April Magazine - If The Ceiling Were A Kite: Vol. 1

A little digging around in the back corners of our 'warehouse' (AKA our cardboard city flat that's in desparate need of an additional wing) has uncovered a stray box of the first April Magazine collection, released back in 2021. Not exactly when the magic first happened, but the first time it a lot of it was put together in the same place... It's impossible to think about what's going on in SF right now without immediately being drawn to April Magazine, a comparatively loosely assembled four piece who seem to simultaneously operate at both the heart and the margins of the current Bay Area underground: on the one hand they share members with many other bands, their guitarist/singer runs a gallery that functions as some kind of focal point/social space, and Cindy even have a song named after them, yet their music is resolutely lo-fi, couched in a mysterious fog, the live footage available online seems to suggest that they sound slightly different each time they play, there is no social media presence , and there are reports they have dozens of songs (possibly albums?) that have not and may never be released, hidden inside their own private universe. This LP compilation of sorts is an attempt to pull AM a little closer into the light but also make them feel as endearingly enigmatic as ever. The group channel the greats - Spacemen 3, The Pastels, early B&S, Mary Chain, Rainy Day/Opal/Mazzy et al - but submerge their obvious melodic capabilities within seemingly infinite spray can hiss, as if the songs are being pulled backwards through some vortex to the past. Half of these tracks are instrumentals, and it's in those moments AM are perhaps at their most expressive, suggesting a very inviting melancholy that you can't quite figure out. The appeal is that the more you hear from them, the less you really know.