REVIEWS

From current Loyola student Emma Lee Lincoln and recent graduate Evan Michell comes a new-ish indie rock/experimental/shoegaze project, Across Phoenix. The project originally started as a solo effort from Lincoln, but in the past year the two have begun performing and recording material together, culminating in their most recent self-titled EP. Lincoln’s earlier solo work ranges from standard college indie rock/shoegaze fare like on 2024’s singles “Glue” and “Spine/Gunpark” to more gothic folk such as 2025’s EP Trust Will Save Us. With Across Phoenix, Lincoln and Michell meld those styles together, like making use of light electronic effects to stutter some vocals on “Peace of Mind” and throwing a computer-generated voice sample in the beginning of “Are U Happy?” Across Phoenix is decidedly not slowcore, but is reminiscent of it just enough for it to pull at the edges of my mind when listening to this, particularly in its reflective disaffection. Lincoln’s vocals remind me of early work from Warpaint and Marika Hackman, and they’re wonderfully placed against the ‘90s-jangle-pop guitars and general shoegaze sound. “Sunflowers” builds to a droning guitar climax before it closes with a short, aggressive drum machine beat, while closer “Paint the Sun” is a more conventional bedroom pop track. I very much enjoy the rest of Across Phoenix’s catalog, but this release makes a marked move towards combining these disparate influences. —Daniella Cherner

From creative everyman, frontman, and guitarist Leo Rauf (cartoonist, musician, director, and ANTIGRAVITY contributor) comes the first full-length album from new wave/art rock project Big Leather. Rauf is joined by Elizabeth Vargas Bushnell on bass, Ava Gulassa on drums, and Jeff Caulo on keys. The album cover (shot by Phil Thompson) is perfectly emblematic of ‘80s new wave: pink font and color scheme, the band dressed up for a formal outing, outfits straight out of a John Hughes film. Their sound, on the other hand, is not soaked in nostalgia for the era, but is in line with today’s modern new wave (nu wave, if you will). The band takes turns singing on each song, everyone’s different ranges and styles giving variety to each track over the relaxed, surf-esque grooving that keeps the album moving. The songs vary from bouncy guitar riffs reminiscent of the band Her’s (“Young & Pure”) to a vocal melody that somehow reminds me of Faye Webster (“Famous”). “The milk of human kindness” as a phrase originates with Shakespeare—though Caribou put out an album in 2005 by the same name—and lyrically, Big Leather certainly ruminate on such milk (and the lack thereof) while meandering through this soft, pillow-y album. I wouldn’t place this squarely in new wave or art rock, though the influences make themselves apparent, pushing at the bounds of indie pop. —Daniella Cherner

Consider this fair warning: If you are looking for background music to relax to, you will probably want to skip Dre Perish’s latest release, Twist of Fate (not to be confused with the Olivia Newton-John song, which I recommend for entirely different reasons). While he is certainly capable of crafting poppier music, in recent years the New Orleans-based artist and producer has leaned more toward creating music meant to invoke a visceral reaction. Twist of Fate continues this trend. Equal parts psych rock, punk, and industrial, there are certainly songs on the album that you can jam and dance to—Perish knows how to write a good melody—but they are also not going to let you get too comfortable. While no new ground is being broken with this album, the songs are solidly executed and, while the final quarter of the album lags in comparison to the first three-quarters, the cool, post-punk closer “WE LIVE FOREVER” is one of the strongest tracks on Twist of Fate and helps tie it all together. Other standouts include sultry opener “DON’T WANT TO WAKE UP,” the blissed-out psych of “NO OTHER WAY,” and a spiky, industrial interpretation of Gang of Four’s “To Hell With Poverty” that should be listened to back-to-back with the original. —Mary Beth Campbell

Last year, New Orleans rapper La Reezy (real name: Khayree Salahuddin) blessed the local hip-hop masses with the album We All Need Help along with multiple singles. Additionally, he managed to share the stage with rapper Wale and chart-topper LaRussell during that year’s Essence Festival. After building a fan base from the ground up through his vivid storytelling and vulnerability, along with well-received videos on YouTube and a presence on TikTok and Instagram, the wunderkind rapper, with production assistance from PJ Morton, returns for Pardon Me, I’m Different, a seven track, 20-plus minute offering that includes standouts such as the title track featuring Morton on the hook. La Reezy pays homage to his hometown on “Baby,” a track akin to Common’s “I Used to Love H.E.R.” (for the music video that accompanied “Baby” he used a mannequin woman and took it on a date around the city, showing off local landmarks such as the Dew Drop Inn). On the EP’s first track, “Reason,” he introduces himself with the energy of a young and hungry boxer entering the ring to take on an undisputed champion. Currently, La Reezy, who is not one to rest on his laurels, is slated to perform in Dodger Stadium at Tyler, The Creator’s Camp Flow Gnaw Carnival in November, another notch in his belt as he emerges a young lion in the New Orleans underground hip-hop scene. —Ryne Hancock

