To capture a youthful outlook towards an often cold world seems impossible, but through Leggy, the Cincinnati, Ohioans are able to collective contain hope in a 38-minute pop-rock display. A love letter to the freedom that comes with expression, Let Me Know Your Moon is almost a nostalgic summer blast wrapped up into one complete, escalating package.
As the rough cut, almost sloppy guitar forms in the background of “Antwerp”, the first track coming from Let Me Know Your Moon. The record then blasts into a push of stimulating vocals that are easy on the ears and create affectionate invitations to the listener. Then, the music is able to become a full-fledged, fleshed-out conglomerate of garage rock that materialize through the overarching background of hand-made crafts.
Leggy has a personality behind them and a unique perspective towards the approach of segueing and organizing flow within their record. As Let Me Know Your Moon bounces off the emotional attachment to a high school love letter, the instrumentation is uplifting primarily and continues from “Antwerp” to “Not What You Need” where Leggy begins to incorporate depth to their sound.
“Eden” then jumps into the frame where this sonic adolescence sculpts around the listener and transports this flood of memory into the frame. With the track “Eden”, there is a specification that comes from the obsession where Leggy describes, “I know your birthstone, horoscope… I think you’re perfect.” It is this gratification that comes immediately without any delay as Let Me Know Your Moon becomes infatuated with creating warmth within. The parade of tracks that are marched on the promenade are fine, designing diamond-esque cuts that manufacture around the half-clean and half-slopped arrangement.
In any rate, Leggy creates a record that is ultimately engaging and demands this attention as the waves of noise create walls that begin to ease away from the listener. Rather than crushing or pulverizing, Let Me Know Your Moon is an open demonstration that stands back, allowing for this larger public viewing of the works together. Drenched in a well of endearing policy, Leggy is simply a joy to hear as they hit unison and then disperse into the warm, summer night sky.
With one of the final tracks, “Prom” becomes a sleek and somber display that creates dichotomy within Let Me Know Your Moon. The vocals here are to be perceived as the star of the track, but truthfully the real substance comes from the instrumentation behind. With the emotional guitar and slow percussion that builds, there is a wide range to digest and comprehend as the final bridge connects into the dark unknown.
With a personal touch and beloved ability coming from Leggy, the band is a pop-rock dream that forms the backbone sound of a house show or underground party. As the crowd disperses back to lover’s rock or the backyard jam, Let Me Know Your Moon is there in every step of the journey.
Listen/Watch Here – Youtube
Directed By: Triana Hernandez
Camera By: Nina Renee
Production Assistant: Sarah Occhino
Make Up By: Nadine Muller
Edited By: Sam Mapplebeck
Colour Grade By: Jenna Eriksen
Listen Here – Soundcloud
Written and Recorded By: Ghostemane
Carbomb Guitars Written and Performed By: Wavy Jone$
Mastered By: Arthur Rizk
In the grand time that Pittsburgh has been established as a musical background, the city’s jazz influence is monumental. Not only is the city well known for the Hill District which had a booming jazz age in the 1920s and on, but as the city of Pittsburgh adapts, so do the people and music inside the town limits.
Scott is one of the Pittsburgh musicians that has an immediate sound behind him, through the waves and samples that he can find; C. Scott can manipulate art between his fingertips. There is something special about The Pittsburgh Diaries where he manages to wrap the early funk sounds, even some jazz elements of sporadic percussive sets that links everything under one roof.
With the first track “Climb On”, space plays a huge factor on the introduction from C. Scott as he continues to stack and layer these various noise pieces together. Almost as if he was a masonry contractor, C. Scott goes with a clasping hi-hat and synth chords as the foundations. As “Climb On” begins to open the door of sound, the vibrancy of the sampled vocals and the sudden rush of bass lines flood the listener. It is overpowering as the rhythms dance together and form this symbiotic nature where C. Scott is the conductor.
As the following track, “Hands Free” forms a backbone with this crunching snare snap and becomes one of the head-bobbing movements of The Pittsburgh Diaries. There are these moments that appear through C. Scott’s extremities as he can masterfully capture this heat within the summertime disco. As the beat bounces along and becomes droning, the music takes over and continues over this bumping push and pull within the beat.
When he moves onto the final piece of “At Ease” which is in collaboration with producer OG Buscrates. The two work together, giving a spaced out, but still gripping piece of electric soul. As the funky beat continues, both C. Scott and Buscrates work to be a superpower of comic-book color and animation. With the spectacles of lasers and the consistent up-beat, “At Ease” is a fulfilling closer to The Pittsburgh Diaries.
The practically golden hands of C. Scott capture the beauty of crate digging and dusty records. The links between the electronic world and analog instruments are not fair from each other, The Pittsburgh Diaries connect that world of old and new in perfect, synonymous action.
“All of my life I’ve been a crab in a bucket,” describes the uplifted Choo Jackson on his newest record Anime 2. The positive reflections that follow behind him are frequent as if he looks into the world’s often cold eyes and can smile back without hesitation as hip-hop’s hippy.
From the first introductory handshakes that comes in the form of “Prayers from the Sky”, Jackson is immediately hitting the scene in a bright, but elegant display. His vocal approach is laid back, but still progressive as he weaves between being able to connect the ties of success and ignoring the rear-view, dashing toward this more authentic percussive set and string-heavy production. “I could make a million talking ‘bout a Draco, but what happens when I’m a million days old and look up at my grandkids and they talking kilos and pesos, lil demons, I don’t wanna face those,” Jackson describes in this verse that has to inflict a smile. He is realistic behind his work but reaches into the ether for these more abstract ideas that makes Anime 2 have a conflicting dichotomy behind it.
While the record spins, Jackson moves through several tracks, “Those Games (Hey)” and “Gold Medal” before reaching “Loner” which was one of his standout singles. The mood shifts abruptly and becomes daunting, and almost constricting in a sense. His voice suddenly changes from the always smiling, wide-eyed expression to a more sullen, almost existential depiction. With the piano that begins to haunt the listener, creating this mental weight that is still elegant, but has affliction behind it. The beat transition is covered by a gentle rain and incoming thunderstorm that leads into one of the heavier, more hip-hop styled tracks.
A Black Sabbath-esque sample comes from the production of CLOCKWORK DJ, who was known for both producing and being the touring DJ for the Pittsburgh Superhero Mac Miller. With CLOCK’s production over Jackson’s vocals, they create this creeping, almost jungle crawl into the midnight hour. “The Letter B” was one of the monumental tracks that connects Anime 2 into this consistently shifting animal that can bounce from tears to
rage in moments. “Been there, I been there, been there, been there. Hey, down on the floor I been there. Hey, mansion, you ain’t never been in there,” describes Jackson in this boastful, but necessary flex that wraps up into those the ominous, drowning chords.
Jackson however, fades back into the organic, more flourishing sound of “Find Myself Again” by reflecting through these synth chords that are warm and almost embrace the listener. The drums behind the production are complex and use these hi-hat clasps that fade in-and-out of consciousness. Jackson is a surfer that rides over the flowing instrumentation before coming to a final hook where he explains, “And I can’t keep my hopes and all my dreams to myself.”
From Florida to Pittsburgh, Atlanta to L.A., Jackson has this overbearing presence behind his sound. As Anime 2 emerges out from the shadows of production, heartbreak, and emotional attachment, Jackson dawns the gap-toothed smile that never seems to tarnish.
Listen Here – Youtube