Heathen Disco Music, Etc. Reviews #0157 – Year-Ends Pt. 7 (January 2, 2026)

Happy fuckin’ new years. Let’s forget it but never forgive it.

Here now are my arbitrary top 10 favorite albums of 2025. I love all these equally, so treat this as the map and go forth on its paths.

RYAN DAVIS AND THE ROADHOUSE BAND New Threats From the Soul 2xLP (Sophomore Lounge)

What I wrote (#0111, July 22, 2025): “You would be hard pressed to discount Davis’ works – over 150 records and tapes, mostly of others’ music, released on his own label, Sophomore Lounge, for small but attentive audiences; the work he did in setting up Louisville’s Cropped Out festival, which attendees are still talking about; his own music as Roadhouse, in State Champion and Tropical Trash against the works with the Roadhouse Band of now. But he presents a true boomerang arc, where most people grind themselves into paste trying to figure out what to do in six months what they had previously a lifetime to put together. New Threats does the exact same thing 2023’s Dancing on the Edge did, but it’s that much more accomplished, a style that rolls up elements of Americana like a katamari, with an active, curious mind at the center that keeps adding lines to the story that resonate so deeply you might miss the next one, but which go on long enough that you’ll discover a new one next time.”

How I’m feeling now: kind of elated for the guy, really, and how well he’s handling this bump in exposure and recognition. I got a record in the mail from Ryan Davis last week (from Arbor Labor Union, review forthcoming) – he is still doing exactly what he’s been doing for years, and I hope that his whole universe can include the music he backs as well as that he performs. The balance of greatness and humility is never struck so well. I really appreciate this record, and touring on it got me to have a nice in-person convo with Richie Charles and Mike Polizze at a time where I really needed to see some familiar faces, so thank you Ryan.

APPLEJUICE We All Dissolve LP (self-released)

What I wrote (#0116, August 8, 2025): “It’s somewhat of a more measured, tangentially New Romantic take on what [bassist/vocalist Steve] Peffer’s done recently in Peer Pressure Zombies (or way back in Razak Solar System), with a synth sweep to it and big cannon drums that resemble The Psychedelic Furs if “Dumb Waiters” or “Mr. Jones” were their most famous songs instead of “Pretty in Pink” or “Love My Way,” and Richard Butler’s vocals told you things instead of sang in the abstract.”

How I’m feeling now: a good bit more bullish on this one, which made regular rotation in my car. The three anchor songs – “Fitness Center,” “Eiffel Tower” and closer “Freeware” are among my favorite songs this year, and for a guy who’s been in about 17 bands, most of which share more similarities than differences, that the strengths and refinements continue to grow. It’s heavy and blunt, but it mixes up heart and soul in the way we all do when we yearn for something. Like if the A Frames wrote more in the direction of “Surveillance Camera.”

KING BLOOD Eye I Aye Ivy LP (Petty Bunco)

What I wrote (#0077, March 18, 2025): “... a real summation of efforts in the canon of night music. The blowouts of the previous editions are recognized but not the only textures at play across this PSF-level trip into midnight blues, dirt-regal psych, Stooge-ly atmosphere and hesher mythology, like a Blue Öyster Cult t-shirt come to gnarly life, possessing its owner with guitarist grandeur and glowing eyes at mere contact with their skin.”

How I’m feeling now: a little smug but also kinda disappointed this fell off of most listeners’ radar and year-ends. Every King Blood record improves upon the last one, so whatever you get is the high end model out there for its time. We don’t get enough of this music, but at the expense of quality I’ll happily wait a few odd years for Ry Wharton to get the details down and lucidly, electrically correct. We also got three cassettes’ worth of spacier notes in these directions from another of Ry’s projects (Vampire Bluesss, found in my other year-end posts) which should punch your card through to Valhalla until next time.

