Australia. The backbone of several memes regarding its apparently nightmarish wildlife and the home of the late legend Steve Irwin, it has bred quite a lot of great bands throughout the decades. AC/DC, INXS, Men at Work, and Midnight Oil come to mind. Most recently, a trio called The Chats have been dominating the international punk scene with their humorous, punchy songs. However, The Chats are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what’s going down in the land down under.
In recent years, a fairly spectacular underground music scene has developed in Australia. Featuring bands such as Gee Tee, R.M.F.C., and Tee Vee Repairmann, the style has been called “Egg Punk” by some, and it typically features fast, distorted barre chords punctuated by loud guitar lines or mellow synths, impenetrable bass, and drums that are so compressed they almost sound mechanized. The vocals are often filtered to the point of being borderline incomprehensible. It’s fast, fun, and an exhilarating ride.
Photo courtesy of YouTube
The project we’ll focus on here is Tee Vee Repairmann, a one man project created by Ishka Edmeades. In 2021, he caught the ears of many listeners with his debut EP, Patterns. Featuring four tracks that blow by at a blistering pace, the EP is the perfect mix of grimy punk and bubblegum catchiness. Opening track “Bad Taste” contains metallic hihats, compressed guitars, and robotic vocals that still manage to convey human emotions despite the minimalistic lyrics. “Lights Out!” cranks the tempo up even more, with spindly guitar lines and shouted vocals coalescing into a memorable chorus. “Dirty Hands” slows things down just a bit, with the vocals becoming even more chaotic and indignant sounding. The guitars also take on a bigger role on this track, with the chorus featuring a caterwauling lead line that sounds like it’s being played through a blown out amp. These three tracks all sound fairly similar, which makes the title track, “Patterns,” even more surprising. This track features a skittering drum machine, synthesizers, and a more danceable vibe. However, Edmeades’ guitar playing and vocal delivery help tie the song in with the rest of the EP.
After his exciting emergence, he released an album called What’s On TV? earlier this year. The first track, “Out of Order,” indicates the differences between the previous EP and this album. The production is much more spacious, with the guitars and drums having more room to breathe. In truth, everything just feels bigger, though the punky tightness of the EP is still present in the songwriting. Edmeades’ vocals are buoyed by airy synths, which are also a new touch to his music. The next track, “Time 2 Kill,” is a bit more of a return to form, though the newfound space in the sound continues to benefit the song. This song is the shortest on the album, clocking in at 1:16, but it still feels like a complete listen. Parts of the song reminded me of Thin Lizzy mixed with The Ramones, with the track even ending with a screaming guitar refrain as it sprints to a stop.
Throughout the twelve tracks, the album perfectly toes the line between the condensed punk of Patterns and the wider atmospheres of indie rock. Another way to describe the change would be to compare Patterns to Ramones and What’s On TV? to Rocket to Russia. The ethos is still there, but there’s a heightened sense of maturity and a greater realization of scope. “People (Everywhere I Go)” even mellows things out by adding swaths of reverb to the guitars and vocals, with Edmeades’ observational yet minimal lyrics working nicely with the change of pace. Overall, the album is a brilliant step forward for the project.
Tee Vee Repairmann is one of the most exciting things to come out of Australia and the underground punk scene there. The willingness to change while sticking to the influences of earlier work will hopefully prove to be a good sign for things to come.
Alex Chilton has become something of a hero to multiple generations of alternative rockers, power pop enthusiasts, and music lovers in general. First rising to fame in the late ’60s with the band The Box Tops, Chilton was just a teenager when the band’s debut single, “The Letter,” became a number one hit. For three more years, the group continued to release hits, though after multiple lineup changes, the group split.
Having been the frontman of a successful band for multiple years, Chilton could have done whatever he wanted. He contemplated going to college, he worked on multiple solo songs, and he was even considered for the position of singer in Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Instead, he decided to do none of these things and went on to form a band called Big Star.
Big Star. Photo courtesy of uDiscover Music
There could easily be an entirely separate article about how great Big Star is, and maybe that will come down the line, but I’ll keep it simple here and say that Chilton should have easily had another hit group under his belt. Big Star’s first two albums were incredibly well orchestrated, written, and produced, with folk-tinged ballads meeting soaring power pop and heart-pounding rock. However, due to mismanagement at the band’s label, the albums didn’t receive the widespread release they should’ve, and despite critical acclaim, sold poorly upon initial release.
Many bands would’ve indignantly tried to get more attention from the label by trying to make more commercial material and perhaps cater more towards what the executives wanted. However, Chilton refused to do this. With Big Star only being a two piece after the first two albums, he decided to take advantage of the situation and experiment more than ever before. The production became looser, the songs less structured, and the instrumentation more varied. The resulting album, Third, was so strange that it was shelved for many years, and Big Star broke up.
Now that he was once again on his own, Chilton could’ve tried again with a different group and perhaps had better luck with his label. However, he again decided to go down the path less traveled, moving to New York and jumping into the rising club scene there. Inspired by the punk, new wave, and psychobilly bands that he was hearing, Chilton decided to take part, releasing solo material in the latter half of the ’70s that not only sounded nothing like what he’d made with Big Star but also seemed to turn a cold shoulder to anything that resembled pop. He loosened up his approach to music even further, which is on full display on the live album Ocean Club ‘77. This performance sees Chilton tackle a mixture of songs from his Box Top and Big Star days, as well as other covers and originals, with reckless abandon. The tight and gloriously arranged Big Star classic “September Gurls” is transformed into a sweaty, out of breath punk tune. It’s a far different vibe than anything that Chilton had done before, which is precisely the idea.
