Like most artists living in NYC, it can be hard to meet up sometimes, so Jean Miche met up via WhatsApp to record themselves interviewing each other.

AKA JK: Hey, wanna do a walky talky interview?

La Fleur: Alright!

AKA JK: I guess we’re supposed to talk about records?

La Fleur: We’re supposed to talk about records? What are we supposed to say about records?

AKA JK: I dunno. I guess Jean Miche isn’t quite two years old, Jean Miche doesn’t have a lot of experience with records, huh?

La Fleur: Noooo, we don’t have any records. Actually, I’ve never… I’ve never been arrested in my life I don’t think.

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It is, upon occasion, the privilege of the humble music reviewer to introduce his or her audience to an artist they have almost certainly never heard of, because said artist hails from some god forsaken place like Germany, that dastardly nation responsible for spawning two world wars (and even worse!) my second ex-wife, who is a kind of one-person world war and against whom I hold a grudge because she won’t let me see our Chihuahua Rudi, who loathes everyone and everything and holds the world’s record for nonstop barking at 12 hours, 43 minutes, and 17 seconds.

Oh, I know that plenty of German bands have successfully crossed the Atlantic Ocean to our shores. Can, Neu!, Kraftwerk, Trio, Scorpions, Rammstein, Tangerine Dream—the list goes on and on. (See Boney M., who many credit as one of Hitler’s much-vaunted vengeance weapons.) But singer/songwriter Rio Reiser is not amongst their ranks, and that’s too bad. Part of Reiser’s problem was that he was a pop rocker and sometimes folk musician, and such individuals have never broken through to an American audience. What’s more, he sang in German and his approach was frequently sentimental. Finally, his music varied widely in style from folk to pop to new wave to protopunk, making him a tough artist to put a label on.

This is exemplified on 1986’s Rio I., the first album Reiser recorded after leaving the similarly obscure but great Ton Steine Scherben, which aligned itself with West Germany’s squatter scene, as well as its student and labor movements. Ton Steine Scherben’s radical activities translated into mass popularity but no money, and dire financial straits were one of the reasons Reiser left the band, leading to accusations that he was a money-grubbing sellout. It’s true that Reiser’s highly successful debut album put him in the black, financially speaking, but it also happens to be, for many of the German youth who grew up listening to him, a sacred document. My ex- may have had a Kurt Cobain poster on her bedroom wall, but it was to Reiser she turned most often, for such songs as “Junimond” and the great “König Von Deutschland” (“King of Germany”).

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PHOTO: KELLI McGUIRE | It’s easy to dig the smart sound of Fascinations Grand Chorus, a Brooklyn duo led by Stephanie Cupo who previously led the band Souvenir Stand, a New York outfit that used to play Nirvana’s “About a Girl” in the style of the Zombies.

Here, she’s paired with Andrew Pierce who is often described as her rival, though that’s given no explanation or particular proof. Actually they are clearly of the same mind in creating the kind of irresistible ’60s era pop, once thought disposable but which actually turns out to be indispensable.

After an introductory four song, self-titled debut EP that came out this summer, the duo is back this fall with its second four-track EP, “Actor / Actress” on October 14—and we’re happy to be premiering its first track, the sprightly “When You Make Up Your Mind.”

FGC has certainly made up its mind on approach, using all analog equipment to record her vintage organ work and the rest of the instruments, with no digital alterations, and keeping classic pop creators like Joe Meek in mind. It succeeds in creating a song that echoes the classics while sounding entirely brand new. Put on your go-go boots and dance.

Fascinations Grand Chorus’ new 4-track EP, “Actor / Actress” arrives in stores in November. Preorder it here.

Currently residing in Los Angeles, Kayla Cohen records and performs under the moniker Itasca. Known for acid-folk of an uncommonly rich variety, her success derives from high-quality songs, beautiful vocals, and most strikingly, considerable acumen on guitar. Far from a typical strummer, she’s also no showboat; folks equally into Judee Sill and Bert Jansch should find Open to Chance to be a treat as she’s joined by a full band for the first time. It’s out September 30 on vinyl, compact disc, and digital through Paradise of Bachelors.

Although Kayla Cohen is far from the standard underground folkie, Itasca’s discography does begin in a manner that sorta harkens back to the genre’s boom years. Specifically, her self-released 2012 debut Grace Riders on the Road was offered on cassette in a miniscule run of 50 alongside a more substantial CDR edition of 300. Next came her 6-song “Proto” cassette from 2013, its number bumped up to 80 as circulated by the Belgian label Sloow Tapes. Naturally, it’s physical manifestation is scarce today and sadly, it doesn’t seem to be available digitally at the moment.

That’s not the case with Grace Riders on the Road, which is found on Itasca’s Bandcamp page. It captures the sound of one woman in a room with six strings as a touch of tape hiss emphasizes the modest but competent nature of the recording. Cohen’s playing is already very impressive here, the fingerpicking just weighty enough to keep her gently and occasionally airy songs from dissipating like plumes of incense smoke.

Her follow-up full length and vinyl debut arrived in ’14 on Ducktails dude Matthew Mondanile’s New Images label, and it documents a major step forward. Where her previous effort basically connected as an exponent of the 21st century u-ground folk impulse, Unmoored by the Wind deepened the scenario considerably; instead of simply being informed by the long solo folk chanteuse tradition, Cohen’s personality and ability shined so brightly that the disc could easy be passed-off as a reissue of a rare and high dollar artifact from the late ’60s-early ’70s.

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