British post-punk band Maruja have finally released their debut album after years of EPs and singles. They first caught my attention with their 2022 instrumental single “The Tinker,” which prominently featured a crooning saxophone and dramatic drums that seemed to crash all around a central, pulsing beat. It’s a beautiful track that anchored my expectations of the band’s musicality going forward to be that of jazz nerds with an affinity for punk rock, like Cap’n Jazz or Refused. And Maruja did not fail in maintaining that same level of musicianship on Pain to Power, expanding their efforts to be more lyrically focused, often exploring poignant political issues like the genocide in Gaza, class war, and cultural division. Though sometimes verging on being corny, Maruja uses Celtic paganism and spiritualism as a counterpoint to balance the doom and despair. Tracks like “Look Down On Us” verbosely describe these issues in rap-like cadence while more instrumental tracks like “Zaytoun” seek to offer healing at least and a spiritual event at most. Whether you hear empty platitudes or uplifting proverbs will likely depend on your mood and how much despair you’ve soaked up that day, but the sheer grandiosity of their sound is enough of a reason to find Pain to Power moving. —Dalton Spangler

Not to be confused with King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, The Jesus Lizard, or Pig Destroyer, Pig Lizzard is a New Orleans-based psychedelic grunge band that has been releasing music since 2008. Their latest, Buf’lo, released on 4/20 this year, is a 47-minute, six-track album chock full of meandering jams, walls of sound, and crisp guitar tones. They remind me of classic Adult Swim-type bands like Primus or King Missile but more absurd and with less emphasis on humor. Opening track “I Am” starts with a noisy, percussive chant simply screaming, “Who is the buffalo man? / I am the buffalo man” over and over before lifting off to a country rock ballad complete with harmonica on “(The Emanation Of The Quiet) Alby John.” They’re fairly self-deprecating and don’t take themselves too seriously (their website’s home page plainly states “kill me”). However, their music still approaches serious ideas like grief and craving meaningful connection. “Alby John” represents this clash in artistic direction well. The track follows a fantastically dreadful story about a man who shoots and kills the sun which causes his wife to leave him, but then he finds a new partner who makes him realize he was alone long before his wife left. Besides the abrasive opening track, Buf’lo is the kind of record that won’t bring too much attention to itself, for better or worse, but has something to say under those thick layers of ironic detachment. —Dalton Spangler

2025 marks the 30th anniversary of one of the most explosive romantic and creative relationships to ever hit New Orleans. Quintron and Miss Pussycat’s latest EP Chrystal Crunchy covers a wide range of the couple’s always adventurous output. The EP opens with the title track, Miss Pussycat’s off-kilter theme from her latest puppet show, Party Planning for Animals. Dance number “I’ve Got a Guy 4 That” follows with pounding organ and chanting that pays tribute to cash-only hustlers with absurdities such as, “You want to pull a permit in the city of New Orleans to recover your entire roof with graham cracker crusts?” “Rotten Egg” will likely resonate with those uninterested in having children since the couple sings about the theme three decades into their relationship with no regrets. On the brief minute-long instrumental “All Aboard,” Quintron’s keys sing over the pitter-patter of his signature invention the Drum Buddy. Although the EP is named after “Chrystal Crunchy,” “I’ve Got a Guy 4 That” serves as the shining gem of the release. Two additional remixes of the song, courtesy of New Orleanian-turned-New Yorker Rhodes Murphy (remember Babes?) and Nashvillian-turned-New Orleanian Jake Orrall (remember JEFF the Brotherhood?), demonstrate the influence that Quintron and Miss Pussycat have had on subsequent generations. —William Archambeault

