identical minions. It’s like a depressed Darth Vader singing an emo song to an au- dience of concerned stormtroopers — awe- some, infectious, and hilarious. ANTHONY WALLACE Big Phoenix Bands Playing Small Venues The Maine and Jimmy Eat World played two small Phoenix venues: The Rebel Lounge and Crescent Ballroom, respec- tively. Seeing national artists where it all began for them spurred a feeling of home- town pride and felt like a reunion for the fans who were there from the beginning. Both sold-out shows also gave audiences a sneak peek into their upcoming projects: The Maine’s Sad Summer Festival setlist, and Jimmy Eat World’s Surviving. It was so easy to feel like an imposter surrounded by longtime fans who sang every word and got the inside jokes from early albums. But if you’re still looking for a New Year’s resolu- tion, just go see a local band no matter how big they’ve gotten. They’ll be more than happy to welcome you home. TAYLOR GILLIAM Low at Valley Bar Slowcore legends Low performed in front of glowing towers of cherry-red light that looked like they were wrenched out of the walls from inside TRON’s computer world. On tour to support their album Double Neg- ative, the band sounded both ancient and futuristic. You could hear the infinite in the way they transformed their sound into something that sounded entirely of vinyl pops and crackling hisses that looped and whirled outward like black holes trying to suck everything into them. You could hear the past in the interplay between Alan Spar- hawk and Mimi Parker on songs like “What Part of Me” and “Always Trying to Work It Out.” Their voices would soar toward me- lodic heaven while touching on the deep sadness in blues and folk music. Watching them play was witnessing the birth of some- thing new. ASHLEY NAFTULE Danielle Durack “Start” Over a slightly off-kilter bedroom pop- synth arpeggio, Danielle Durack repeat- edly asks, “How do I start from the bottom?” “Start” is the first song on Bash- ful. She has always written music, but it wasn’t until she graduated from ASU last year that she decided to work on her dream of becoming a musician. When she started writing “Start,” she says she saw an image of a massive mountain with its peak ob- scured, and no clear idea of how to get to Daniel Spiegelman Photography Local hip-hop artist Teek Hall. the top. “Sunshine,” Bashful’s other standout track, appeared on millions of phones when it landed on Spotify’s New Music Friday playlist. Durack capitalized on the momentum by playing dozens of local and regional shows in 2019. She just returned from Seattle, where she recorded a fol- lowup album, which is set for release next year. As she continues to work toward the top, “Start” is an endearing document of her humble origins. AW Holy Fawn Death Spells Stare at the album art for Death Spells and you’ll get a sense of what’s in store for you. A forest, beautiful yet foreboding, looms over a black pool of water with white flakes of what could be snow or shimmers of light. It almost looks like the night sky, with the stars snared in its inky black depths like a tar pit. Such is the nature of the music that local post-rock/metal heroes Holy Fawn play: a beautifully dark, heavy pool of sound you can fall into. Released toward the end of 2018 (in time to land itself on year-end best lists at publications like Stereogum), Holy Fawn re-released the album on Holy Roar Re- cords this year. It’s been on constant rota- tion ever since. Holy Fawn have embraced the pastoral qualities of bands like Wolves in the Throne Room, Agalloch, and Deaf- heaven, and infused them with heavy dol- lops of shoegaze and psychedelia. It’s often a placid record, lulling you into an uneasy comfort before it disrupts it with a heavy blast of aggressive sound. Listen to it a few times, and you’ll know what the dinosaurs in the LaBrea Tar Pits felt like. No matter how hard you try to pull away, Death Spells just pulls you deeper inside its world. AN Shelly Mosman The members of Low. Teek Hall Black Phillip Local hip-hop fans received a treat over Halloween. Teek Hall, the rapper, podcast host, and new father, dropped Black Phillip on Phoenix. Inspired by the film The Witch, Hall spits out rhymes about the real-life horrors that are on the news over the haunting beats produced by Sumo Cor- leone. The Detroit native sounds reinvigo- rated on these tracks. Should Phoenix New Times take some credit for this inspired EP, as the artist has won the title of Best Rap- per in our Best of Phoenix issue two years in a row? We’d like to, but let’s face it, he knew what he was doing before we did. JK 17 phoenixnewtimes.com | CONTENTS | FEEDBACK | OPINION | NEWS | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | FILM | CAFE | MUSIC | PHOENIX NEW TIMES DEC. 26TH, 2019–JAN. 1ST, 2020