LAVENDER FLU Tracing the Sand By the Pool LP (In the Red)

What I wrote (#0065, February 4, 2025): “... breaks rank by being their brightest effort to date, channeling their dirge up towards assembly-line pop of the ‘60s, in the Glen Campbell / Penn-Oldham / B.J. Thomas / Jimmy Webb vein ... whatever clouds that had been bringin’ ‘em down over the past ten years appear to have lifted, leaving us with a fully skyward view from the cellar, all the protections afforded in the past brought out for display, for sale on a card table in the noonday sun. It's a defining effort from a band that’s always shied from definition, and honestly the best point to jump in since their all-consuming first album from 10 years ago.”

How I’m feeling now: even stronger about this one, and after finally having caught them in the live setting (R.I.P. The Fallen Log) I’ll put forth that this is one of the great unsung bands of the past ten years. They started with an absolute all-timer, super personal depresso broken mind legend (Heavy Air) and continued forth on AM gold-meets-landmine emotive psych wounds on their studio efforts, and produced singular, mind-scrambling improv works on their own in between. They’re kinda at where the Flaming Lips were in terms of creativity right before the big hit, but unlike the Flaming Lips, they do not suck, or have made instant caricatures of themselves.

Also in my requiescat section from the last newsletter, I left out a big one. R.I.P. John Whitson, who introduced me to this band way back when, and for his innumerable contributions to good music and the people who recognize it and make it real.

WILLIE LANE Bobcat Turnaround LP (Cord-Art)

What I wrote (#0070, February 21, 2025): “On Bobcat Turnaround, for the first time, [Willie Lane] is singing, and bridging around the contributions of a very capable rhythm section (Sunburned’s Rob Thomas on bass, and percussionist Ryan Jewell). I guess I never really thought what his singing voice would be like, but as with the guitars on this one, he multitracks them, layering in harmonies and delay in this amazing, breathy voice that calls to mind the Stone Roses’ Ian Brown in his more casual, less angelic registers (think “Waterfall”) ... there’s a warm camaraderie here, and even when the bass and drums aren’t there they feel like they are; where on his previous records the isolation between the pieces could sometimes feel like a slammed door, this one’s an easygoing amble, through which he’s happy to show you all he’s got with superb, non-flash playing.”

How I’m feeling now: Even with the novelty of this one worn off, it’s coming from a true and sure place, a bent cosmic folk jammer with junk rock moves to spare. The new Steve Gunn is the polished side to this woolly groover.

G.I. JINX Mind Freak LP (Celluloid Lunch/Psychic Handshake)

What I wrote (#0090, May 16, 2025): “Grey sludge vomits forth nonstop from a duct in the Montreal area. No one knows when or where it was installed. It’s low to the ground, not connected to anything and can’t be turned off, just keeps spreading outward ... A band decided to form as a means to comment on this substance, and it’s G.I. Jinx, who embody its texture and cadence, and show the aggression that meets the moment of this problem which isn’t being solved anytime soon. The slow-mid onslaught moves like the sludge, alarming and ceaseless. This makes for a hell of a debut record in Mind Freak, like a mid-‘80s NYC baise de cochon ensemble clipping their temples on this one sharp corner in a low-ceilinged room, and when they come to someone’s spraypainted Missing Foundation stencils on them ... First record of 2025 to really embody the fucking cess of this year so far.”

How I’m feeling now: This is still the record I reach to whenever I need that sort of feel-bad boost, and 2025 really didn’t come close to getting better at it (outside of that Bag People reissue). Has a lot of the same charge as early Unsane, maybe some of the same riffs too (“Blazed Angel” comes damn close to “Slag”), but I’m not out for originality when I welcome in a sleep paralysis demon to my bed.

SEMI TRUCKS Georgia Overdrive LP (PPM)

What I wrote (#0088, April 25, 2025): “... burnin’ guitar pop, riffs that sound like they’re about to fall out of the group’s hands, a nearly firm grasp on a whole bunch of styles and levels of expression ’86-’93 style ... where that little bit of wobble is the thing that keeps it all together. The snarls say Further or Kurt Vile or some Creation-borne amp burners, but I’m getting into the ballads even harder: “Famethrower” isn’t knockin’ on Pavement’s door so much as it is getting comfortable with the idea of eternal life under the Hollywood sign ... it’s where things get quiet and close where [guitarist/vocalist Brendan] Sepe and bassist Bronwyn Bradshaw land it, the meltaway moments that find their beat and hover slowly around it, as if the big loud material is the novelty here.”