When the ’80s came around, Chilton further moved to avoid the spotlight, largely shirking solo music for the first half of the decade and working with Tav Falco’s Panther Burns, a band in which he decided to cede the frontman position in favor of just being a guitarist and producer. However, Chilton’s talent was still inspiring many, with the rock band The Bangles even covering “September Gurls” on their album Different Light. Another rock band, The Replacements, also named a song after him. Chilton then began to make solo records again, becoming quite prolific for the next few decades.
Alex Chilton sadly passed away in 2010. In that moment, the world lost a strange visionary. He proved that there was fulfillment to be found in resolutely sticking to your own path, that there was a legacy to be made in the underground. Had he continued making pop music for the rest of his days, there’s a possibility that he would have had less of an impact. Instead, he blazed his own trails, and his talent shone through regardless. There is so much more to say about the man, but the best way to explore his true contributions to music is to listen for yourself.
Magic lies purely in belief. Without belief, all magic and illusion crumble, but it’s a fine line between suspending disbelief and abandoning reason, and for that reason many people choose to block out the idea of magic entirely–their loss. I have always depended on finding magic in Jessica Winter’s music, and she has always provided it, so reliably that it sometimes seems like she might be a being from another planet. With a soaring magic carpet ride of a voice and a talent for writing pop hooks that rivals anybody on the charts today, her sound can’t be tucked neatly into any identifying genre but exists in a liminal space between electro-pop and indie goth, laced with jagged, searing punk rock rawness. Winter has called it “crance” (music for crying and dancing to simultaneously.) The Cure’s Robert Smith is a fan.
Besides performing as a solo artist, she’s produced acts such as Jazmin Bean, Gorillaz and Phoebe Green, and is currently scoring season two of the hit CBBC series Princess Mirabelle. She’s done countless collaborations with artists such as Lucia and the Best Boys, MADGE, Walt Disco, and Cid Rim. She’s also formerly one half of the cult favorite duo PREGOBLIN, her signature soaring vocals gracing all the hits.
Once, while talking with one of Winter’s occasional collaborators, I asked him if he thought that Winter had out-of-body experiences when she sang. Her voice was capable of reaching such incredible heights, to use it must bring on a kind of mystical experience. Was that so? I asked. Could you see it when you watched her sing? He nodded, grinning. A voice like a magic carpet ride, indeed. (Winter described her style of vocal delivery in a Wonderland magazine interview in 2019 as “Julie Andrews singing Marilyn Manson.”)
With her pale teardrop-shaped face framed in delicate wire spectacles, she looks like Isabelle Adjani in the ‘80s, fine-lined sylphic beauty with a steel core. A childhood spent in hospital informed her worldview, as she developed an expansive imagination to cope with the isolation and confinement. That extraordinary imagination has translated into dark, elegant pop songs embroidered with poignant, sometimes deeply cutting observations. Her writing is defined by a remarkable honesty; she possesses a rare knack for telling universal truths without falling into the realm of cliché. (For example, the autofiction stylings of “Play,”the first track of her debut EP Sad Music: “I’m feeling famous/I’m feeling international/I got my money and my body/A miracle/I’m everything I ever needed growing up/I’m a fuck up/And I’m ok.”)
Winter was born in the seaside town of Portsmouth, England, but spent most of her childhood on the neighboring outrider, Hayling Island, which she describes as, “…a tiny Victorian island…it’s bizarre, it’s just like everyone goes there to die. We weren’t very well off, and you could get a house there that was quite decent for the price of a flat in Portsmouth. The people there are either just druggy or pensioners. It was quite a bleak place to grow up.”
She moved back to Portsmouth aged 15; it was there that she began writing her first fully formed songs. “I actually started writing song songs when I was about 16,” she reminisces. “But I’d always written little bits of music on the piano when I was growing up, because I’ve been playing piano since I was about two. So, I was writing (music) but…until I became a more mature person, I didn’t really write songs.”
“I used to use my uncle’s lyrics when I was 16. He would always write lyrics but he never knew how to do music so I would just take his lyric books and then start writing songs for him. Because I never really had anything to say at the time; I was just a child, figuring it out. I just thought life was how it should be, because you do at that age, and it’s not until recently that I’ve actually realized how messed up and traumatic my childhood was. I knew that I had a lot of pain, which is why music was a therapy and I always did it, but I could never put it into words until I got a bit older.”
Since then, Winter has written two EPs (2020’s Sad Music, followed by More Sad Music a year later) and several singles. She recently signed with the label Lucky Number Music, and her third EP, Limerence, is due to be released in the near future.
“The EP covers similar things to what that word means,” Winter explains. “It’s basically an obsession or an addiction to love. There are three stages of limerence, and each one gets a bit more psychotic. I feel like the songs as well, each song gets progressively more psychotic…the way the songs have been picked and listening to it as a whole, I just thought it really makes sense to call it Limerence because not only is it an addiction to love, or an obsession with love, there’s also a song that covers just addiction in general, so I thought it was just a good word for the EP.”
