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westernvinyl.com

There is a moment on Sides, the new album from Richmond, Virginia-based duo Lean Year, in which a hospital room floor is filled with white chrysanthemums. This imagery, based on an opiate-induced...

atorecords.com

A reissue of Drive By Truckers' first live album, remastered by Greg Calbi (John Lennon, David Bowie, Paul Simon).

blueorangerecords.com

blue orange records is an independent record label from san francisco bringing you the music of potion, the meek, and other electro-indie pop bands of quality

underdogma.com

underdogma is a record label and cultural rehab program started by grant williams and carlton duff in 1999.

ambiguouscity.com

Baltimore indie rock record label. Please visit us.

hushrecords.com

CD & LP out of stock. Sorry! Also available on Bandcamp in your favorite file flavor. Feelings by Run On Sentence Feelings feels. It really feels. It makes you feel and it feels as though it has feelings of its own. It feels like it was written in the Great Plains by a drunken hobo riding a white buffalo. It feels like it was recorded in a studio in the back room of a diner while large semi trucks idled outside, the lead singer jumping in to the studio in his trucker hat to record a song, never taking his sunglasses off though it was four in the morning. There is a safety in the danger out on on the plains. It's hard to drive stakes into the hard ground, to claim your territory, and the whipping wind blows your tarp away. But it's also hard to get out, because the last bus West just left, always.   Dustin's voice is strong. It takes a lot of energy to sing his songs. If you sit around with a guitar in your kitchen and try to sing "Albion" while waiting for a pot of water to boil, you will be hoarse and sweating by the time your fettuccine is al dente.   Dustin's lyrics are really about something. It's rare anymore to hear a song that also functions as a credo, a statement of what the singer believes as opposed to what words merely fit the syllables and the rhyme scheme. These songs are petroglyphs, carved out after Dustin spent a lot of time on windswept bluffs just listening and watching. He shape-shifts like the old shamans, not physically changing his form, but wrapping his mind around the true empathy of understanding what it's like to be something else. The songs are always pure statements, things he has seen on quiet nights alone, when the trees start to glow with the energy of life. They are songs that he can get up and sing honestly every night, squeezing out every note with every drop of breath left in his diaphragm, because the songs are true. They are like a tent revival, where the energy they whip up starts to