Game On

Game Rebellion

Afrocentric rock bands are a rare but beautiful thing. Living Colour, Bad Brains, Fishbone ” these guys stepped boldly into the mostly white arena of punk and hardcore, bringing with them styles and genres as divergent as jazz, funk, and hip-hop. And history was made. These days there are more and more afro-rock bands, most notably Brooklyn indie darlings TV On The Radio. Game Rebellion hails from the BK too, but is intentionally more lowbrow. Case in point: Dance Girl, which combines gnarly synth rock and bombastic hip-hop while cheering on a dancer and her pole. It’s brazen and dirty, infected and infectious. Things get more political with Blind, a jagged rap-rocker with lyrics that can slice you open. We’re zombies of debt, we’ve been buried alive, spits lead MC, Netic. Whether Game Rebellion is shooting off scathing social commentary or lyrically tipping strippers, there’s never a dull moment.

Code Red

Blameshift’s steady rise to the upper strata of commercial music is the product of not just talent, but serious marketing mojo. First the band became road warriors, criss-crossing across the country in a bus fueled by corn oil and building a bi-coastal fan base. Those diehard fans allowed Blameshift to finance their first record through Kickstarter and release free downloads in exchange for a like on Facebook. Their strategy paid off, exposing their polished hard rock to new fans and sponsors, and netting them placement on The Real World and Call of Duty. Blameshift’s music is as heavy as it is catchy, driven by the siren song of Jenny Mann. Guitars chug and strike through mountains of distortion, drums are pummeled to within an inch of their life, and Mann’s voice pierces through it all. Start with Ghost or Killing Me for a dose of dark and fitful rock. If you like to dance through all the drama, we recommend the sinister, polyrhythmic rocker,The Sirens Are Set. Are you ready? Mann asks. This could last forever. Cool by us.

Playing Dirty

Stephanie White and the Philth Harmonics

Stephanie White was one of the Top 21 female vocalists on American Idol season five, and though the New Jersey native didn’t make it as far as Taylor Hicks, it wasn’t for a lack of talent. White’s got the limber croon of a jazz chanteuse combined with a pop sensibility that makes her music appealing to the masses. With her band of merry musicians, the Philth Harmonics, the singer creates a gumbo of jazz, funk, ska, and even a little Caribbean. Cheat On My BFFL is a cautionary tale for jerk wads wrapped up in a party. The bass bubbles, the guitars strut, the horns bleat, and the girl sings a warning to men who mean her friends harm. Keep the party going with the sultry Prove It or the creeping jazz funk of Trying To Dream For You. Hey, Taylor Hickseat your heart out.


Fire and Ice

Just across the Hudson, tucked between the Lincoln and Holland tunnels, is Hoboken, NJ. A less frenetic, friendlier version of New York City, Hoboken still functions as sort of a microcosm of Manhattan with its restaurants, galleries, and vibrant music scene. Just like Hoboken, ARTWORK reflects the sometimes opposing forces and surprising beauty of the big city. On Skies gnarled guitars and stomping drums give way to a coasting melody with blissed out vocals and twee lyrics reminiscent of Owl City. But just as soon as you begin to get lulled into submission, in comes a menacing, spoken word bridge to upset the calm. On Casting Stones staccato guitars, blasts of distortion, thrashing drums, and whirls of synths create a decidedly more turbulent vibe. I’ll set the world in flames, singer Darren Fisher promises. True, but they’ll also provide the salve to soothe the burn.


Champagne Morning

Champagne Morning seems to have it all figured out. The band, based in Kiev, spends part of their time creating euphoric indie pop, and when they’re not doing that, they drink champagne. It might explain the mix of revelry, chaos and camaraderie that permeates their music. Take, for example, Miracle, a psychedelic mash of jaunty piano, guitars and drums that bounce along, feckless and free. Fly High keeps the party going with a neo-soul/rock groove, blissed-out female backup singers and an American rapper by the name of Fanamonon who somehow ended up in the Ukraine just in time to spit some lyrics on the track. Even Pain Plane, which starts off as a moony solo number, bursts into a crescendo of joyful noise at the end. Like the best drunken nights, you can only brood for so long before your friends show up to shake you out of it.

The Kind-Hearted Kid


Bad stuff is out there”in nasty Facebook posts, shocking headlines and mean people looking to kill your buzz. Next time you feel a deep and abiding despair about humanity, put on Roads, a Washington-based band led by singer-songwriter Ian Vidovic. Along with keyboard player Abram Bardue and drummer Justin Abel, Vidovic crafts indie pop patchworks of found parts, binding them together with an unwavering hopefulness. On Love Will Grow piano and strings are met with yawning textures, rattles and creaks. I Don’t Know How, on the other hand, is a quixotic ukulele song, played sweet and easy. If you’re not a fan of high whimsy, you’ll want to bypass Roads. But if you like the gentle and earnest croon of vocalists like Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard and the quirky balladry of Decemberists, well, you’ve found your jam.