Choreograph, the first single from the upcoming EP, was released on September 20th. The music video is a sly homage to the classic film, Singing in the Rain, featuring Winter in her signature wire-rimmed glasses and sharply tailored grey suit singing her heart out to the heavens in a thunderstorm. The lyrics are a commentary on the hard truth that love can’t be forced, and that picture-perfect ideals don’t always make for happy endings. It’s a joyous rejection of the over-marketed Hollywood fairytale: “real love/can’t be choreographed.”
Of the track, Winter says she wanted to express the feeling of searching for, “…something real in a place of very forced situations. People saying like, ‘this is love,’ by having the nature of a certain set-up…or just going like, “this is a good time,” because of the way things look… Even venues are just being created to look good on Instagram. ‘This will give you a good time, because you’re going to get loads of photos in this place,’ and it’s just like, whoa! Surely there’s more than that, surely there’s more to life than how things are on the surface. It was like, made out of desperation. Come on! There’s more to life than this. I want to find something real.”
Martin Newell, the man behind The Cleaners from Venus
Martin Newell is a fascinating character.
In 1980, Newell formed The Cleaners from Venus with Lawrence “Lol” Elliot, though since then, he has remained the only consistent member. Under this moniker, Newell has released a multitude of albums, and this isn’t even taking into consideration his wealth of material under his own name. Starting with Blow Away Your Troubles, Newell showed the world what to expect from The Cleaners from Venus: wonderful, jangly music that was staunchly lo-fi.
While Newell certainly has impressive melodic sensibilities, showcased particularly on the 1982 album (well, one of them, anyway) Midnight Cleaners, he also refused to let his songs get to the point of being “pop.” The closest The Cleaners from Venus came to this disgusting term was the song “Only a Shadow,” a tune with an earworm of a guitar melody and an anthemic chorus. However, everything is coated with a lo-fi hiss that behaves almost like the needles of a cactus. By this, I mean that it will scare off any surface level listener. However, for others, the almost demo quality of the recordings makes them more endearing.
Newell and Elliot, upon starting out, used hardly any equipment to record their music, sometimes even using homemade instruments. Eventually, a four track recorder was brought into the mix, which became Newell’s preferred method of recording. Rather than upgrade to a professional studio environment, he stuck to his D.I.Y. guns and continued letting the substance of the music speak instead of the style. And what an amount of substance there was!
The lyrics to each Cleaners from Venus song are woven together like the finest wicker basket. Whether they are painting gorgeously detailed pictures of life in England (“Wivenhoe Bells (II)”), highlighting working class angst (“Summer in a Small Town”), or outright damning the state of the world (“The Jangling Man”), each word is fascinating to listen to. Newell’s gift for writing is one that is truly overlooked, with each song packed with enough meaning to make the most stubborn folk music enthusiast blush. The sparsely recorded (and sparsely produced) instrumentation acts as the perfect canvas for these poetic yet direct verbal drawings.
During The Cleaners from Venus’ initial decade-long run, they largely avoided record labels and did not tour often. Newell has been quoted as saying that the music business and media “tend to ruin everything.” This only added to the mystique of the enigmatic band, and early cassettes of their work became highly prized collectors’ items. The sheer amount of support for the band’s works actually inspired Newell, who had largely decided to back away from music, to start recording under the Cleaners from Venus moniker again in 2010. Since then, he’s been prolific as ever, and he continues to record music even to this day, with his newest single “Lo-Fi London” coming out last month.
Outside of The Cleaners from Venus, Newell has lived an extraordinary life. He has been a successful poet and writer, even touring as a spoken word artist. In 1989, he teamed up with a fellow cleaner from Venus, Nelson Nice, to form The Brotherhood of Lizards, an acoustic duo that gained much attention for completing a tour by bicycle, riding their bikes to every show. Newell has also released six solo albums, with his first, 1993’s The Greatest Living Englishman, being his most successful release to date.
To this day, Newell embodies the idea of D.I.Y. done right. He does whatever he wants, and because of this, he has many dedicated fans. The Cleaners from Venus proved that, in the decade of excess and beyond, true heart and creativity will always stand the test of time. In a time where mainstream music has lost even more of its nutrients, Newell’s work past and present remains an organic field. All you have to do is take a bite.
Trailer for a documentary detailing the life and times of Martin Newell
The Beach Boys during the late 60’s-early 70’s. From left: Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston, Mike Love, Brian Wilson, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson
Pet Sounds is one of the greatest albums of all time. There’s no doubt about it.
Released by The Beach Boys in 1966, it peaked at number 10 on the charts, which was actually considered a disappointment seeing as how successful the band had been at the time. While modern critics have come to understand how groundbreaking this album is, at the time, critical reception was also more mixed than previous albums, with some recognizing the album’s intricate genius while others were confused by the dramatic change in sound and tone from the albums of yesteryear. After all, the last Beach Boys album before this point was the empty-headed fun of The Beach Boys Party!
Within a year, however, the tides turned: following Pet Sounds was the single “Good Vibrations,” a compositional masterwork that shot to #1 on the charts and restored The Beach Boys in the public eye, at least for a moment.
