Liam Creamer is as fueled by the recording process as he is by the writing. His debut 6-song EP, under the moniker Ken Park, captures fleeting moments rather than a singular narrative. The record spans a vast sonic range, moving from the fuzzy shoegaze of “Maybe Delete” to the haunting, acoustic-driven “Sleep Paralysis,” which sits at the intersection of Simon & Garfunkel and Elliott Smith.
Liam Creamer is as fueled by the recording process as he is by the writing. His debut 6-song EP, under the moniker Ken Park, captures fleeting moments rather than a singular narrative. The record spans a vast sonic range, moving from the fuzzy shoegaze of “Maybe Delete” to the haunting, acoustic-driven “Sleep Paralysis,” which sits at the intersection of Simon & Garfunkel and Elliott Smith.
Over their eighteen years as a band, Jim Putnam’s Los Angeles based collective Radar Brothers proved to be a model of consistency and melancholic, sun-baked comfort. Defying conventional, perpetual myths that artists must consciously reinvent themselves, a deep dive retrospective at the band’s working class trajectory reveals a singular path on the perennial edge of a larger, opportunistic breakthrough.
Over their eighteen years as a band, Jim Putnam’s Los Angeles based collective Radar Brothers proved to be a model of consistency and melancholic, sun-baked comfort. Defying conventional, perpetual myths that artists must consciously reinvent themselves, a deep dive retrospective at the band’s working class trajectory reveals a singular path on the perennial edge of a larger, opportunistic breakthrough.
