The Traits, 1967, from left: Bob Creaturo, Bobby Williams (on drums), Mike Carroll, Phil Daddona, Jim Klieforth (on keyboard, obscured) and Artie Williams. Photo from Mike Carroll, courtesy of his family.
I corresponded with Jim Klieforth of the Traits in 2009, about a year after writing about them in some detail in regard to the Ren-Vell Records Battle of the Bands LP. Below is our conversation from that time.
Jime Klieforth: My late brother [Charles Klieforth] was a bit of a wheeler-dealer who wasn’t musical but wanted to be in the rock business in some capacity, nurturing a fantasy of being an impresario. I’d been playing guitar and keyboards for a couple of years and our family home had an empty basement that was suitable for a group to rehearse in, so he sweet-talked me and the best musician-singers he knew into forming a group with him as manager. I’d never met any of these guys but was very impressed with the line-up’s talent and professionalism.
Back then, a group needed to have a couple of hours of material well rehearsed for public performances and we had enough musical common ground to pull that together within two weeks. My brother Chuck and his assistant, Don Reid, started aggressively pursuing work for the band and getting us publicity. Almost overnight, we were playing every local venue and from then on out, our rehearsals were jammed with our local contemporaries (mostly schoolgirls) eager to monitor our development. It was an odd and unexpected social change for all of us.
I wish I could say that we were friendly with other bands at that time but the truth is that we saw all of them as competition that needed to be vanquished. The Orphans, for example, who didn’t shine on the Renvell record, turned into a force to be reckoned with when Bobby Mayo (later of Peter Frampton fame) joined up.
We’d had a real advantage by starting out with a good rhythm section and an extraordinary guitarist (Dom Chicerchia, who left the band just before the Ted Mack show we did) but our competitors began acquiring skills at a pace that caused us to get very serious about playing well and refining all aspects of our performance. In an unfortunate reversal of what usually happens, the only recordings of the band were from very early on, before we really developed musically.
I was born in White Plains. Jimmy Carpenito of the Mystics told me Renvell’s studio was next to Gun Town on Central Ave, a store I vaguely remember from my childhood. Hard to believe there was a recording studio on Central Ave! I’m in Brooklyn, now, but my family’s still in White Plains and Yonkers.
As I recall it, Renvell was a second floor walkup, a big room that struck me, even then, as being quite low budget, a shoestring operation with cheap and/or antique equipment. Given how few records carry the Renvell label, I have to assume that most of their business was geared to commercial jingles for local businesses and radio play. I ran into the guy who ran it (I believe his name was Joe Renda) years later, when he owned Northlake Studios in White Plains.
I reminded him of the album and told him I’d been on it and he replied with a story that I thought at the time was an overblown fabrication. According to him, a couple of big DJ’s in England had fallen in love with the Battle of The Bands album and by repeatedly featuring it, had cultivated the development of the garage band sound there, setting the stage for punk. As he told it, the album was selling for $200.00 a pop there (in 1980 dollars) and “High On a Cloud” had received extensive airplay. It turned out that he’d been telling the truth, and the song became known well enough to end up being covered by the Pandoras. Since then it has been put on more compilations than I’ve been able to keep track of. In what is a common story about recordings of that era, no request for usage in these compilations has ever been requested from the band and no compensation has ever been forthcoming. Some of my former band mates are unhappy about this, but personally, I’m delighted that the recording has been archived and perpetuated as a minor archetype of the true garage band sound.
Traits to appear on Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour on Sunday, September 17, 1967
Q. When Dom left the band, who replaced him for the Ted Mack show, playing guitar behind his neck on the film?
That was Phil Daddona, who had to attempt to learn Dom’s “behind the neck” trick very quickly. As you can see from the film, he wasn’t particularly adept at it, whereas Dom had been the pre-Hendrix master of it.
Jim Klieforth (2009)
The Traits on “High on a Cloud”:
Mike Carroll – lead vocals
Dom Chicherchia – lead guitar
Jim Klieforth – keyboard
Bob “Creature” Creaturo – guitar
Bobby Williams – drums
Unidentified bass player
The Traits on Ted Mack (July 31, 1967, aired Sept. 17, 1967):
Mike Carroll – lead vocals
Phil Daddona – lead guitar
Jim Klieforth – keyboard
Bob “Creature” Creaturo – guitar
Bobby Williams – drums
Artie Williams – bass
The band seems to have slowly split up, as Mike Carroll was drafted in ’68, but must have come back at some point to be the lead vocalist on the Nobody Loves the Hulk release, from 1969.
