Deerhunter long for an alternative-rock utopia -- where record-collector geeks transform skewed underground sounds into a melodic group hug for the shit-upon. A fleeting vision, at best, over the decades, but Halcyon Digest's mournful rapture radiates like the beacon the Atlanta band always imagined. Frontman Bradford Cox stage-manages the action deftly -- from glitchy coos to Everlys elegy to Velvets drone to folkgaze séance -- but the album's expansive warmth is the sound of a band finally becoming their dream. C.A.
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If you pay attention to the sort of media that reasonably expects its audience to scroll through a list of 300 albums, you already know the fetching story of Shamir Bailey. A 20-year-old, male-pronoun-approving, gender-fluid African-American who grew up in Vegas and played country music until enough bizzers told him they didn’t know how to… More »