How I’m feeling now: Falls into an indelible sweet spot with Yo La Tengo up above, Rain Parade in the ground beneath, crash crew West Coast bespoke noise/indie pop from the Bay Area to the left, and barnburner rootsy sounds like Grace Rogers or Styrofoam Winos on the right. I’d like all these bands to be aware of each other and play shows together, so on the right night a lucky handful will have their emotional states heightened and drawn out in front of them through the will of their music. Felt kinda slept on as well, which is not cool. Wake ‘em up.

ARTIFICIAL GO Musical Chairs LP (Feel It)

What I wrote (#0093, May 13, 2025): “There are three bands that effectively occupy the total spirit of their DIY / ‘80s post-punk progenitors ... Tyvek (all eras), and Naked Roommate (esp. their demo). Cincinnati’s Artificial Go carves its name into the pole today. Driven but mannered, muted but bursting, plain, but with unmistakable natural curls, you couldn’t dream up a more perfect response to the Delta 5, Raincoats, Marine Girls, etc.”

How I’m feeling now: We’re in an era of sincere yet performative embodiment of a groovier time, and you see this in bands like Now and Sharp Pins and The Smashing Times and Cindy, and even Geese. This is all fine and good but when it comes time to get the mustard stain out of that velveteen lapel, you know some of them might not have the knowhow to proceed. Artificial Go elevates itself as a band above the fashion or the errant dining incident; they get the most out of a bubbly extension of ‘80s cusp post-punk antinormative rebellion, spanning the distance between the import 7” bin and that basement where The Cardboards or Hans Brinker & The Dykes play in Stephanie Beroes’ Debt Begins at 20. Coulda been on Teenbeat, coulda been on Rough Trade (or St. Pancras), but it’s here and now, and I’m hoping I can see them at the end of this month at the Hideout.

GRACE ROGERS Mad Dogs LP (Sophomore Lounge)

What I wrote (#0095, May 20, 2025): “This is Grace Rogers’ debut as far as we know, and despite having played traditional folk/bluegrass and singer-songwriter sets there’s no evidence of being in a band, breaking away from that band and heading off solo, which is rare and kind of refreshing, since the baggage that can leave behind is supplanted with a nervous excitement of what’s possible. Grace’s backing band, a tough, mostly electric trio kitted out with the occasional cello, is up to the task at hand, to color-match this first impression with a sturdy confidence, and that they do, working up Americana left turns and a sparking jaunt, built to open shows and catch heads unassuming. It’s the turns that really work this set, like the title track and how it dives out of any direct roots influence and plays like the fumes of racing the roads straight out of wherever this is.”

How I’m feeling now: maybe a little more bullish on this one. That newest Florry record comes close but goes off the rails one too many times to honor the traditions this one flaunts so well. I think they’d be great together.

PROLAPSE I Wonder When They’re Going to Destroy Your Face LP (Tapete)

What I wrote (#0125, September 9, 2025): “... anyone saying this is better than it has any right to be neglects history itself – Prolapse was never wrong in the first place, but rather the piss-ant world they grew in at full fault. If you want to measure success in the basest terms, make something that finds the people who cared in the first place, show them they didn’t waste their time, and they’ll come back to you, waiting to refill their mills and shakers with all the salt you can throw at them.”

How I’m feeling now: fully confident that this is even better than Prolapse’s original, unstoppable-only-by-themselves run (Q: what’s worse, having your discography stretched across five totally different labels, or having the lion’s share of them released in the States by Jetset? A: don’t answer, not worth it). They made damn sure we’d find them only by looking, and almost 30 years later they bulldoze back with a ferocity unmatched in their extant classmates.

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New reviews start back up on Tuesday, and they will be paywalled, so get in now.