Bobby Williams reportedly died some years ago, details are unknown. Three other Traits members have passed: Bob Creaturo on September 12, 2014, Mike Carroll on March 15, 2018, and Dom Chicherchia on August 24, 2021.
The Traits at the entrance to the Pelham Parkway IRT station (the 5 train)
More info can be found in the accompanying booklet to the Mojo-Bone release and Ugly Things #66.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Seethe Unleashes Crushing New Single “Critic // Critique” Blending Nu Metal Aggression With Modern Alternative Metal Chaos
New Track Out Now Released: July 25, 2026
Stream & Purchase: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/seethe/critic–critique-2
Bandcamp: https://seethe1.bandcamp.com
FFO: Linkin Park, Static-X, Bring Me The Horizon
Emerging from the chaos and uncertainty of the Covid-19 pandemic, Seethe has continued carving out a unique space within the modern metal landscape. Now, the project unleashes its latest hard-hitting single, “Critic // Critique,” delivering a powerful collision of early 2000s nu metal emotion, alternative metal intensity, and the distorted electronic aggression of today’s trap metal movement.
Born in 2020 from the creative vision of Patrick McElravy , vocalist of 9 Stitch Method , Seethe was created as an outlet for raw emotion, frustration, and experimentation. Combining manic, emotionally charged vocal performances with crushing riffs, electronic textures, and a modern sonic edge, Seethe bridges the gap between the sounds that defined a generation and the evolving future of heavy music.
“ Critic // Critique is a hard hitting song about facing the adversity against the conditioned ‘normality’ of society,” explains McElravy. The track confronts the pressure to conform while embracing the struggle of standing apart and challenging expectations.
The new single showcases Seethe’s continued evolution beyond its early trap metal influences, expanding into a heavier and more diverse sound incorporating elements of alternative metal and deathcore. The track serves as another glimpse into the upcoming project “Blue Notes & Old Doses,” where Seethe continues pushing boundaries and exploring the darker corners of modern metal.
Since its formation, Seethe has quickly gained momentum, sharing stages with acts including King 810 and Twiztid , while also earning recognition through features in Nu Metal: The Definitive Guide . With each release, Seethe continues proving that the spirit of nu metal is alive and evolving through a new generation of artists.
For “Critic // Critique,” Patrick McElravy handled all vocal writing, recording, and performances, while Jacob Lizotte of Dark Cabin Studios composed and produced the instrumental. The track was mixed and mastered by Gus Wallner of You Think Music , bringing together a polished yet punishing sound built for fans of heavy music’s past, present, and future.
With a fearless approach and a refusal to follow a predetermined formula, Seethe stands ready to make an impact with a sound that is emotional, aggressive, and unapologetically different.
Seethe is:
Patrick McElravy – Vocals
Production Credits: Vocals written, recorded, and performed by Patrick McElravy Instrumental composed and produced by Jacob Lizotte of Dark Cabin Studios Mixed and mastered by Gus Wallner of You Think Music
Listen to “Critic // Critique” now: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/seethe/critic–critique-2
Check out the video:
A lineup that brings together well-known names from the worlds of rock and metal does not automatically guarantee great music. Iconic is a project featuring iconic veterans of the scene, and the band’s name alone naturally creates certain expectations. With II, the group now delivers their second studio album. Iconic consists of Nathan James, Michael Sweet, Joel Hoekstra,… Continue Reading →
Sixty years is a great span for one’s career, especially when said career is as steady as Richard Thompson has been, and though his records can hardly surprise any listener now, they remain solid works which never fail to impress. … Continue reading →
Karen Adilyan Armenian Music Duduk Homelend Review
This song is a gift; it envelops listeners with its ethnic breath. The music evokes cinematic imagery that transports the imagination. One might find it best to listen with closed eyes. Doing so makes you feel like a drone soaring over the beautiful landscapes of Armenia that inspired this piece.