In addition to returning to the big screen with the new mockumentary Spinal Tap II, Spinal Tap has returned to tiny disks with their new album The End Continues. One of the key charms of the original 1984 mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap was the band’s ability to convincingly execute some seriously rocking original tunes that were laced with humor and a great deal of innuendo. While cheeky numbers like “Big Bottom” could’ve skated by on lyrical content alone, Tap’s cohesion as a real-deal rock band is what has kept those songs in fans’ ears for decades. This Is Spinal Tap‘s soundtrack was remarkably successful as a compilation, showcasing a band that had allegedly lived a few different lives across multiple decades. Similarly, The End Continues feels like it’s supposed to be a legacy rock band’s comeback album and, true to that goal, captures the rocky nature of an established group trying to get back on track again. Like most reunion albums, the originals on The End Continues largely fall a few numbers shy of the “Up to 11” umph that made their early songs so timeless and even their 1992 album Break Like The Wind a mean listen. Still, the music is decidedly Spinal Tap, albeit a bit older. There’s some solid comedy to be mined from their acknowledgement of this aging up on tracks like the Derek Smalls’ (Harry Shearer)-centric cuts “Rockin’ In The Urn” and “The Devil’s Just Not Getting Old.” Like many of the legacy rock bands they’re currently parodying, modern Spinal Tap is at their most powerful when rehashing time-honored classics, which just so happen to feature some very special guests. Elton John takes the spotlight on luscious yet mighty versions of the hippie peace anthem “(Listen to the) Flower People” and the mythical heavy metal epic “Stonehenge.” The album’s biggest achievement is undoubtedly getting Sir Paul McCartney to join Spinal Tap in a version of their blatant Beatles rip-off “Cups and Cakes,” with him quipping, “I’ve heard this somewhere before,” mid-song. Even Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood‘s duet on ass-loving anthem “Big Bottom” has its own charm despite feeling a bit corny. All in all, not every moment of The End Continues is as heavy duty as past endeavors, but the album is very far from being a shit sandwich. —William Archambeault

I didn’t know what to expect of this duo’s debut album—I didn’t know about Anna Laura Quinn, energetic frontwoman of The Unmentionables, or Ed Barrett’s long resume playing jazz guitar with his trio—and honestly, I wasn’t prepared for it. It’s a cover album, about as minimal as it gets: just Quinn’s voice and Barrett’s guitar. This deeply sophisticated, lovingly curated musical mixtape spans eras and genres, featuring impressive vocal control, clean, expressive guitar, and expert musical production by Brian Seeger. When an album’s this good, it’s hard to write about: Do I discuss the soaring vocals and pared-back accompaniment of opening track “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” a powerful update to the Tears for Fears banger we all know and love? It’s an interpretation only they could pull off. Or the switch-up of track two (Patsy Cline’s “Walking After Midnight”), when Barrett’s guitar becomes lead storyteller and Quinn’s gentle vocals invite listeners in? The melancholic turn “A Flower Is A Lovesome Thing” brings, or the emotional intricacy of their take on Joni Mitchell‘s “Blue Motel Room”? The heartfelt yearning is palpable in both performances, but none of that conveys The Thing about this duo’s chemistry. Truth is, I don’t know how the UNO Jazz Studies graduates work their magic, find each song’s particular emotional groove, and recreate the familiar anew. You’ll have to experience Just… Quinn & Barrett and discover it for yourself. —Terra Durio

Acclaimed horror novelist Joe Hill is Stephen King‘s son, but the titular King is a dragon, summoned by a group of young friends to protect the mother of one of their number from abuse while jailed after a disarmament protest gone awry. The dragon, it turns out, isn’t as easy to dismiss as summon, demanding the group give it a target to kill each year or face death themselves. The novel is full of allusions to Arthurian legend, The Lord of the Rings, and other dragon-related fiction, but it’s also quickly made clear that it’s set in the same universe as The Dead Zone, the unusually political King novel (with David Cronenberg film adaptation) involving a psychic and a now-unsettlingly familiar demagogue. The dragon summoners grow into a nightmarish, traumatized Big Chill set, including a surveillance-obsessed tech billionaire, a right-wing podcaster, and a reclusive scholar, dispatching the fire-breathing beast on annual forays against criminals and terrorists, with ever-growing casualties among innocent bystanders. Yes, it’s an allegory for U.S. military strikes, but it’s also a gripping horror story—Hill’s strongest and strangest in years— about what happens when you inadvertently unleash a monster. —Steven Melendez