“Good Vibrations” was intended to be one of the songs off of an album called SMiLE, a collection of sounds that would go in even more bizarre and interesting directions than its predecessor. However, Brian Wilson’s struggles with mental illness and drug use, as well as anxiety over how the public would view the album, ultimately led to the album being shut down, at least for the time being. Some of the recordings for this album were quickly compiled into Smiley Smile, which confused many and did not perform well on the charts. This sudden halt in momentum was highly detrimental to both Brian’s mental health and the band’s status as stars, and for many, this is where the story of the Beach Boys ends. This could not be farther from the truth.
From 1967 to 1974, The Beach Boys proved themselves to be remarkable composers, lyricists, and musicians, even with the dwindling participation of Brian, though he still contributed songs and ideas from time to time. Starting with Wild Honey and ending with Holland, there were ideas and gems abound on each tracklist.
Wild Honey’s album cover
Wild Honey seems to be The Beach Boys dusting themselves off after Smiley Smile. The title track, standout single “Darlin’” (which shot to a refreshing #19 on the charts), and “How She Boogalooed It” proved that the boys could still have fun while advancing themselves as musicians. Other songs such as “Let the Wind Blow,” “I’d Love Just Once to See You,” and “Aren’t You Glad,” serve as foreshadowing to what was to come from the band in the future, with comprehensive melodies and thoughtful pacing. Carl Wilson also continues to prove himself as a vocal powerhouse on this album, his singing on “Darlin’” being particularly impressive.
Friends album cover
Friends, released in 1968, is one of the most overlooked albums in the band’s discography. The vocal stylings and song structures give off the sense that this album is the perfect pairing of pre-Pet Sounds pop sensibilities and post-Pet Sounds musical knowledge. “Anna Lee, The Healer,” “Passing By,” and the title track have an innocence to them that harkens back to days on the beach while refusing to stop moving forward. Dennis Wilson also begins to come out of his shell on this album, writing the songs “Little Bird” and “Be Still,” which are both beautiful songs and serve as indicators of where Dennis’s writing would go in the future. Overall, the album feels very appropriate for the time and features some of the strongest vocal concoctions from the band, particularly on the chorus of “Anna Lee, The Healer.”
20/20 album cover
20/20 sees the band emerge from the gentleness of Friends with a newfound grit and energy while still preserving their melodic roots. The first two tracks on the album, Mike Love’s perfect nostalgia bait “Do It Again” and a gloriously performed cover of The Ronettes “I Can Hear Music” kick the album off in style and even got some love from the record buying public. The tight, punchy pop of “Bluebirds Over the Mountain” is punctuated by loud, surprisingly distorted guitar licks throughout, while “All I Want To Do” features some of Mike Love’s most passionate lyrics yet, making the song a fun listen. However, the album isn’t all late 60’s coarseness: newly minted member Bruce Johnston has his moment in the spotlight with the piano instrumental “The Nearest Faraway Place,” and Dennis Wilson’s gently swaying “Be With Me” serves as a stunning power ballad. Other standouts include Al Jardine’s jaunty take on “Cotton Fields,” the soothing waltz “Time to Get Alone,” and the surprise SMiLE compositions “Our Prayer” and “Cabinessence,” which, while they don’t entirely fit the feel of the album, are still mind blowing musical experiments.
The photo from the Sunflower album cover
The 1970’s kicked off with Sunflower, one of the band’s greatest albums. The Dennis composition “Slip on Through” kicks things off with gusto, followed by the soulful “This Whole World” and “Add Some Music to Your Day,” the latter of which features incredibly rich vocal harmonies. “It’s About Time” still stands out to this day as one of the band’s most grandiose, powerful tunes; it would become a killer live track in years to come. Ballads such as Bruce Johnston’s “Tears in the Morning” and Dennis Wilson’s classic love song “Forever” showcase a new dimension of the band’s softer side. The sonic experimentation on this record must be noted as well, with the cavernous opening of “Dierdre,” the proto-dream pop of “All I Wanna Do,” and the intricate, multifaceted “Cool, Cool Water,” the latter originating during the SMiLe sessions, showcasing a band not just evolving with the times, but leading the pack.
Surf’s Up album cover
1971’s Surf’s Up features an even more eclectic mix of material. The album kicks off with the catchy yet urgent “Don’t Go Near The Water,” an environmental message that still holds up today, sadly. Following this song is “Long Promised Road,” which serves as a reminder of how amazing Carl’s voice is. Other standouts on the album include the sunkissed Bruce Johnston classic “Disney Girls (1957),” the thoughtful and atmospheric “Feel Flows,” and the incredibly bleak, Brian Wilson-penned “‘Til I Die.” Capping off the album is one of the more famous SMiLE cuts, the title track. Featuring multiple segments that coalesce under a dusky, murky instrumental and obscure lyrics, the song is yet another example of Brian Wilson’s compositional abilities.
In the following year, the band released two albums, both featuring new members Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, formerly of the band The Flame. These albums, Carl and the Passions – So Tough and Holland, showcase a band that is confidently wading into the future. At this point, The Beach Boys had begun to see renewed critical acclaim and a steadily increasing presence at their live shows, though record sales were still lacking. They were embracing a new image, and with that, they kicked down the door in 1972 with some of their strongest work yet.