The prominent use of the Duduk truly enhances the song’s appeal. Its melody carries Eastern vibes, suggesting the presence of dancers enchanted by its rhythms. The music evokes imagery of odalisques, captivating the heart of anyone who listens. The arrangement is epic and intense, featuring sublime orchestration that pairs beautifully with the Duduk.
Strings create a lush foundation beneath the Duduk’s melody. This interaction heightens the experience, drawing listeners deeper into the emotional terrain. As the rhythm builds, it hypnotizes, allowing listeners to take flight on a wave of sound. The connection between the Duduk and the orchestral elements showcases a remarkable blend of influences.
Armenian Music Duduk Homelend – Sound and Atmosphere
Such artistry culminates in a piece that could easily serve as a film soundtrack. Its immersive qualities suggest narratives waiting to be told visually. This instrumental work is not only impressive; it sparks admiration for a significant composer. Whether for relaxation or inspiration, this music speaks volumes.
Listeners gain a sense of appreciation for Armenian culture through this track. Each note carries rich history, making the experience feel profound. The music invites listeners on a journey, showcasing the depth of emotion possible through instrumentation. The grandeur of this composition is undeniable.
Musical arrangements lead the listener on an odyssey through sound. The Duduk’s timbre resonates deeply, providing a spiritual connection. As the composition unfolds, it reveals layers that continually stimulate the senses. This engagement offers more than mere entertainment; it inspires reflection.
Armenian Music Duduk Homelend – Performance and Production
Adilyan’s artistry shines brightly. He captures the essence of a unique cultural heritage, offering it to a broader audience. The balance of traditional elements with modern sensibilities creates a timeless piece.
This piece stands as a harmonious blend of emotion and artistry. It transcends geographical limitations, creating a universal dialogue through sound. The intricate arrangements speak to a deep understanding of musical craftsmanship.
This piece is a remarkable exploration of sound and sentiment. It inspires creativity and fosters a deep appreciation for its origins. The Duduk’s vocals intertwined with orchestral support deliver an unforgettable experience. It stands as a formidable testament to the power of music.
Delve into this musical journey; allow it to guide your thoughts and feelings. “Armenian Music Duduk Homelend” is a bridge connecting listeners to a rich, cultural narrative. Experience the depths of emotion with each note and rhythm.
The EP opens with “Be there in a Bite.” This track immediately showcases the artist’s psychedelic style. Its retro composition draws inspiration from the sounds of the 1980s. The melody evokes a sense of upliftment, pulling the listener into its exuberant energy.
Following this, “The Man on a Tree Branch” introduces a near-western vibe. It features an infectious rhythm that envelops the audience. This song also presents darker undertones, revealing the artist’s capacity for complex emotions. The juxtaposition between light and shadow captivates the listener.
Next is “A Heartbeat Away from the Core.” This ballad carries a 1960s essence, marked by a steady piano rhythm. The delicate melody is almost therapeutic, soothing the listener’s mind. Its sentimentality resonates deeply, allowing for a moment of introspection.
Rainbow in Your Eyes – Sound and Atmosphere
“Still in Love with You” follows, presenting another heartfelt and intense ballad. The emotional sincerity captured in this song strikes a chord. It highlights the artist’s ability to convey raw feelings through music. Each note feels genuine, and the listener is drawn into the narrative.
The title track, “Rainbow in Your Eyes,” exudes charm with its guitar work and chorus. The melody is intriguingly nocturnal and nostalgic. There is a sense of mystery woven throughout this composition. The artist’s visionary qualities shine through, showcasing a unique compositional style that stands out remarkably.
The EP concludes with “Solo e sempre gli esseri umani.” This song, delivered in Italian, creates a dreamlike and delirious atmosphere. It transports listeners to a bubble that spins in a unique dimension. This track encapsulates the psychedelic essence of the 1970s while delivering a distinctive vision.
Rainbow in Your Eyes – Performance and Production
LOUFO’s EP presents a thrilling journey through various musical themes. The artist’s creative range shines brilliantly. Each song invites listeners to explore diverse emotional landscapes. They perfectly blend elements of nostalgia and modernity.
The overall cohesion of the EP is impressive. It is refreshing to encounter an artist who fuses these styles. The intricate layers of each track enrich the listening experience. LOUFO demonstrates a keen understanding of how to engage audiences.
