Bad Suns are embracing everything that’s possible on their joyous fifth album, Accelerator. Together since 2012, Christo Bowman (vocals/guitar), Gavin Bennett (bass) and Miles Morris (drums) started playing as teenagers and went viral almost immediately with their magnetic blend of indie-rock and ‘80s synth sheen. After four hit albums, the trio reached a point where they needed to recalibrate and recenter if they wanted to continue. Recording their exuberant 2023 EP Infinite Joy was a cleansing experience that set them on a thrilling path forward into making Accelerator, which comprises 12 new tracks brimming with dance-pop hooks and poignant lessons learned. In planning their latest project, the band reconnected with their go-to producer Eric Palmquist (Tate McRae, Half Alive), who also helmed their 2014 debut Language & Perspective, plus follow-ups Disappear Here (2016) and Apocalypse Whenever (2022). Going into recording Accelerator, Eric encouraged Bad Suns to channel their sense of renewal into an energetic sonic direction they’d tapped into before, but never quite to this extent. “One of the first times we sat down with Eric, we were talking about what we'd all been vibing with. He said point blank, ‘It would be really cool to mess around with some ‘90s house-inspired music. Right away, the light bulb went off for me. I'd wanted to push in that direction forever.” The hook-packed gem “Slow Karma” acts as Christo’s mission statement for Accelerator. An intimate and cathartic track, the album opener finds Christo at a personal and professional crossroads as he confronts old habits and makes the decision to become sober. As Bad Suns move into their new era, one filled with exciting personal and professional milestones, they’ve never been more harmoniously aligned. “While making this album, I turned 30, I got married, I found out I was having a kid. Going to the studio every day and being in the room with the guys, I had this sense that I'm going to look back and know that was probably one of the best times of my life.”
In making their third record, Hex Key, Mamalarky spent entire seasons hunched over guitars and obscure synthesizers, their long hair sweeping over strings or covering concentrated eyes. The band recorded takes in between the sounds of passing ice cream trucks and yowling stray cats in their LA home studio, a tight but prolific living room. Hex Key is a document of perseverance, of going for the gold while somehow remaining totally aware of one’s own vulnerabilities. These effervescent, swirling songs chronicle vivid desires crashing against real-life limitations but finding a way to keep burning anyway. That tension between anguish and resilience, between performed aloofness and brutal honesty, drives the music, imbues it with a compelling intensity. Over the last 8 years, the quartet’s members have lived in Austin, Atlanta, and Los Angeles, and have established a bond that they acknowledge is rare. “We have an unmatched level of trust in each other,” drummer Dylan Hill says. “There is no air of professionalism. It's literally just four friends hanging out and getting to the bottom of something.” Given their closeness, Mamalarky are able to fight like family, not necessarily with each other, but for the music, to make it the best it can be. Whereas their last album, Pocket Fantasy, was exploratory and free-flowing, the songs on Hex Key are the result of absolute devotion and fine tuning. It’s the kind of attention to detail that can only happen when the four bandmates are working alone together, uninterrupted by producers, engineers, or any outside influences. “It’s never ‘kick your feet up, let’s see what happens,” guitarist and singer Livvy Bennett says. “We’re always staring each other deeply in the eyes saying ‘Let’s make this next take incredible.’ We never settle.” The band is so committed to their craft that Hill even recorded the drums for “#1 Best of All Time” amidst an intense bout of poison ivy. The determination he felt in the moment manifested itself in the song’s frantic-but-focused percussion, he says.