Carl and the Passions back cover, featuring new members Ricky Fataar (fourth from left) and Blondie Chaplin (second from right)
Carl and the Passions opens with “You Need a Mess of Help to Stand Alone,” a funky number that shows off a groovier side of The Beach Boys. It features intricate vocal harmonies, tight guitar solos, and stabbing piano hits that roll it along at a quick pace with Ricky’s drumming. Blondie gets his first shot at the spotlight with the strutting “Here She Comes,” on which he proves himself to be a strong vocalist. “Marcella,” is a quintessential 70’s Beach Boys track, with its sultry piano, lush guitars, rich production, and stacked vocals that flow every which way during the chorus of the song. “Make it Good,” is another spacious, beautiful Dennis Wilson ballad, with his vulnerable vocal backed by a Hollywood-esque wall of orchestration and vocal harmonies that could bring a tear to even the most hardened listener’s eye. “All This is That” feels like a late 60’s cut, with its meditative themes, blissful harmonies, and mellow vibes. Ending the album is “Cuddle Up,” another Dennis ballad that closes the curtain with a deeply emotional bow.
Holland album cover
Later that year came Holland, truly a spectacular album. These nine songs feel like the culmination of years of growing and maturing as artists. “Sail On, Sailor” is a powerful and entertaining opener fronted by Blondie, and its swelling 6/8 time instrumentation gives it an appropriate seafaring feel. The surprisingly sludgy and austere “Steamboat” follows, with Carl’s plaintive vocal acting as a beacon within the murky low tones of the instrumentation. The next three songs, “Big Sur,” “The Beaks of Eagles,” and “California” all comprise a suite known as The California Saga. The fact that The Beach Boys even attempted a song suite is commendable, but the songs included are even more so. “Big Sur” is a charming waltz powered by harmonica and pedal steel guitar. Dreamy lyrics describe elements of California that are often overlooked, such as its forests. “The Beaks of Eagles” is a stunningly creative piece, featuring spoken word sections accompanied by flute flourishes, piano, and ghostly harmonies. In contrast, there are also sections of the song that roll merrily along, as if to break the tension. Finally, “California” is a euphoric, grown up version of the 60’s sound, with Mike Love harkening back to multiple iconic Californian sites such as the Big Sur Congregation and the farmhouse in the sycamores. It’s a lot of fun and is probably the most authentically “Beach Boys” the band had been in years.
The second side of the album starts off with “The Trader,” a stalwart piece of music with its head held high before things quiet down after a sudden key change from D major to C major halfway through. “Leaving This Town” stands as Blondie and Ricky’s highlight during their time with the band, with haunting piano chords, heart wrenching lyrics, and a synthesizer solo of all things burning the song into the mind of the listener. “Only With You” stands out as one of Dennis’s most beautiful compositions. Velvety piano mixes with faint, heavenly strings in a way that has hardly ever happened, with the watery production actually helping the song’s graceful nature. Finally, “Funky Pretty” ends the album with some quality lyrics from Mike Love and an applause-worthy instrumental from the band. Also of note is the companion EP to this album, Brian Wilson’s fairytale Mt. Vernon and Fairway, the intriguing instrumental and descriptive narration making it a strange listen that proves that Brian still had something to say.
Carl Wilson during the Holland sessions
After 1974, with the release of the hugely successful best hits compilation Endless Summer, the dream was over, and the music that followed largely revolved around trying to repeat past successes, chase pop trends, and cover oldies. However, the music produced in 1967-74 proves not only that The Beach Boys were far from adrift after Pet Sounds, but that each member could shine in his own right. Even the worst cuts from this era demonstrate that the band was fighting into the future, discovering new and interesting ways to express themselves. Although not nearly enough people know about these classic albums, for those who have listened to them, they will always stand the test of time as musical classics.
The genre-defying Welsh language trio Adwaith hit their home music scene hard in 2015 and have since brought their spellbinding sound and punching attitude to stages at Glastonbury, Green Man and many others across the UK. The larger British music scene has quickly embraced the band’s extraordinary energy and our prayers have just been answered with Adwaiths new album Bato Mato. Fresh back from their weekend at Glasto, we spoke to Gwen, Hollie and Heledd about the album’s reinvigorated sound and their hopes for carrying Welsh language music to a mass of new listeners from across the world.
James: Hey guys, how was playing Glastonbury?
Hollie: Crazy. What a mad experience.
Gwen: It’s just so massive, it’s impossible to see all the bands you want to see. But we did keep finding new things.
James: I heard that a festival had something to do with starting the band in the first place, why don’t you tell me a bit about that.
Gwen: Well Hollie and I have known each other since we were babies. We went to this Welsh festival in 2015 and after the festival, we thought; well we both play instruments, why don’t we start writing music together? We started off with a few covers, which were truly awful, what covers did we try to do?
Hollie: Oh dear, we tried to do ‘Build a home’ (The Cinematic Orchestra) and we attempted some First Aid Kit as well. But we started getting annoyed with ourselves so we thought; let’s sack this off and do our own thing.
James: Do you think those covers will ever see the light of day?
Hollie: There were no recordings of them thank God.
James: Going back to the festival where it all began, which bands did you see which really inspired you?
