalachia this summer. Word is they could be back toward the end of July, but they’ll quickly hit the road again after that. No faulting them; there’s no substitute for getting gone, but we sure hope to hear that voice again. Avail yourself of their work and wade around in your memory banks at thereveriemachine.com.
>>Hearing such, such buzz about the youthful garbage-rock trio Lunch Cult lately. They stormed through a set at Congress Square park last weekend, and let drop an utterly skuzzy digital album of new and live tracks titled Living Legends Mixtape—a title as tossed-off and baffling as the eleven charmers within. It’s not an album proper; its purpose is thus: to document the rapid evolution of this group of weirdos since 2012’s Grease Burger Pizza Sandwich, which was more or less an experimental noise record. These days, the album declares, Lunch Cult write songs—though they’re just as likely to play them as they are to descend into lengthy screeds of garage noise. Take the study-in-disaster vibe of vintage Replacements, add to it the lighthearted playfulness of Theodore Treehouse or the great Cap’n Jazz; and sprinkle a few aesthetic ironies for good measure—deadpan lyrics, too-ambitious guitar work, brazen self-effacement, and dumb attempts at punk formalism. If like us, you like your rock music character-driven and overdramatic, catch up with these dudes at lunchcult.bandcamp.com.
>>As if by some twilight encounter in a Midcoast glen, a lovely album of mysterious folk songs by the Skylark Sisters surfaced this week. Humbly titled Demo Recordings, its ten tracks submit a selection of folk songs lush with harmonies and gorgeously spare with its strings. Opener “Take Heart” is a lullabye of top-shelf mixtape caliber, the minutiae-obsession of “Sleepytime Tea” is as warming as its namesake, and the gorgeous lamenter “My Roommates the Wolves” is a fulfilling exercise in animism. Fantastic night music for the heart and mind. Queue up skylarksisters.bandcamp.com.