The production quality enhances the listening experience greatly. Attention to detail is evident across all tracks. Each instrument complements the vocal arrangements, creating a harmonious effect. The blending of different musical eras adds depth and richness.
In a competitive music landscape, LOUFO stands out with this release. The combination of retro influences and modern sensibilities creates a unique identity. Fans of alternative and indie genres will find a lot to love here. The ingenuity present in “Rainbow in Your Eyes” resonates well beyond the closing notes.
The single “Your God” opens with an atmospheric, almost ritualistic introduction. It features ethereal pads accompanied by a mysterious and intense guitar arpeggio. This establishes the tone that feels contemplative and powerful right from the start.
As the song progresses, it accelerates into a vigorous section where the guitars push forward with a hard, direct sound. The energy here is palpable, creating an atmosphere that grabs the listener’s attention. For a moment, the composition holds back with a syncopated rhythm, creating tension before unleashing a powerful hard rock explosion.
The band demonstrates a high level of musicianship throughout this track. Their experience in songwriting is evident. Each detail of the music reflects their dedication and time spent in rehearsal spaces, honing their art. The harmonic and rhythmic transitions are expertly executed, reinforcing the impression of seasoned professionals at work.
Your God – Sound and Atmosphere
The vocal delivery is striking, featuring a high and determined timbre. The lead singer’s voice resonates with a quality reminiscent of 1980s hard rock bands, merging nostalgia with modernity. This strong performance adds an engaging quality to the overall composition.
A standout moment occurs around the two-minute mark. The song shifts, momentarily changing direction before introducing a rhythmic bridge. The bridge has a marching quality that makes you point the horn skyward, celebrating the sacred fire of rock. This chorus-like section inspires an almost communal experience.
The lyrical themes delve into the relationship between humanity and the divine. The intensity of the music enhances the weight of the words, emphasizing a deep reverence for personal beliefs and collective experiences.
Your God – Performance and Production
Throughout the piece, the dynamics are perfectly balanced. Moments of calm contrast with intense bursts of energy, expertly guiding the listener through an emotional journey. The arrangement showcases the band’s understanding of pacing and tension, allowing the music to ebb and flow while maintaining engagement.
The production quality is notable, with each instrument clearly articulated in the mix. The guitars cut through the layers with precision, while the bass provides a solid foundation. The drums propel the song forward, delivering a driving force that keeps the energy high.
This single is an intense and powerful offering that showcases the musicianship and passion of the band. It is a worthy addition to any hard rock enthusiast’s playlist. This single is highly recommended for anyone seeking an invigorating musical experience.
The Psychedelic Sound, January 1968, front left: Linda Lizzi and Tina Bauer, back from left: Jim Schelley, Ronnie Amato and Tom Berger. Not pictured: bassist Kevin Kerr.
The Psychedelic Sound were one of the bands who recorded at Earl Kennett’s studio in Kinderhook, New York.
Lacquer with both songs of the Psychedelic Sound 45The band released two original songs, “Sorry Baby – Goodbye” / “Stars Cease to Shine” on Sunny-Side Records 0014, Sunnyside being the name of the Kennett family’s horse farm where the studio was located.
Members included:
Linda Rizzi – vocals
Tina Bauer – drums
Jim Schelley – guitar
Ronnie Amato – vocals and keyboards(?)
Tom Berger – guitar
Kevin Kerr – bass
plans include making another recordThe Kingston Daily Freeman reported on January 22, 1968 that: “the Psychedelic Sound would take part in the annual March of Dimes benefit show Jan. 28 at municipal auditorium. They recently cut two successful platters, Sorry Baby – Goodbye and Stars Cease to Shine.”
A Daily Freeman notice from July, 1968 remarks:
The Psychedelic Sound, a five-piece musical group consisting of teenagers from Kingston and Lake Katrine, won the Battle of the Bands, sponsored by the Saugerties JayCees, which was held July 3 at Cantine Field.
The group has played for many benefits including the American Legion, Band Battles and Cerebral Palsy, and are under the direction of Mary Rizzi, Lake Katrine.
Mary Rizzi, presumably Linda’s mother, is also credited as producer of the 45, as M. Lizzi. The band probably broke up as Linda Rizzi and presumably others were attending college in the fall.