Gwen: I think that year Gwenno was playing and a band called HMS Morris. At the time there weren’t any female musicians on the Welsh festival scene, so seeing them made us think that it was something that we could do. So we went back and started writing then had our first gig in September 2015, which is where Hollie and I first met Heledd. We didn’t have a drummer and luckily Heledd happened to be there, so we were very lucky she came to the gig.
Hollie: Thank the lord!
James: I imagine that getting a band started in Wales must be very different to doing it in a major city like London. Would you say you guys are from a pretty rural area?
Hollie: Oh yes definitely rural.
James: Was it difficult finding places to play in the early days?
Gwen: We were lucky to have this venue called The Parrot in our town and that’s where we Hollie and I saw our first bands and eventually played our first gigs. We were very very lucky to have the venue because I don’t think we would have started a band without it.
Hollie: Definitely not.
Gwen: Or even have had the opportunity to play gigs if it wasn’t for that venue. The Welsh music scene there was very supportive of us and particularly of Welsh language music as a whole.
James: Would you say that there are a large amount of Welsh artists performing in the Welsh language now, or is it something which has yet to cross into the mainstream in Wales?
Gwen: I think it is quite hard for Welsh language artists to break out. I think our audience is mostly outside of Wales but industry-wise, it is still quite hard to get support sometimes. We’ve been looking for a booking agent for quite a while now, and a lot of them have said ‘you’re great but you’re singing in Welsh.’ So it is still quite hard but it is getting better and you see more artists breaking out of Wales and doing more gigs outside of Wales which is really nice to see.
James: This new album, Bato Mato, tell me how important it is to you.
Hollie: It’s so important to us, it’s our little baby.
Gwen: I’m hoping it exposes Welsh language music to a big audience and it’s kind of the next step now after the last album Melyn. We’re just excited to see where it takes us. Melyn took us to some crazy places so I’m hoping this will let us continue on that crazy journey.
James: What was the writing process behind the album like?
Gwen: We wrote most of it after a trip together to Siberia. We did a gig out there and I think it was just such a crazy experience from start to finish that we just couldn’t not write an album about it. We were very inspired by the landscapes and the people and these big industrial abandoned buildings. It was a bit grey and a bit bleak. We came back and we just had to write an album, it was during lockdown so it wasn’t how we would usually write together; sending ideas back and forth. It wasn’t ideal but lockdown gave us a bit of a break to work on our sound and the tracks.
James: Did the album turn out how you expected when you first imagined what it might sound like?
Gwen: I think we had a vision for it, we definitely knew we wanted it to sound a lot more developed. Compared to the last album I think the pop songs are more ‘poppy’ and the dark songs are darker. Everything is more intense and saturated. We knew we wanted to do that. I don’t think we envisioned it quite how it turned out but it’s definitely turned out better than we hoped.
Hollie: When we went to the studio we had loads of weird instruments that we had no idea how to play, just to see what sounds we could make by experimenting. You can probably see one of them behind Gwen right now.
James: Oh yes, what is that, Gwen?
Gwen: It’s a Zhongruan, which is a Chinese instrument. It’s very bizarre looking and I’m still not really sure how to play it.
James: I’m sure you’ve noticed a big shift in the music scene where bands are becoming more experimental with their sound, breaking down the barriers of genre and even working against their own established sound. Has that resonated with you guys with the new album?
Gwen: I think all of our music tastes are very different and diverse, so it made a lot of sense to write an album that wasn’t genre specific. I think that’s how you make and keep music exciting.
James: What’s next for you guys? Are places like London becoming your new home or are you more interested in trying to break a bigger music scene in Wales?
Gwen: We want to make Welsh music a big thing. World domination is the end goal. I think that the Welsh language in music has previously been frowned upon by people outside of Wales and people in Wales. So that’s really urged us to want to spread the Welsh love and to play Welsh music around the world, and then to open doors to other bands to do the same.
Heledd: I feel like we definitely want to stay in Wales too and create a bigger scene there, and also inspire more people there to want to embrace music.
James: I mean I for one would love to see more bands singing in their own language. I love bands who sing in their own accents and so to make your language a part of your music is really great. So what’s the immediate plan after the launch of the album?
Gwen: We’ve got a little tour lined up and some festivals coming up soon, with hopefully some gigs abroad by the end of the year. Just to gig the album as much as we can.
James: I’ll be sure to catch you guys playing soon. Any upcoming gigs in London that I should know about?
Hollie: Oh yes! Moth Club on Tuesday the 5th of July. Come down!
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Adwaith’s new album Bato Mato is out now via Libertino Records. Catch them at Moth Club on July 5th. Tickets on DICE.
Wow, I cannot believe Sigrid invented music. That’s how I felt after hearing the latest LP from singer/songwriter/superstar Sigrid.
First of all, I’d like to point out that 2022 has gotten off to a fantastic start for the release of new music. Hell, this month alone has already made me nervous about just how this year’s wrap-up of our favourite albums will go down. But between you and I, I think I’ve found my winner.
Upon the release of “Mirror” last year, I was ecstatic about the potential of Sigrid’s next musical outing. Sucker Punch was already one of my favourite albums of 2019, but my goodness, the soundscape of Sigrid in 2021 blew me away. From “Mirror” to “Burning Bridges,” the heavy emphasis on this broader, heavier, and dirtier sound gave me goosebumps.
