What began in 2013 as a casual weekly jam on the shore of Lake Shoecraft (Stanwood, WA) has since blossomed into a seasoned ambient folk/rock outfit with promise and potential on their side. Shoecraft has patiently carved out a unique sonic identity and is fueled by a passion to contribute to the rich lineage of artists hailing from the Pacific Northwest. Their early recordings gently piece together sparse acoustic instrumentation, clearly derivative of their vulnerable beginnings, inspired by the likes of Sufjan Stevens, The Innocence Mission, Andy Hull, and S. Carey. In recent releases, a more rhythmic and electric Shoecraft is revealed, while maintaining their hallmark accessibility and emphasis on storytelling reminiscent of Ben Howard, Dry The River and The Middle East.

In emerging artist sister swimmer’s new EP, “The Horizon Line Swallowed Us Whole”, the boundary between dream and memory fizzles, sputters, dissolves into a hum. In the natural disaster of experience—did you forget your body again? Do we trust the vessel carrying us forward? Is it really love or did you just want to feel safe? A waver in Britt Amborn’s voice waxes poetic in the questioning, with these songs poised as a salve to turn emotional injury into relational fortitude, as a means to move forward from her own obsessions with place, longing, and what stories the body claims for keeps. Partnering with Seattle producer and co-writer Nick Ward, sister swimmer's sonic landscape blends elements of indie rock and dream pop, present-minded romanticism and nostalgia-drenched escapism.

Bringing new life into this world is an experience that is both awe-inspiring and harrowing. On Yesturday & Tamarlow, Seattle’s Rainwater deftly balance on the knife edge between boundless love and bottomless terror that comes with becoming a parent in these precarious times. Inspired by the birth of singer/songwriter Blake Luley’s first daughter, Yesturday & Tamarlow finds him grappling with new fears and anxieties, while also finding space for self-acceptance and awestruck wonder at the simple beauty of it all.From the opening sounds of a fetal heart monitor and the repeated refrain of “Oh my God” on “Cottonwood Snow”, the band’s intimate, dreamy indie sound remains intact, but is now infused with a spiky nervousness. Songs like “Baby’s Alright” and “Shadow” vibrate with the newfound neuroses of a brand-new parent, while others like “Holding Water” and “Goosebump Skin” glow with quiet awe and domestic bliss. Elsewhere on the album, Luley grapples with the inherent strangeness of revisiting your old stomping grounds many years down the line, before finally making peace with his younger self. “I was hoping I could be two selves freely” he sings on “Visiting”, capturing the essential tension of middle age, when one is equally stuck between the past and future. The instrumentation reflects this duality as well, as glimmering keys and sighing pedal steel are offset by noisy, acidic guitars.These songs were arranged with James Kassinger on drums and Jesse Botello on bass, and recorded in Luley’s basement-turned-studio with Samuel Rosson, in elusive snatches of time between teaching at an elementary school and being a dad. The homespun recordings are filled out by friends and family, including Blake’s wife Aviva Stampfer, cousin Amy Godwin, and close friends BJ Choe and Neil Acharya. Becoming a parent is scary, a radical recontextualization of your entire life, but it’s also a beautiful, mysterious encounter with infinite love, and with that in mind, Yesturday & Tamarlow ends on a note of tender grace: “You are all, all I need.”