After the Psychedelic Sound, Kevin Kerr is mentioned as the bassist for the Contemporary Souls, in a photo that ran in the Daily Freeman showing guitarists Jim Kluepfel and Guy Walker with drummer Ted Blankschan for a YMCA/YWCA/Kingston Recreation dance on Dedrick Street in August, 1968.
Ronnie Amato played organ at the Cedar Grove Inn in Saugerties and Liguori’s Restaurant in Rosendale.
Tina Bauer had previously been in another local group called 3 Hits and a Miss with a photo that ran in the Daily Freeman in September, 1966 for a dance at Ulster Park Grange Hall.
3 Hits And A Miss, from left: Sal Greco, lead guitar; Tony Greco, vocalist, Tina Bauer, drummer and Al Pace, rhythm guitar
Thank you to Achille Brunet for tracking down the news clips seen here. Achille has his own site, Strange Lights to cover other bands of this period.
There used to be a dozen such blogs and sites going to cover ’60s ‘garage’ music, but the number of active ones has dwindled in recent years. I hope more start up, because there are too many bands from this era whose history is still undocumented.
Years ago, at home in rural Arkansas, in the foothills of the Ozark mountains, Ashley McBryde decided to dig a hole. Big enough for her to get inside. Certain boundaries were set by her parents: it couldn’t be somewhere that livestock, stray dogs or neighbours could accidentally fall into, and it had to have safety parameters. Otherwise, they told her, “knock yourself out”.
Mission approved, Ashley took a shovel and a pickaxe, went outside and dug that hole. She was 12.
“It’s kind of a weird thing to do, but I’m glad I grew up that way,” the Grammy-winning country maverick tells us today, sitting in an upscale hotel suite overlooking London’s Hyde Park. “Or if I wanted to build a ladder, there was no ‘run to Home Depot and buy lumber’, because ‘with what job, with what money? Here’s a hatchet, go out in the woods, get what you need.’ It had elements that were very backwards, but the superpowers I got from that upbringing, you can’t get those in a book, you can’t get them in school. I wouldn’t trade that.”
Immaculate but rock’n’roll in jeans, T-shirt and boots – fresh make-up, arms toned by boxing, and brightly covered in tattoos – McBryde, 42, combines Southern friendliness with the sharp focus of a seasoned TV and radio interviewee. Over 45 minutes she relaxes, enthusing about her favourite old Nashville joints, cooing at dogs in the park below and showing us the pocket knife inked on her right forearm. She learned to whittle as a kid, and generally still carries one.
“Well, with flying it’s really difficult to remember to put them in checked baggage,” she concedes. “But otherwise yes, I carry. And in my band, anytime anybody goes: ‘Anybody got a knife on them?’ every single person reaches into their pocket and produces this tool that they carry at all times!”
(Image credit: Nathan Chapman)
More deeply than any of McBryde’s previous four albums, new one Wild evokes the sounds, sights and stories of her childhood. Produced by John Osborne (the elder, guitarist half of duo The Brothers Osborne), it finds McBryde planting her boots firmly in rock soil, stirring heavy guitars with shrieking bluegrass and emotive melodies. Think Loretta Lynn trading experiences and ideas with Black Stone Cherry and Bruce Springsteen. As a listener, it’s like being in a country dive, and at a rock show, and reading a great collection of short stories – capturing the grit and beefiness of her live show, in a way that her other releases haven’t.
For those who have only heard her American radio ballads (e.g. 2020 country hit One Night Standards, 2023’s Light On In The Kitchen), that live muscle often comes as a shock.
“We sound more like we do live on this record,” she says. “And that’s a luxury I didn’t know I needed so badly. I’ve watched some audiences be really confused, if all they’ve heard is what’s been on American radio. Because then we would go play a live show, and we would open with [2023 rocker] Blackout Betty, and they were so confused! I’m happy this one presents a better snapshot of what you’ll experience with us live.”
The album charts her life through to 2022, when she decided to stop drinking. That year she became a member of the Grand Ole Opry. Four years later and still sober, on Wild she takes a wide, autobiographical approach, going deeper into the people, places and things that really shaped her. Meticulously crafted songs, some of them written years ago and previously deemed (by label and other industry folks) too raw, too swampy, “just too much”.
