Black Umbrellas
vol. 1 [CS; Moon Magnet]

“Ariel Pink,” they screamed, “Neon Indian,” they cried, and I didn’t listen or care, the beat bumping big in my headphones, finding a crack in the sheets of tape hiss to wrap around my mind, close my eyes and raise my eyebrows. The umbrella above my brain deflecting the spring rains and beneath it casting shadows of sunshine all over me; a darkness that glows, that beams intently in streaks of thick intimidating black. Then off in the corner the voice appears, and it is frail and I have not a single clue what it’s singing to me, whispering of mellow mellows and mallows. Some dreamer mumbling his dreams to me, maybe, and even if I can’t figure it all out, it’s the hushed mood and the euphoric aura of twinkling melodies that keep my eyes firmly crossed. And the rhythms, too, the back beat pushed out to the ‘and’ instead of landing on the downbeat — little tricks like that to trigger a deep and buoyant response. By no means polished or refined, but nice as hell and an early reminder of (and necessary companion to) the heat of summer that lies just ahead, Derrick Bozich’s debut comes highly commended and recommended from your friends at camp-Strauss.


Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d’art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.

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