Tag Archives: Dirty Projectors

Sound ‘Round: Amber Coffman / Waxahatchee

Women staking their claim with a burgeoning sound

Amber Coffman – City of No Reply (Columbia)

A brief backstory concerning the lives of the semi-rich and semi-famous. Coffman first split with boyfriend/boss/Dirty Projectors impresario Dave Longstreth in 2012 only to reunite with him as a lover and collaborator two years later. Things irreparably soured in 2016 while Longstreth helped prep this solo debut as a producer. He soon kicked Coffman out of his band and wrote a typically dense breakup album more concerned with being smart than cathartic. Coffman says good riddance. Though her former beau gets a co-writing credit on every track, the rewards here are all hers, as is the musical vision. With no desire for sour grapes or the need to self-aggrandize, her supple soprano disavows the ornate art-pop coveted by intellectuals like her ex and articulates in plain English and plainer arrangements regarding both sides of the romantic coin. Just as refreshing as her new-found knack for simplicity is her ability to let the music say more with less. The surprises come in small packages: be it sly use of auto-tune on the opener, the warm breath of a horn section near the finale, or synths that warble and burp but don’t diminish her performance. She states her goal from the get-go. “All I want is to feel strong,” she sings. The rest is more of the same. GRADE: A-

Key Tracks: “All To Myself” / “Do You Believe” / “City of No Reply”

Waxahatchee – Out of the Storm (Merge)

Humanity cried out for another Katie Crutchfield solo record like it cried out for the damn movie about emojis. Much of her music this decade is comprised of drab austerity and reverb-drenched confessionals concerning bad romance. The songs are often as monotone as her target market — mainly white college kids and young adults who feign sadness and self-pity for the retweets. But after three albums and five years of rinsing, reusing and recycling old tropes comes 10 songs that recall days spent alongside twin sister Alison in femme-punk outfit, P.S. Eliot. Tired of dull bedroom pop and half-assed shoegazing, the opening 16 seconds features a spirited blast of distortion and robust drumming that’s controlled and tempered but more driving and instantaneous than anything the Japandroids cobbled together this year. The musical achievements trickle into other elements, too. Though her subject matter is familiar, Crutchfield’s songwriting is more assured, less vague and not afraid to be hopeful. “When I fall I will not be ashamed at all,” precedes “You’ll have your truth, I’ll have mine,” precedes “I tell the truth / I feel amazing today.” A bolstered sound and a clearer perspective all in just over 30 minutes. Here’s hoping the good vibes last. We deserve it, and she does too. GRADE: A-

Key Tracks: “Silver” / “Brass Beam” / “Never Been Wrong”