There’s a lot going on in this impressive novel by New Orleans-based writer Delaney Nolan. It’s set in a very near future of climate catastrophes, interstate travel lockdowns, and mass extinctions. But the carceral system lives on, and narrator Beatrice works at a rural Texas center for troubled teen girls, funded by testing experimental psych drugs on its residents. Nolan weaves together apocalyptic worldbuilding, flashbacks to Beatrice’s own adolescence, and backwater jailhouse monotony reminiscent of Ottessa Moshfegh‘s Eileen before shifting into another classic genre: the road novel. Amid a massive blackout, the feds and electric company Powergy point fingers at each other while residents bake in brutal heat, and Beatrice leads her colleagues and charges on a hellish evacuation drive through the Gulf region. Nolan has an MFA from the famed Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and it shows in the sheer (and largely realized!) ambition of this novel as well as in her lyrical writing. At first the style seems at odds with her narrator’s background—years of calamities and migration, with little time for reflection. But it also offers a sign of optimism that Beatrice’s flight will someday pause long enough to take a deep breath and tell her tale. —Steven Melendez

In Red Hood #1, the audience picks up with Red Hood at a launching point for new readers of the character. Batman’s second former Robin, a.k.a. Jason Todd, was killed by the Joker as a child before being resurrected. New Orleans is where the lethal, gun-toting Red Hood goes after his first reunion with Batman turned tragic. New Orleans’ setting envelops the comic the entire read, featuring Canal Street, a French Quarter apartment for Red Hood, and Bourbon Street. New Orleans is also present through architecture, climate, and the design of a new costumed vigilante with a Mardi Gras-inspired masquerade theme, and the city serves as a haven where Red Hood seeks healing and moral growth. Batman absolutely refuses to kill or use guns, and Red Hood struggles with refusing both those choices, but he especially is hurt by Batman letting the Joker live. The comic presents the story like a character study for Red Hood readers new and old, and Jeff Spokes’ gothic artwork is visually stunning. The writing portrays Red Hood’s struggle between loving Batman deeply but disagreeing with him morally, and the comic includes one of the most memorable fight scenes in all of Red Hood’s comic book history. But this is all overshadowed by the fact that this comic book series was canceled due to writer Gretchen Felker-Martin’s social media posts about podcaster Charlie Kirk’s death. DC Comics fired Felker-Martin for her social media posts and asked for retailers to take the books off the shelves, refunding them for all orders. It is ironic that Red Hood has previously defended killing a Nazi to Batman in their reunion story, similar to Felker-Martin’s Nazi comment. Felker-Martin’s responses to the incident point out DC Comics’ decisions to keep other writers that have engaged in controversial actions like sexual predation and Islamophobia. DC Comics’ decision to address real world politics and rights to free speech this way has gone viral and set a dangerous precedent in the reading world, akin to book burnings or banned books. Red Hood, Spokes, and Felker-Martin deserved better, but at least the creative team went out with (Red Hood’s) guns blazing. —Jamal Melancon-Hill

The purported last entry in the Conjuring canon (nine films and counting) attempts to send Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) into the sunset. Using a mix of haunting callbacks, mystery, and familiar faces (including Metairie’s own Madison Wolfe, star of The Conjuring 2), the beloved demonologists reveal why this is their last case. Washed up, giving poorly attended lectures to students who mock them with the Ghostbusters theme, Ed and Lorraine get brought back for one more job due to an existential risk to their daughter, who has developed visions of her own. Ed’s poor health adds another layer of risk, as the jumpscares intended to get the audience might startle his weak heart to death. The best parts of this series have always been these jumpscares and the cinematography, and director Michael Chaves delivers again. With clever camera work, elaborate oners (single camera scenes with no cuts) featuring eight characters, and masterful timing, Chaves enhances the solid performances of Farmiga and Wilson by allowing their calming presence to soothe the audience while they handle a supernatural situation. Fans of the series get what they want and relish seeing these characters face their final boss, while potentially watching the franchise take a new direction. Non-fans can appreciate a well-made period piece horror movie that will certainly not be the last of its kind. —Carlos Molina

We all have movie posters that scared us as children. Dead Alive (1992) was that film for me, and yet it’s more of a fun comedy horror than the disturbing cover image lets on. Lionel Cosgrove (Timothy Balme) has a very strange relationship with his mother. One day he meets a superstitious woman named Paquita (Diana Peñalver) who believes she and Lionel are cosmically meant to be. But Lionel’s mother thinks otherwise and stalks her son while he’s on a date to the zoo, where she’s then bit by a rat monkey and all hell ensues! From enmeshment with psychotic mothers to the most insane special FX of the early ‘90s, Peter Jackson‘s New Zealand-based horrific splatter zombie phenomenon is not for the faint of heart, but is wildly entertaining. (Gap Tooth Cinema will present Dead Alive at the Broad Theater on October 29.) —Sara Nicole Storm

