English Teacher
If you thought you knew what post-punk sounded, looked, or felt like, we dare you to check out English Teacher. The English band achieve what many have tried and failed at — boiling down and renovating the genre for a new generation, and doing so with thoughtfulness, true feeling, and style. And this month, they took it to new heights, in releasing their latest record. The satisfying 13-track LP, This Could Be Texas, guides the Leeds-based group into new arenas of sound, from nostalgic ’90s math rock with chugging melodic hooks to soaring, anthemic tracks that bring the listener right back to the present with an addictive jolt. In British post-punk fashion, they look out at the country’s landscape, digging into social issues and topics like Brexit, infused with more personal narratives around mental health, and vocalist Lily Fontaine’s experience as a mixed-race individual trying to understand life in a place “where many didn’t have understanding or even tolerance towards people who are different.” Standout tracks include one of the LP’s singles, “The World’s Biggest Paving Slab,” and “Albatross,” the opener, whose sparkling guitar part gives us a taste of the soft yet unbridled energy we’re in store for through the next dozen songs. And the band have pushed this out, all while gearing up to support IDLES on their North American fall tour and to play some of their biggest headlining shows to date in both the U.S. and U.K. —Anna Zanes
Doubt
There are a plethora of noteworthy acts coming out of the Baltimore hardcore scene right now. But there’s something that stands out about one of its newest characters, Doubt. Shrugging off the separation between East or West Coast style, the group have found an interesting and fresh overlap bouncing from mid-tempo to hyperspeed, while leaning into heavy, dense riffage that spans a slew of punk styles in itself. After recently signing to Get Better Records, Doubt delivered their very first single, “Delusion,” on April 11. While one might hear echoes of Trapped Under Ice, Outbreak, or Trash Talk — even a bit of Touche Amore, at times — the animalistic growl that we get from Doubt vocalist Claire Abila clearly sets them apart. And this is why a group like Doubt epitomize what’s happening in Baltimore, alongside a few other cities right now — hardcore is not only alive and well, but there’s a sense of new energy and openness that hasn’t always been so synonymous with any punk scene. Said best by Soul Glo frontman Pierce Jordan, “Doubt forces nothing and offers everything, a breath of fresh air from a region with only intriguing possibilities ahead.” Coming off last week’s tour with North Carolina’s Brass Tongue and with their brash new single in tow, we can all agree that whatever comes next from Doubt will be deviously good, and we’d encourage you to keep an eye out. —Anna Zanes
Halima
Halima has blurred theater with rich, forward-thinking alt R&B for the past six years, using her time in Lagos, London, and Brooklyn to build upon her own distinct world. The single “Awaken” is a brilliant entry point, for both Halima’s discography as a whole and her forthcoming EP, EXU, which arrives May 24 via drink sum water. Over soulful, buttery vocals, the song sinks deeply into the aftermath of a breakup and all the uncomfortable feelings that crawl to the surface — suddenly being alone, second-guessing your intentions, and fearing that pride ruined a good thing. Yet you can only really choose yourself. By the song’s end, she incorporates a Yoruba salutation — “omi-o mo” — that acts as a calling, a way to say that kind of closeness doesn’t just disappear. —Neville Hardman
Been Stellar
Been Stellar guitarist Skyler Knapp and vocalist Sam Slocum originally met freshman year in Michigan, then connected with the rest of the band — guitarist Nando Dale, bassist Nico Brunstein, and drummer Laila Wayans — at NYU, bonding over music and a shared sense of humor as they traipsed around the city. It’s fitting, then, that their new Dan Carey-produced album, Scream from New York, NY, cuts a fierce snapshot of their home, culling together a glowing, crackling set of songs that balances moments of frenzied melancholy (“Sweet”) with bits of chaos and urgency (“Can’t Look Away”). After opening for their Dirty Hit labelmates the 1975 earlier this year, plus past stints with Interpol, Shame, and Fontaines D.C., Been Stellar seem ready to lay down their own mark within the city’s rich scene. —Neville Hardman
The Ophelias
Earlier this month, bright and bold quartet the Ophelias delivered their latest project, a five-track EP titled Ribbon. Released on April 12, it stands as evidence of the group’s tangible chemistry, which has only grown and strengthened since their 2015 debut album, Creature Native. In the nine years since, they’ve not only forged ahead in sonic prowess, but have gone from identifying as an “all-girl” band to a proudly queer and trans group. It is a journey that Ribbon explores and unpacks beautifully over a landscape of wiley rhythm, carried by drummer Mic Adams, while grungier guitar parts play against Andrea Gutmann Fuentes’ folksy violin, all topped off with the incomparable, angst-ridden belt of vocalist/guitarist Spencer Peppet. Though they describe themselves as making “Midwestern moth music,” we’d call it a satisfying mix of sticky pop and joyful, singalong indie-folk, with a good bite, from the addition of Peppet’s rocker edge, distorted guitars, and the foundational, heavy bass part from Jo Shaffer. —Anna Zanes
Ekko Astral
Ekko Astral have been ripping up Washington, D.C.’s local scene for years, building upon a legacy left by a long list of punk forebears and cutting a path that speaks to marginalized communities. Pioneering their own “mascara moshpit music,” frontwoman Jael Holzman spits words as if she’s been holding them in for years, always keeping pace with the rest of the band — Liam Hughes, Sam Elmore, Guinevere Tully, and Miri Tyler — with biting pop-culture references and real-world observations. That’s brilliantly heard on Ekko Astral’s full-length debut, pink balloons, which brims with thunderous havoc, experimentalism, and sharp one-liners, pulling from Charli XCX as freely as Jeff Rosenstock and Arctic Monkeys. At its core, though, these songs examine how terror and anxiety — whether from intolerance, self-hate, violence — will always be universal. This raucous kind of solidarity is what sets them apart as they continue to redefine, and better, D.C. punk and beyond. —Neville Hardman
