Sound Advice: 02. Apr. 2025

The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from Throwing Muses, Miscellaneous Owl, and Ministry

Longtime readers may recall that I reviewed 100 new (to me) records last year. Because I’m a glutton for punishment love music, I’m doing it again this year. This is the latest in the series.


Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at the latest from Throwing Muses Miscellaneous Owl, and Ministry

Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try and put up—

In other words, a ton of good stuff is coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. Below is another batch that caught my attention recently.

Let’s get into it!


Throwing Muses- Moonlight Concessions

The first time Throwing Muses rearranged my mind was in May of 1989. They were opening for New Order, of all people. Being labelmates makes for strange bedfellows, and their sound was unlike the headliners’ and a world away from anything else I’d heard at that point. It was enchanting, and I’ve never really stopped listening to them since.

Over 36(ish) years since Throwing Muses has lived many lives, and their sound has checked just about every box. There’s been melody. There’s been noise. There’ve been experiments that bordered on shoegaze. There was a stint as indie darlings.

The constant here is change, and for the band’s 11th record (and the first since 2020’s Sun Racket), they went back to the basics. Whereas its fuzzed-out predecessor was fueled by amps and electricity, Moonlight Concessions is human-powered. At its core, this is an elemental record. Throwing Muses aren’t exactly synonymous with excess, but even by their usual standards, this is a stripped-down record, with not a note or space to spare.

The opening track, “Summer of Love,” sets the mood early and would feel right at home soundtracking a noir thriller on HBO or the slightly sketchier side of New Orleans. Indeed, Nola gets a shout on “Drugstore Dramatic.” It might be just this writer, but in a lot of ways, Moonlight Concessions feels like a record Dr. John might’ve made if he was from Rhode Island and played guitar.

If you’re holding on for some bright sunny pop here, you’ll be disappointed. It’s in short supply. There is no “Not Too Soon” equivalent on this record. That’s a good thing. The best version of Throwing Muses is the one that’s just a bit off-balanced and just a little disorienting. This is a band that has never really concerned itself with the boundaries of convention.

At the show I mentioned above, the first thing I noticed about the band was how understated yet potent David Narcizo’s drumming was. I was still under the illusion that I, too, was a drummer, and watching him play (no cymbals!) was inspiring and intimidating. Here, his playing is even more minimalistic but no less fantastic. It’s much more percussion than drumming. Pete Harvey joins in, and his cello is a welcome addition. It all makes for a reserved atmosphere.

All these elements orbit frontwoman Kristin Hersh, her guitar, and plaintive vocals. The former is acoustic and understated. The latter are unmistakable and alternate between effusive and erratic. Sedate and snarling.

In an interview with Paste, Hersh stated:

“I don’t know why anyone else would know it was a return to form, but it is,” she shrugs, “because these songs—songs like ‘Drugstore Drastic’ and ‘Summer of Love’ and ‘Libretto’—were songs that Throwing Muses used to sound like before we made our first record. So, this is a return to form that no one would know is a return to form. But, you know, we used to sound like that!”

Muses’ sound has always been a bit off-kilter as if looking through a slightly distorted lens after having been in the sun for a few minutes too long. It’s a basic tenet of their sound, and in that regard, Moonlight Concessions is more of the same. And I’ll take all of that you got.

Back to basics…back to what they used to sound like. Both fit. Both make for a great record.

(Check out Moonlight Concessions here)


Miscellaneous Owl- The Cloud Chamber

Februarys here in America’s Dairyland are bleak. By that point, the novelty of winter has long worn off, and the world has descended into a monochrome of white (and salt). It’s enough to drive someone to drink. Fortunately for us, it instead inspired local artist Huan-Hua Chye (performing as Miscellaneous Owl) to take part in February Album Writing Month.

Things kick off with the upbeat (and this writer’s favorite) Tender and Laughing.

With lyrics like:

Everything becomes a string of stars

Everything becomes the smell of rain

Everything we love will fall apart,

Everything we lose comes back again,”

“You and I Are Earth” feels like a love song to someone else and the seasons.

“The Wounded Moon” is a lilting, almost lullaby that showcases her vocalist strength. From here, we jump to “Oh Sister,” which sounds like a graduate of the same finishing school that gave us Depeche Mode’s Speak and Spell. It’s a treat. “In Clover” is a bop (albeit with some brutal lyrics) that will get stuck in your head before you know what’s happening. “Spooky Action at a Distance feels purpose-built to be closer.

Those jumps happen often throughout the record but are never jolting. The tracks vary from light and airy to softer and subtle, but they all fit well together and feel like part of the whole.

The latest in a sizeable discography, The Cloud Chamber shows Chye at her best.

(Listen/grab your copy here)


Ministry- The Squirrely Years Revisited

In May of 1983, Ministry recorded With Sympathy. Frontman Al Jourgenson then spent the ensuing years telling anyone who’ll listen that it’s awful. If the “Make Ministry synthpop again “memes are anything to go by, many people never go to the memo. They’re also now getting what they want…kind of.

After With Sympathy, Ministry recorded Twitch and then began releasing a series of industrial and metal records, both as Ministry and with side projects like Revolting Cocks. All well and good until you make the same record several times in a row. The first time you hear a record like The Land of Rape and Honey, it’s amazing. But it only takes a few records to see that Jourgenson was on autopilot. For me, it was like the music version of the law of diminishing marginal returns.