While many remember DEVO as the group responsible for the enduring dance hit “Whip It,” director Chris Smith shows that they were far more than a party band dressed in silly costumes. This documentary dives deep into DEVO’s history with a major focus on their attempt at forging a philosophical artistic movement based around the concept of “de-evolution,” which asserted that mankind is devolving instead of evolving. Members’ time at Kent State University heavily influenced this worldview. Some of their friends were among the students killed during the infamous Kent State shootings when Ohio National Guardsmen entered the university to crush Vietnam War protests in 1970. Audiences didn’t always relate to or understand DEVO’s anti-conformist approach. They were met with shouts of “Fuck you!” during early appearances in Ohio and even had to deal with a fist fight against the Dead Boys during their first performance in New York City. As DEVO exploded, in part because of the rise of MTV, they continued to face blowback from audiences that only appreciated select aspects of the group’s deep works. This documentary offers food for thought that is sure to captivate both DEVO devotees and those relatively uninformed as well. —William Archambeault

Ruth Patchett (Roseanne Barr) is a good woman, a housewife, a mother, and she’s fed up when she discovers her husband Bob (Ed Begley Jr.) has fallen for the famous and beautiful writer Mary Fisher (Meryl Streep). Determined to have her revenge, Ruth takes on dismantling her husband’s new relationship, his career, and his freedom. She-Devil stars Barr and Streep at the top of their game in 1989. Its comedic genius lies in its feminine storytelling of two women who can no longer deal with men taking over the narrative of their lives and how they find their way to the top. From beauty standards, to cheating spouses, rearing children, and domesticity She-Devil is a punch in the gut with laughter and applause. (Gap Tooth Cinema will present She-Devil at the Broad Theater on October 22.) —Sara Nicole Storm

After over four decades, the fictional heavy metal icons of Spinal Tap are back on the big screen and ready to rock! The 1984 mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap went down in history for its fiery musical performances and hilarious behind-the-scenes view into the life of a touring band, the accuracy bringing some real rockstars to tears. Spinal Tap II revisits the members of Spinal Tap as wrinkly geezers who haven’t played together in years. A contract technicality has forced them back on stage one last time to cash in on their legacy before any of the more indispensable members have a chance to expire and tank the cash cow. Much of Spinal Tap II charts the expected course for a sequel released decades after an iconic original film. Beloved main characters are thrust back into action due to an unexpected force beyond their control (Spinal Tap’s contract demands one last show!). Fan favorite side characters make brief cameos (Artie Fufkin!). Celebrities pine for the opportunity to touch even a faint glimpse of glory from a beloved film (Questlove!).

What separates Spinal Tap II from most contemporary sequels is that it actually feels like there’s a reason for this film to exist beyond the IP-crazed corporate greed that typically drives such endeavors. If This Is Spinal Tap was a mirror held against the industry surrounding crude cock rock aimed at young men during the ‘80s, The End Continues is a mirror held against the nostalgia industry that circles around aging legacy rockers like vultures in the hot sun. The main trio, while still wonderfully idiotic, are not trying to be carbon copies of the men they were all those decades ago. Spinal Tap II recognizes that our favorite rockstars age and change just like the rest of us.

Perhaps the most exciting and unexpected character in Spinal Tap II is the city of New Orleans itself. While I knew the movie was partially filmed at the UNO Lakefront Arena, I expected the arena to merely be cosplaying as some other more grandiose space. After all, why would the legendary Spinal Tap choose to host their reunion concert in New Orleans? The answer is a simple yet decidedly New Orleans one: There was a vacant slot in the arena’s schedule as the result of a canceled Stormy Daniels event. Outside the arena, members stumble into plenty of New Orleans flavor, ranging from an obnoxious ghost tour invading their homebase to Little Freddie King busking in a French Quarter alley during a pivotal, emotional moment. Quintron even auditions to fill the band’s notoriously fatal drum seat. Throughout Spinal Tap II, jokes are plentiful, even if sometimes lacking the full gusto of the original film. The musical performances also hold up with Elton John really selling his love of Spinal Tap’s discography during their collaborative dive into the back catalogue. I think very few will claim that this sequel does the impossible task of dethroning the iconic original, but I found more than enough gutbusting comedy and mighty musical moments to justify the film’s existence. If you want to know if Spinal Tap II will appeal to the general public, ask someone else. But as a weirdo rocker in New Orleans, I think it’s worth the cost of admission just to see Paul McCartney next to an Eyehategod poster. —William Archambeault