Now, it’s all here. This, you sense, is who Ashley McBryde really is – as well as a bracing antidote to Nashville’s glossier country pop and bro-heavy hybrids. Collaborations with respected if lesser-known songwriters (e.g. Terri-Jo Box, Lori McKenna, Lisa Carver, Lauren Hungate…), championed by McBryde, are peppered across the track-list. McBryde’s late friend Randall Clay wrote feral, boot-stomping lead single Rattlesnake Preacher.
“There are those of us that really care about crafting a song, whether that’s to pull on your heart strings, or tell a story that provides a mirror for you, or that provides an antithesis. And then there are those that just go, I dunno, ‘Leg rhymes with keg’… and they make gajillions of dollars, and sing ‘leg rhymes with keg’ to billions of people.
“And you’re allowed to do that,” she adds, sincerely. “And I could do that. But then there would be one less of the thing that I am.”
To understand Ashley McBryde today, you have to go back to Mammoth Springs, Arkansas in the 80s and 90s. The family home was at the end of a long dirt road with a low-water bridge. The family kept cattle. They drove 45 minutes to school. Growing up, McBryde and her five elder siblings whittled with pocket knives, went fishing and rode horses and mules out in the woods for days.
“There’s six of us kids, lots and lots of trees,” she recalls. “I can feel the dirt between my teeth when I talk about it. And I know that red dirt is the name of a genre now, but the dirt is red, especially up in the foothills of the Ozarks.”
Her mother looked after the family. Her father was a preacher and a “tyrant”. The nearest building was the church – located at the end of their driveway.
“He made it so that any male anywhere is to be feared,” she says, a low note of anger creeping in, “and you are to be in complete submission to at all times. I was always in trouble, because I was always going: ‘What do you mean don’t raise your voice? He raised his voice, I have to raise mine or he won’t hear me’ [slaps one hand hard on the other], that’s not gonna fly.”
The presence of her parents comes out in the familial imagery of Hand Me Downs. Branching out into a sadly common situation, the devastating Lines In The Carpet tells of wives trapped in domestic isolation: ‘When you’re born that pretty, you get to be Miss Mississippi and nothing else.’ From an early age, McBryde knew that could never be her.
“I watched my mother raise all six of us and go unthanked, but the acknowledgement she deserved for the vast thing she was tackling at all times, and watching her feel small…”
She pauses, slightly disarmed.
“That feels gross just saying it. And my sister Aubri, who’s so strong, did the same thing, and was married, had two beautiful children, they’re married for thirty-four years… They married when she was eighteen. I don’t remember seeing her much, and now I know it’s because she was behind the vacuum.”
When McBryde was 17, her father left. There’s heat in her voice when she says this. Suddenly you wonder if that’s at the heart of Wild’s tougher rock highlights like the hard-punching Arkansas Mud. That tension between fear, anger and inspiration – things that might drive someone to get out, though not without leaving a few scars.
“Looking back at it, I get frustrated because I was such a scared child,” she says. “I was scared of everything. I had plenty of protection and a roof over my head, but I was constantly terrified that any minute Jesus was going to rip the sky open and that I’d be left here. That isn’t religion, that’s control, that’s terrifying a child into being too scared to do anything.”
(Image credit: Laura Halse)
At college in Arkansas she studied the French horn, and played her first bar gig (“and loved it”). By 19 she was working as a songwriter in Memphis, living in ‘stab ’n’ shoot’ complexes, medicating her anxieties with music and alcohol. Even so, it was a turning point, drawing her out of the fundamentalist fear that had governed her young life.
“It’s like, you’ve been fed the information that you’re inherently bad, and you will never do enough things to not be inherently bad…” her eyes widen, “what is there to lose? It doesn’t matter if I’m damned at home, or in Memphis, or in Nashville, or because I didn’t make it to church on time, or because I play in a bar on Friday night. So I can do anything I want, because nothing I do will ever be good enough.”
In 2005 she moved into a storage unit in Nashville. She now lives in a “less congested” spot outside the city.
Booze and bars were part of her world for years, feeding into sad, darkly funny moments in her records. Sometimes drinking was fun. In time, it got ugly. Wild ballad The Bottle Tells Me So reflects her blacked out nights and days. Finally, in 2022, she reached a precipice.
