issue no. 7, march 2018
pushing boundaries: women in experimental music
One genre that has always been extremely well represented by envelope-pushing, supremely talented women artists is experimental music. Give a look and listen to some of our faves.
Moscow’s Yana Kedrina was born at the tail end of the fall of the Soviet Union in 1990, lending to her stark, dystopian brand of lo-fi techno-tinged electronica.
Swedish musician Karin Elisabeth Dreijer’s cartoonish camp nightmare continues with her first release in 8 years.
The Los Angeles-based producer uses field recordings and organic sounds to create unique genre-bending soundscapes.
Genre elitists become easily annoyed with Amalie Bruun’s take on death metal, traditional Danish folk music, choral arrangements, or anything else for that matter.
Can a girl growing up in suburban Los Angeles become a singer who writes straight-up weird R&B tracks? Yep.
Midwestern millennial goes goth in an homage to all things past with a darkly beautiful look into the future.
LA-based Callie Ryan digs deep into dollar bin vinyl crates to extract clicks, cracks, snaps, and samples to produce her analog electronic tracks.
Laurel Halo uses samples of her own voice to blend, twist, and manipulate—unlike the current vocal trend of simply using a Vocoder or a pitch shifter—which ultimately makes her sound much more authentic.
With eight studio recordings and a rather lengthy list of collaborations and tours with some pretty heavy hitters, Brooklynite Sara Lipstate should be much better known to the masses. Her solo guitar work is equally haunting and magnificent in its simplicity.
The Gary, Indiana native’s grooves are a twisting blend of the organic and original. And the choreography on this….c’mon.
Arguably the closest current artist to crossover from experimental into mainstream, Wolfe’s videos hit in the millions with her sexy, soft, neo-metal sound.
Argentinian, Parisian, comedian, actress, daughter of famous parents, musician. Her music makes you wonder just how far an artist can push weirdness not simply for the sake of weirdness.
Valet is Honey Owens, and the Portlander really puts it best herself: "to be a medium channeling sounds from an unknown place, opening up and spilling out onto the computer-tape."