Slothrust, Yung

Formed amidst the ashes of Leah Wellbaum's solo project, entitled Slothbox, Slothrust was forged with drummer Will Gorin and bassist Kyle Bann. Thanks to their adept jazz & blues backbone, Slothrust plays deceivingly clever rock with a relentless, punk-as-fuck aesthetic. Though commonly compared to Sonic Youth and Nirvana, Slothrust plays a trickier game than its grunge-revivalist peers. From tender to thrashing and from dark to dorky, Slothrust is a band at constant play with its sonic dynamics and emotional spectrum, yet still manages to weave in ear-worming, cathartic hooks. The band's second full-length release, 'Of Course You Do,' was released in February 2014 on Ba Da Bing as a follow-up to their 2012 self-released album, 'Feels Your Pain.' 

With her deep, charismatic vocals, most reminiscent of Nico with the edge of Isaac Brock circa '97, Wellbaum sings about alienation, awkwardness and absurdity, and damn if she doesn't make it all sound kind of fun. "Crockpot" is a dark, yet funny and irreverent take on the struggle for human connection in a society built to make us feel isolated: "Some men purchase real dolls / to fill the void / But she don't finish dinner and her expression never changes / Don't shake hands with the lonely kids 'cause I hear that shit's contagious". "Juice" is a paean to realizing the limits of self-improvement: "My name is Leah and I drink juice every morning when I wake up but it's no use, I'm unwell". She evokes feeling while sounding despondent, all the while with catchy melodies -- pulling off Stephen Malkmus' Pavement-era feats of writing and delivery. On top of the solid writing and rhythm section, her playing style ranges from simple eloquence to hard-edged, aggressive guitar solos.


There’s a concept in Scandinavian society called the Law of Jante, which says individuals should downplay their achievements, blend in and support the group. The music of Danish band Yung serves as an urgent, screaming retort to that idea, the sound of young iconoclasts fighting against apathy. Led by 21­year­old frontman and songwriter Mikkel Holm Silkjær, the group hails from Aarhus, Denmark’s second city, a huge port, university town and ideal place to find like minds amid the industrial grit. On the forthcoming EP “These Thoughts Are Like Mandatory Chores,” they show themselves to be ambassadors of their country’s increasingly vital underground music scene. Anthemic guitars, coarse feedback and driving rhythm, insistent to the point of impatience, show angst acting as a powerful fuel for self­expression, gasoline poured on a fire already fed by youthful energy.

Boasting more than a decade of experience, Silkjær has played in a constellation of bands and runs a pair of labels, Shordwood and 100 Records. But music runs much deeper for the punk prodigy. At four, his dad Per Silkjær, then part of the band Studson, set up his son behind a drum kit, giving him a taste of music making when he was just tall enough to see over the stool. When he was 12, Per took his son to see garage rock icon Jay Reatard play in the practice room of local punk band Cola Freaks (the same group who would later play at Mikkel’s confirmation). About that time, Mikkel started picking up 7­inch singles from the Danish underground from his uncle’s Copenhagen store, Repo Man Records. Raised to see music as a craft and a calling, not art or artifice, he dove into his own productions as a teenager.

His dad literally stumbled upon his son’s burgeoning talent. During a trip to New York for his son’s 18th birthday, Per was up late, ripping newly purchased CDs on Mikkel’s laptop, when he found a long list of hook­heavy, exuberant tracks by an unrecognized artist named Yung. Fast forward a few

years later in 2013, and Holm would start performing some of these songs live with a circle of friends—Frederik Nybo Veilie (drums), Tobias Guldborg Tarp (bass) and Emil Zethsen (guitar)—bursting forth seemingly fully formed, their chemistry quickly apparent as they built up a reputation for lighting up a stage. Recorded just months after they began playing together, their “Alter” EP wasn’t just a debut, but a document of their live presence.

"My father helped widen my musical viewpoint, and he has given me my taste for the more pop­oriented stuff," Mikkel says. "But he has also taught me to do things DIY. You don’t have to play showcase festivals, even if all Danish bands think that's what it takes.”

More than buzz, Silkjær has built a cottage industry. He writes songs, handles the artwork for everyrelease and even does much of the production himself. The resulting self­made music on “These Thoughts Are Like Mandatory Chores,” raw, snarling corkscrews of feedback, find the Danish rockers branching off from the same family tree that birthed The Replacements and Cloud Nothings. It’s the band’s DIY call to arms, singular and authentic songs that won’t remain unknown very long.