“It was definitely ‘change or die’. And I had done that many, many times, and waking up for the millionth time in not my house, in not my clothes, don’t know where my phone is, I have no idea how I got here. Where is my truck? Where are my keys? Does anyone know that I’m safe?”
That millionth time, she went to find water and found her team waiting in the living room. Just recently, she asked her manager who called him back then, to say where she was. He told her: “You did”.
She started treatment that day. Pieces of her life have since shifted into sharper focus, fuelling the rich vignettes and rootsy rock cocktails of Wild. Boxing sessions help. So does her close circle of band, crew, friends and family. Like almost any recovering alcoholic, she has days when the temptation to drink returns.
“When that happens, my question to myself is: ‘Okay, you can have it. Will you trade everything from then to now, being a member of the Grand Ol’ Opry, winning a Grammy, like, will you trade it for that?’ Get out of here! Course, I wouldn’t!”
Unclouded by hangovers, she relishes surviving staples of old Nashville. Bluegrass nights at The Station Inn. The local songwriting community, largely unsung but so crucial to the city’s musical ecosystem. She has a great relationship with her mum and stepdad. Siblings Aubri and Dan are close allies. Her father is in poor health and lives up a mountain. She sees him about every other year.
“I imagine that I’ve been watching a series for forty-two years,” she reasons, “and the actor that played my father has aged a bit, so they had to recast it. So when I see his face, I try not to associate the terrorist, the tyrant, with him, because the person playing him now is this old man who lives on a mountain, he moves kind of slow, none of his kids live within two hours of him, and they don’t visit very often…”
She shrugs. “And he’s got some cool stories. We agree on knives and guns and conserving wildlife. So we can keep it at that.”
The Martyr comes crawling out of Los Angeles with Under The Belljar, a song that sounds as though somebody found a stack of bruised ’80s cassettes beneath a freeway and decided the only sensible response was to plug in, turn everything up, and make the concrete tremble. The guitars combine the tar-black force of Killing Joke with the sweeping melodic architecture of The Chameleons, while the bass descends into the dense, brooding depths of The Cure’s Disintegration era. Above it all, the vocals carry the grave authority and dramatic phrasing of Echo & the Bunnymen’s Ian McCulloch.
This is music with grease beneath its fingernails, loud enough to rattle the fixtures yet alert to every emotional fracture hiding inside the singer’s recollection of affection, escape, and irreversible distance from home.
Despair carries a beat in this track: emotional confinement coexists with a riff built for raised fists and blown-out speakers. Atmospheric synthesizers widen the frame without softening the impact, and the guitar work keeps finding small hooks inside the heaviness. There is plenty of gothic rock in the architecture, though the performance retains the scuffed immediacy of a rehearsal room where everyone has arrived carrying separate grievances.
The riff is almost cheerful, which makes the emotional wreckage underneath it hit harder. Under The Belljar moves with the cruel momentum of someone trying to outrun a persistent memory. The lyrics circle around lost intimacy, missed chances, and the maddening uncertainty of whether the speaker abandoned someone or survived them. Every recollection recedes as soon as it appears, turning love into a vanishing point glimpsed through dirty glass. Regret keeps tightening its grip, yet the song never sinks into self-pity; it keeps moving, shoulders hunched, teeth clenched, dragging its doubt behind it like a busted amplifier.
Directed by Shutter Visual, the video plants the band around a highway overpass, surrounded by anonymous concrete, passing traffic, and the peculiar emptiness that gathers beneath roads built to send everybody elsewhere. Its strange, dream-blurred imagery recalls mid-nineties alternative television, when bands could look displaced, exhausted, and vaguely dangerous without appearing to have spent three days discussing brand identity. The setting suits the song beautifully: everything is in motion above them, while they remain caught underneath, playing inside the emotional pressure chamber named by the title.
Watch below:
Under The Belljar finds The Martyr balancing brute force with wounded reflection, producing a track that feels familiar without settling for museum-piece revivalism. The past keeps retreating, the guitars keep grinding, and the band keeps chasing the point where memory finally breaks open.
Listen to Under The Belljar below and order the single here.
If you love this music: 