Opening track “It Gets Dark” majestically defines what you’re in for this time around. With the swooning string-led intro, tripping you up into a song carried by a groovy bassline, Sigrid is bigger than ever and wants to make that known. All throughout this album, Sigrid lets out her inner rockstar. Anyone who’s seen Sigrid live knows that she and the band put so much soul into their performances with a larger emphasis on a live sound, but translated into the recorded tracks such as “It Gets Dark?” My god, can you imagine how much this track will go off when played live? Can we, also, appreciate how beautiful the music video is? Stunning. And also a little bit mad. A planet snaps in half, and out comes Sigrid. I mean, what?
The depth of this album really is insane. It combines elements of 80s pop anthems, 90s club music, and, of course, a large pump of rock mixed right into the very flesh of How To Let Go. So much so that on “Bad Life,” we see a Bring Me The Horizon feature on the track. The sentiments of Sigrid’s writing are the same as ever, though, bringing you the purest of vibes to dance along to (and the words behind “Bad Life” are no exception).
Each track drenches you in power; it fills you with adrenaline and glee. Songs such as “Dancer” and “Mistake Like You” feel like the slow-mo part of your own film where you turn around and stand up for whatever it is you believe in. The beauty of Sigrid’s style radiates relatability in a way that anyone can identify with her tunes, and everyone can get down when the lights go down in the club or on the slow train home from work. There’s only so much I can type because words don’t do the album justice when the production, the melodies, and the lyrics all melt your heart, ready to hold you through the tears and grab your hand for the bops.
Every single dropped was a hit, so I don’t want to dwell too much on what you’re most likely to be more familiar with already. The deeper cuts of tracks such as “High Note,” “Dancer,” and “Risk Of Getting Hurt,” however, are magnificent. My absolute favourite track off the album that I’m 100% unashamedly and (probably unhealthily obsessed with) is “A Driver Saved My Night.” It does not need much explanation; it is ridiculously gorgeous and funky, and I absolutely love it.
I really feel like there’s something for everybody on this album; just take some time aside, stick your headphones on, and stream How To Let Go.
Has it really been five years since Everything Now, perhaps one of Arcade Fire’s most polarising albums? And my my, what a road we’ve been on since then. So, it begs the question: Arcade Fire, where are we at?
After the release of “The Lightning” I and II, we see that Win Butler and friends have taken a more traditional approach to their songwriting; not too dissimilar to sounds you’d find off any of their albums from Funeraltothe Suburbs, but obviously with a much tighter approach to production. To me, WE sounds like the bridge between The Suburbs and Reflektor, and I’m all for it.
The album kicks off with “Age Of Anxiety I” and “II (Rabbit Hole),” and it’s a really strong start: the percussive breaths on “Anxiety I” make for a really effective way to almost unnerve you, and the beautiful piano hook that gets shaken off halfway through for this feistier synth-led other half. “Rabbit Hole” takes these same soundscapes but performs it in a way that almost leaves you in a trance. It gives big Reflektor vibes and prepares you for what the rest of the album has to offer.
“Unconditional I (Lookout Kid)” is a very sweet song. It feels like a hug straight from the band. Written with Win and Regine Chassagne’s son in mind, this wholesome track may come across as cheesy and cringey. If The 1975 can get away with it one minute and then sing about tucked-up erections the next, however, I really don’t see why Arcade Fire can’t write one with a more direct and sentimental approach. Yes, it may feel less three-dimensional than some of their earlier work, but I don’t think that should devalue anything else they do.
“Unconditional II (Race and Religion),” featuring the ever-wonderful Peter Gabriel, really brings those 80s vibes back into the mix (if you took off the vocals, I’d think you just played me something off the upcoming Stranger Things 4 soundtrack). It’s always a pleasure hearing the Regine-led tracks from Arcade Fire’s discography, and “Race and Religion” absolutely keeps that trend going. Having Gabriel on the roster of artists Arcade Fire have worked with is a blessing as they always know how to work with fantastic talent, and his contributions feel really at home here. I mean, shake up some of the instrumentation and it could be a Genesis track.
If you’ve listened to WE already, you may have noticed I haven’t mentioned anything about any of the “End of the Empire” tracks. Now, this again very well could just be personal preference, but every time I’ve played this album, the content of these tracks just doesn’t sink in and, instead, goes straight over my head; nothing pulls me in. This is a massive shame as I do seriously enjoy WE as an album otherwise. To have such a large portion of the record, around 10 minutes from the prelude throughout all 4 parts of the “Empire” tracks, somewhat affects my experience of WE. If you’re able to enjoy any of the “Empire” tracks, then absolutely all power to you; I hope to join you someday. Perhaps it’s just not the time yet for me to fully appreciate those songs.
The album as a whole certainly has an identity, but I won’t say it’s their most noteworthy work by any means. It’s a very back-to-basics approach that takes a lot of the best elements of Arcade Fire’s sound and streamlines them into one coherent record (which is absolutely fine, take it as a pallet cleanser if you will). I do, however, think that the production is slightly too polished. A lot of the time, I’m listening to the songs and feeling a build-up that’s never quite finished. In some cases, I think it’s literally just the dynamics of the mix, where something just isn’t loud enough, for example. Does that itself ruin the album for me? No, not at all. I think some albums are better suited to live performances, and from what I’ve seen so far, these songs do sound better in those settings.
