As a child, autumn was my favourite time of year. The horizon awash with amber hues, the streets paved with the gold of fallen leaves. Watching those leaves swept up in the swirling wind and imagining them dancing to my own whims and designs. When I grew older, discovering music as I went, the sound I began to most associate with autumn was that of Nick Drake. The intricate meanderings of his acoustic guitar and the bright tenderness of the piano evoking the swirl of leaves, yet with an undercurrent of melancholy that hits harder as you grow older and reckon with autumn being a time of unrelenting change and encroaching endings. I see that same melancholic fall vista conjured in Julia Logan’s ‘Moodswings’; in piano notes as cool as October rain, and folk guitar that weaves like the breeze through increasingly barren branches. Yet true to its name the song shifts in tone, rather than linger in wistfulness. In the sweetness of Julia’s vocals on the endearing chorus, and in the whimsical lilt of synths in the song’s latter half, I hear hints of the playful autumnal magic of my childhood, once forgotten, begin to peek through the cracks.
Author: James Fenney
Top Tracks: Jovin Webb – Bottom of a Bottle
The blues doesn’t concern itself with forging new paths or radical reinvention. “New” is anathema to the blues – and know that I say this with the utmost love and adoration. As a society we nailed the perfect blues sound early on, and from that point on every artist has carried the weight of tradition in their work, like a campfire story that lives on through generations of retelling. To play the blues is to walk down a well worn road, hitting all the familiar stops, and in doing so inviting comparison with all the greats who came before. ‘Bottom of a Bottle’ is proof enough for me that Jovin Webb can walk that road with his head held high. Taken from his debut album Drifter, out 18th October, it’s the perfect example of what makes the sound so enduring. Grounded by a shuffle as sturdy as an old oak, we’re treated to the soulful cries of guitar, the wails and warbles of harmonica, and the gravelly growl of Jovin himself as he seems to tear every last note from the depths of his very being. The blues isn’t about doing something new, it’s about doing the familiar so damn well that it feels like hearing it again for the first time.
Top Tracks: Rose Cousins – I Believe in Love (and it’s very hard)
Have you ever watched any behind the scenes studio footage which shows a songwriter at work piecing a new track together? It’s interesting getting to hear each individual instrument being recorded one by one. Each one a separate piece of a wider puzzle, and the true artistic vision doesn’t reveal itself until all the pieces are assembled and suddenly a song just springs into existence. Except, listening to ‘I Believe in Love (and it’s very hard)’, I don’t get that same impression of jigsaw pieces forming a picture. Hearing this new single from Canadian singer/songwriter Rose Cousins, I keep breaking it down into its constituent elements in my mind, and each piece feels like a work of art in its own right. The intricate expressive nuances of the drum work, the deep rumbling bass tone that you can feel in your gut, the bright and elegant piano playing lending so much presence and refinement, Rose’s heartfelt vocals channelling the golden age of singer/songwriters. Each component tells a beautiful story in of itself. ‘I Believe in Love’ is no jigsaw, it’s a collage taking existing works of art and using them to create a bigger picture.
Top Tracks: Hannah Grace – The Moon
Much of what I have to say about a piece of music depends on when it finds me. A sun-kissed Americana anthem may not feel as potent in the dead of winter, while a break-up ballad may resonate deeper in the wake of heartache. You need the right frame of mind, the right angle of approach, to experience a song at its best. Occasionally however you find songs like ‘The Moon’ which can be approached from a different perspective and suddenly take on a whole new meaning. This latest single from Belwood favourite Hannah Grace is a reassuring love letter to a friend in need; a reminder that you’re there to lean on even when it feels like life is spinning out of control. While it naturally connects with anyone seeking to comfort someone in need, it touches a very different part of your heart when you’re the one that’s struggling. When that anxious voice in the back of your mind insists that your loved ones aren’t as invested in you as you are in them, ‘The Moon’ becomes a soothing balm to quell the self doubt. With Hannah’s most tender and effortless vocals to date, ‘The Moon’ is equally moving whether its words are ones you long to share, or the ones you desperately needed to hear.
Album Review: Bent Knee – Twenty Pills Without Water
Album Review: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Wild God
Top Tracks: Luvcat – He’s My Man
I adore a good murder ballad. The sinister storytelling, carving out a clear identity for some villainous character, a wicked darkness that feeds the part of your brain that delights in morbid curiosity. It’s a time honoured tradition which nonetheless manages to feel underexplored; all the more reason to champion one of the rare shining examples when it strolls so magnetically into the spotlight. Having already begun to curate a seductively gothic sound with the sublime debut single ‘Matador’, Luvcat play to their strengths beautifully by weaving that same darkness into a bewitching murder ballad. With a soft western twang as rich and heady as a fine red wine backing up Sophie Morgan’s velveteen vocals, ‘He’s My Man’ tells the tale of of an obsessive housewife slowly poisoning her husband to ensure that he stays by her side forever. Whatever captivating concoction Luvcat have poured into this track has left me unable to leave its side also. Combining the fervent fanaticism of Annie Wilkes from Misery, with a beguiling air of twisted romanticism, ‘He’s My Man’ is a sterling sophomore outing for this entrancing ensemble.
Top Tracks: Fiona-Lee – Nothing Compares To Nineteen
It’s said that everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about – and all too often, it remains unknown. We struggle to find the words to describe what we’re feeling, are afraid to risk letting our defences down in the hope of finding a sympathetic ear, and wonder if anyone will truly understand the pain we’re feeling. Drawing a line between a conversation with her father about how “boys didn’t talk about feelings“, and the loss of a dear friend who took his own life, Fiona-Lee resolves to be open with her own struggles with anxiety and depression on her new single ‘Nothing Compares To Nineteen’. The track feels like a much needed and welcome push towards asking for help when you need it, rather than suffering in silence. Fiona’s frank and insightful lyricism manages to walk the line between being as intimate and confessional as a diary entry, while at the same time as real and down-to-earth as a conversation with a friend. All that is paired with emphatic drums and light breezy guitar work that spirals ever faster, ensuring her battles ring out loud and clear, and building more of that anthemic Sam Fender-esque sound that we’ve come to know and love.
Album Review: The Howl & The Hum – Same Mistake Twice
Half The World Awaits: Why the way we buy tickets need to change
I write this as I finally admit defeat, having spent – I’ve lost count of how many hours – trying to secure tickets for the big Oasis reunion tour. Half a day was spent queueing up for the opportunity to join the actual queue, and any progress made once reaching the front of it was frustratingly fleeting. It’s been a whistle-stop tour of Ticketmaster’s various error screens, from being suspended as a bot and having the whole site crash under the weight of overwhelming demand, to having to queue up all over again only to find prices had doubled for the few remaining tickets. At least something happened on Ticketmaster I suppose; that’s more than can be said for See Tickets and Gigs And Tours, whose sites didn’t even attempt to sell any actual tickets. I’m far from the only one left empty handed. It seems like half the country spent their day chasing tickets which proved to be rare as hen’s teeth. Yet at this moment the disappointment of missing out feels dwarfed by my frustration at the appalling rigmarole of Ticketmaster’s shambolic sale. Continue reading
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