#FeatureFriday Postcards from Cuervo by Max the Band

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12 songs written and recorded in New Mexico over the month of August.

I don’t think you can have a recording more simple and raw than this. It’s literally nothing but the artist with a guitar (sometimes with a drum machine), playing the songs in a room. As with everything in life, a recording like this has it’s place and time, and apparently it was the place and time for Max Cohen’s “Postcards from Cuervo”.

The songs cover a wide range of themes; some are irreverently funny, others deeply personal and introspective. I feel like the artist is giving us a glimpse into their personality; playing music that no one else could have. About half of the tracks are not that different than what you’d expect to hear on alternative radio, but the other half is much wilder, louder and more free. And both complement each other wonderfully, always keeping the listener guessing where things will go. For me, it’s this unpredictability that makes the charm of this album as engaging as it is. It simply feels raw, real and immediate.

Overall I really enjoyed this album. There is something so disarmingly direct to it, it would have felt wrong not to pay attention to it. That is also what makes this piece difficult to recommend; putting it on as background noise seems almost disrespectful, so it requires the audience to invest time. But if they do, there is a connection with an artist waiting for them. And I for one am happy that I listened.

Florgoth

Colour me devastated. Pick me up, dust me down, blow on my wounds because track 3, “Song for Peter Hughes” kicked the shit out of me. I have heard one or two songs about “failing” to achieve musical stardom, Ian Hunter being an expert at it, Song for Peter Hughes really does the job well, it invokes that feeling and how it doesn’t fully leave you, just fades like bruises. Footprints on your back. Split lips that never fully heal. Scraping along for scraps, cigarette butts in a jar with a potato, gaffer taped jeans…But,but, you can’t fail if you don’t try and fuck it’s a hell of a journey yes?

I’m not sure this is a review, probably just a stream of consciousness trepanned by one very very brutally honest song.

The rest of the album works like a set of demos that show honesty, and musicality. You can feel the pain, the love and the raw nerves. It has teeth in places, overloads the mic with spittle and spite. Pure in it’s intention, honest to it’s core.

I’m off to lick my own wounds.

Untidy Music

A lot of the time here at the Feature Friday headquarters (just kidding, we don’t have headquarters, it’s more like a decrepit shack in the woods with 5 typewriters) we’ll get stuff that is pristinely produced. Which is awesome, it really shows how democratized bedroom production has become thanks to DAW’s and plugins. And then you get this… I can hear an obvious tape hiss even on phone speakers, the vocals are off-key and the recordings of them are clipping at times, just straight up amateurish shit…

And I love it! I love it because it’s as ugly as it’s beautiful purely on the premise of it being so damn heartfelt. It kind of brings me back to the days of shitty demos being recorded on a cheap 4-track cassette recorder… if you were lucky enough to have one! And now with the clinical cleanliness that DAW-recording provides I feel like the art of shitty demos kind of disappeared. Except for some projects then, just like this one, that are like “Hey, I still have a cheap Tascam knock off lying around and damn it I’ll use that thing till it falls apart!”

Now, I’m not saying that the only redeeming factor here is its DIY charm, far from it! These are a collection of some beautiful folky acoustic punk songs that just happen to be captured that way. This and the fact that the lyrics here feel like reading someone’s personal diary really give it an intimate personal feel especially with the lyrics here being so straightforward, honest and reflective. 

And then the record closes off with the words “Thank you, goodnight” as if you were witnessing a live show. And it really hammers home again, that intimate vibe. As if you were witnessing someone pouring their heart out on a stage with nothing but a ramshackle acoustic guitar.

And as much as I like the well-produced offerings we often talk about, dammit, I hope we get more of these as well cause this is damn beautiful.

Eveyweveydevey

Updated: October 16, 2026 — 4:56 am

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