Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.
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Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.
Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.
Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.
Estimated Release Date: 14 March 2025
Please note that shipping dates for pre-orders are estimated and are subject to change
Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.
Estimated Release Date: 14 March 2025
Please note that shipping dates for pre-orders are estimated and are subject to change
Throwing Muses' 11th studio album, 'Midnight Concessions' is bleaker, more stripped-down and acoustic than its predecessors, an esoteric set that bridges the gap between the band's early run and Kristin Hersh's folk-spun solo material.
Since they reformed in 2002 as a trio, Throwing Muses haven't pushed too hard - 'Moonlight Concessions' is just the fourth album they've recorded since then, and like 2020's straightforwardly enjoyable 'Sun Racket', it's billed as a "back to basics" album. What they mean, most probably, is that it's not as challenging as 2013's 31-track oddity 'Purgatory/Paradise', which came bundled with a book of essays from Hersh and art courtesy of drummer Dave Narcizo. But 'Moonlight Concessions' is a very different record from its predecessor; where 'Sun Racket' sounded as if it was tapping into the Muses' punkish early energy, 'Moonlight Concessions' accepts a more mature approach, avoiding the expected barrage of crunchy riffs and widescreen production. Rhythmic acoustic guitar strums take pride of place here, and Narcizo's drums - usually dense and propulsive - are often reduced to a gentle rattle.
Opener 'Summer of Love' comes off almost like a demo in the best possible way, with Hersh's vulnerable, unmistakable tones cutting like a hot knife through the skeletal instrumentation. It gives us more of a chance to hear other elements seeping through the cracks - wobbly vibrato guitar textures, woozy fiddles and psychedelic reversed tones. 'Moonlight Concessions' is an album that sounds most at ease in the darkness: 'Theremini', a beatless track that's lifted by Bernard Georges' rhythmic bass plucks and muggy string drones, is one of the clear standouts, and Hersh's words hang comfortably in the aether, linking back to the early 4AD era (if not exactly their own recordings). There's even a trace of Cocteau Twins on 'Sally's Beauty' with its chorus-drenched arpeggios, but Hersh muddles lineage with gestures to country and classic American folk, a firm nod to everyone who's been following her solo run since 'Hips and Makers'.