I think this album will definitely be one that grows on people more as the days and months go by, and whilst it may not be the Neon Bible or Reflektor 2 that people will always seem to want (because realistically, people don’t know what they really want) we can always count on the fact that WE, will always have –
I’ll never forget when I began listening to Scottish band Glasvegas. In seventh grade, I started branching out from the music I heard in the car or on the radio and almost accidentally started listening to them. My dad had received their 2008 self-titled debut album from my uncle, and because of that, I began listening to it. I immediately fell in love with the atmospheric, dense sonic world that Glasvegas created on the album. Songs such as “Geraldine,” “Go Square Go,” “Daddy’s Gone,” and “It’s My Own Cheating Heart That Makes Me Cry” tackled emotional themes while enveloping the listener in swirling guitars, rumbling bass, and simplistic yet effective drums. Although singer James Allen’s vocals were obscured by such a thick Scottish accent that I often had to look up the lyrics to understand what was being said, I still adored the album and still do to this day.
It turns out that I was not alone in my love for the album. After its release, it ended up going platinum, a big feat for an indie rock band. The band had actually formed years earlier in 2003, slowly working and building a fanbase over the years through constant touring, free demos, and a music video for the demo of “Daddy’s Gone.” This slow build in recognition meant that the album was a deserved smash hit, and Glasvegas enjoyed the benefits their self-titled album reaped.
In the years that followed, the band released two more albums: EUPHORIC /// HEARTBREAK \\\ in 2011, and Later…When The TV Turns to Static in 2013. Sadly, these albums did not perform as well critically or commercially as the debut album. Following the release of Static, the band’s output dried up with the exception of a small tour in 2014 to support the album. As the years went on and the band continued to remain silent, it seemed as though they had broken up. Allen’s struggles with drug use also painted the future of the band in a bleak light.
However, the band suddenly reemerged in 2018 to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of the debut album. They went on tour and re-released the album with a gold cover. They also released demos of the debut album to all streaming platforms. Then, three years later, the unexpected occurred: Glasvegas released their fourth album. Titled Godspeed, the album contains eleven tracks, two of which serve as interludes. Each of these tracks creates a world that not only harkens back to the debut album but also expands on it. The track “Stay Lit,” despite the title, is actually an acoustic guitar-driven track that has a morose, haunted feel to it. “In My Mirror,” one of the standout tracks on the album, pulses with a sense of urgency and contains some of Allen’s most impassioned vocals to date. “Dying to Live” runs in a similar vein, with Allen practically spitting out the lyrics in desperation over a tense instrumental. The tracks “Keep Me A Space” and “My Life Is A Glasshouse (A Thousand Stones Ago)” echo the first album with their sweeping textures and grand soundscapes.
It is nothing short of staggering that Glasvegas were able to make such a quality album after eight years. However, it is also not outside of the band to pull something like this off. After all, this is the same band that existed for five years before their debut album, slowly honing their sound and polishing their craft. Clearly, work ethic is a major part of Glasvegas’s ethos, which is something that must be admired. Many other bands would have folded under lesser circumstances, but with Godspeed, Glasvegas proves that they are made of tougher stuff.
Glasvegas’ new album Godspeed. Photo courtesy of XS Noise
Feel-good upbeat electro-rock flows through Jimkata’s Bonfires, released in July of 2021. With influences spanning from 80s new wave and 90/00’s hip hop and electronic, the band create a well-developed sophisticated palate to the ears. Playfully “dancy, melodic and energetic”, the music reflects the nature of the band, as I found out when interviewing them.
Like many other bands, Jimkata started out by covering songs by punk and grunge bands such as Nirvana, NOFX, Rage Against the Machine and Primus. Yet, besides this, they were also influenced by an array of different genres which was a perk of having grown up in the 90’s/00’s, “a time where genres were opening up and cross-pollinating. You could be a fan of vastly different artists at the same time. And bands were sort of creating their own unique, hard to classify sonic worlds – like Beck, Gorillaz, Muse and Radiohead. Music production technology has become exponentially more accessible too and I think that’s been a huge influence on us developing our sound”. A sound eminently contrasting to what they’d originally envisaged making.
Perhaps due to this, there is a diary-like element in listening to the evolution of their music, glimpsing past versions of their personalities in older songs. “You make music according to who you are in a moment and with what means and knowledge you have at that moment so there’s no sense in regretting anything. It’s a natural evolution. You learn as you go”. This can be heard in their maturing musical production and the varying nature of each song.
The cosmic musical calling was a subtle one for Evan Friedell, lead singer and guitarist for Jimkata, “It’s strange but I never felt like it was a deliberate choice. I started playing the guitar one day and this natural love of music found a way out. There’s definitely catharsis in making music and looking back at how I first started writing, I think it was a way to process some deeply complex and emotional aspects of life in some kind of coherent yet alchemistic way.” Through this, perhaps, the fans can see elements of themselves and their own struggles, something that makes this band and their music much more accessible to a wide audience.
Having just finished their US tour, they mention that the highlight of their career so far was the anticipation of playing again after both their hiatus and the pandemic, “especially with the isolation and struggle of the last couple years, the shows just feel much more meaningful and fun”. A humble band, Jimkata seem to be fan-oriented, revelling in the fans identifying with them and the reciprocal nature of live music.
