There’s something comforting in the smallness of April Magazine’s songs. Where so many facets of music are reaching a maximalist plateau these days, the band’s ability to craft songs that feel like a secret totem is, to say the least, endearing. The afternoon sunlight soaked cut “Parade” is a prime example of this. With a wall of tape hiss competing with the music for attention, the band sway, strum, and croon out from under the knitted confines of their own woolen hideaway of sound. Strip away the soft fizz of the tape and the song itself has a lullaby lilt that taps into Sarah recs if they were filtered through Vernon Yard-era Low and Galaxie 500. The band just need to hook up a Kramer produced follow-up to make the submersion complete. The song is paired with a rain-streaked video that comes on like the last pictures taken to use up a roll of vacation film, letting the listener permanently live inside the over-exposed frames that document the oncoming end. “Parade” appeared on the band’s early digital releases on Bandcamp and will get a physical issue this year from Tough Love on a comp called If The Ceiling Were A Kite: Vol. 1 on October 8th.
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