Sweet Wreath featured in About Town: read here!


Double Vanities
How Come Your Sister Doesn’t Know My Name Anymore
Out Now on Tape / Digital 
Order here

Double Vanities is the project of Atlanta based poet and musician Matthew Goethe

who sings and improvises on the ukelin, an early 20th century psaltery instrument. Using it as a sounding board for metaphysical free verse, Goethe's incantatory songs unfold in a rustic cascade of melody and dissonance, like a hand drawn map to a dilapidated barn you didn’t know you inherited. Featuring performances at several DIY venues that are either now gone or no longer hosting shows, this album serves as a poignant document of an evolving songwriting process within the ever shifting landscape of the Southern experimental underground.

As Goethe reflects, "I think the isolation of living in a small, strange town—Montevallo, Alabama—played a big role in how this music turned out. You’re imagination has a lot of space to wander in the slowness of a place like that and it can be easier to allow your mind to drift into that poetic state of unfocused focus where the best bits of imagery and language usually lie in wait for you."

"How Come…, is an album that rescues both the tradition of ancient folk music and an experimental heritage with which it manages to tie in this material. An album that seeks to be a transdimensional experience, beyond just a simple album....it creates spaces between pieces that are formed in complex memories of other times and other lives."

-Sebastián Franco, Review of the album in Densidad 20.25

Silica Gel
May Day
Out Now on Vinyl / Digital 
Order here!

Coming out of the underground DIY scene of Birmingham, Alabama,

Silica Gel's sound is a unique synthesis of early medieval music with custom electronics
and avant-folk elements. The core of their debut album adapts a series of songs from the
12th - 14th centuries, including the satirical text Roman de Fauvel, which tells the story of
a vain horse who rises to prominence in the French royal court. Silica Gel transforms this
music into a fitting political allegory for our time through distortion & repetition of language,
layering time upon itself in a conceptual historical loop. The music evokes the sound of
peasants being churned through the wheels of industry..disembodied voices return to us
from the other side of a several hundred year technological process.

This record is a caterwauling from a long-displaced subconscious - an elegant and haunting
construction that creaks with all the psychic weight we’re feeling ourselves to be bearing.
Silica Gel has offered us a medieval meal upon a greasy newspaper spoon, a pre-packaged
euphemistic eucharist for this modern festival from before the future.        

        -The Earth Hotel Podcast : Dec 3, 2020 episode features an interview with Silica Gel

Taking the record as a whole, the sounds stretching back to Early Music and into the future
of mixed electronic and acoustic music, the commentary, art, and other visuals, I couldn't
ask for a more perfect experience than Silica Gel's May Day. The most recent contemporary
record I similarly related to is Julia Holter's Aviary. When I first heard May Day, I thought
of Holter writing a folk horror score, which I hope they take as a compliment.       

        -Stephen McClurg, writer & musician

The source for this piece is “Kalenda Maia,” a 12th century Occitan troubadour song
by Raimbaut de Vaqueiras.  "Kalenda Maia" roughly translates to "First of May" or
"May Day" in English.  Silica Gel channels the full ecstasy of spring by wrangling the
song into a digital psycho crush banger with warped visuals to match in this video teaser.

Subscribe to our Newsletter:

musical ephemera, musings and updates for your reading pleasure