If asked, I’m definitely on #teamsynthpop here, and that’s why I’m happy to see this record come out. Maybe Jourgenson is mellowing. Maybe he sees the appetite for this music (i.e., profit potential). That said, this isn’t just a remake of With Sympathy and Twitch The tracks have been redone and remodeled. I cringe anytime I hear the word “refresh” used as a synonym for update. But it fits here. You will know you’re listening to gems like “Work for Love,” but it’s not a 100% faithful cover/remake. Same with classics like “Over the Shoulder” and Every Day is Halloween.” Elements have been added, and others taken away. There’s less sheen than the originals and more groove. It’s a great blend of both worlds. This is a return to form for a band that had grown complacent in recent years.

The Squirrely Years is anything but. It’s energetic and alive. It might be a rework of old material, but it never feels stale or reheated. It’s a modern, well-done take on the band’s early work, and it’s their best release in years.

And therein lies the beauty of the record. The Squirrely Years has made Ministry synthpop again.
(Make Ministry synthpop here)


As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?

Why Yo La Tengo’s ‘This Stupid World’ Could Be Your New Favorite Album

There are two sides to Yo La Tengo. Both are very good sides.

The first is quiet, contemplative Yo La Tengo. That’s the one we’ve seen the most of in recent years. Sometimes haunting and/or listless, other times endearing. Occasionally, like on tracks like Looney Tunes, a sonic lazy river that seemingly stretches forever.

The second is rocking Yo la Tengo. Sometimes it’s vaguely menacing, as with tracks like Shaker. The sound is locomotive. I’ll also include their poppier side and impeccable taste in picking covers here.

Either way, they’re giving us straight rippers with Kaplan barely in control, playing like one of those inflatable wavy guys you see at low-rent used car lots.

Instead of a specific direction, they just chose ‘em all

Messy. Precise. Jarring. Soothing. Over the last forty(ish) years, Yo La Tengo have consistently been an exercise in contradiction. And yet somehow, it all fits together nicely, as it’s supposed to. 

This is one of those bands that always sound like themselves, no matter what boundary they’re pushing or which norm they’re winging out a third-story window.

It’s always a YLT record, ya know?

On their latest release, “This Stupid World,” they’ve kept all of that going.

Sidebar: Yo La Tengo can be a band that makes you work before you get it. The full listening experience requires intention. There’s friction. The effort is always worth it, though, with something new revealing itself with every spin. And while they have some songs that could broadly be classified as singles, this band’s work is best heard from A1 to the closer.

So I have to say that for as much hype as there was leading up to the release of This Stupid World, I’m grateful that they only released a couple of tracks ahead of time. Hearing the record unfold for the first time is a joy. 


The record opens strong with Sinatra Drive Breakdown. Look, I know “motorik” is fast becoming the most overused adjective in my arsenal, right up there with “awesome” and “fantastic.” but for this track, it fits. Just trust me here.

Drummer Georgia Hubley and bassist James “new guy since ‘92” Mcnew lay down a killer groove that promptly chugs on for 7+ minutes. So much for radio-friendly.

Another rule proudly ignored.

Next up is “Fallout,” easily their most pure pop offering since perhaps Ohm off of Fade, or Electr-O-Pura’s Tom Courtenay. With an easy rhythm and quasi-call-and-response-like chorus of:

Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time

Don’t be surprised if you get caught singing this at a red light. I’m not saying this has happened to me, but I’m not not saying it, either.

This band is famously introverted, with Hubley sometimes giving the impression that she’s using the drum kit as a shield. But perhaps more than anyone else, she has come more into her own with each release.

On “Aselestine,” her vocals are unguarded & lovely, even as she’s singing Where are you/The drugs don’t do/What you said they do.

On closer, “Miles Away,” they’re endearing as she laments those she’s lost along the way.

You feel alone
Friends are all gone
Keep wiping the dust from your eyes
So many signs
I must be blind
How few of them I see

But to get there, we get to get through a few more tracksKaplan’s usual knack for squishing an entire backstory into a paragraph is on display throughout the record, but perhaps no more so than on Apology Letter, where he sings:

It’s so clear
What I’m trying to say, but right on cue
It doesn’t ever come that easily
‘Cause the words
Derail on the way from me to you
It seems to happen with some frequency
Depressingly


Brain Capers is expansive and rides a thick groove. It’s relentless—and it’s my favorite song on the record. Kaplan is in full glorious wavy inflatable guy mode here.

The title track is a steely shoegaze monster. A weighted blanket of the band’s distortion and feedback, with Kaplan telling us, “This stupid world, it’s all we have.”

They know the only way out is through, and this is their way of telling us that if it’s not gonna end well, we can at least have a good time on the way down.


Bottom Line: Yo La Tengo has never been a band that fits nicely in a box, and 2023’s no time to start. They’ve gone from critics darling to your favorite band’s favorite band to indie rock elder statesmen.

And all of that from a band that feels more like neighbors you’d ask to watch your house while on vacation.

With seventeen records and a bunch of EPs and singles, this would’ve been a fine capstone to a storied discography. Instead, it feels like a band hitting its stride with the best yet to come.