Different forms of media are better suited at evoking certain emotions. Sometimes a particular indescribable sensation arises that is almost complete unique to a specific art form. Cinema has an uncanny way of capturing these obscure emotions that we can’t quite put our fingers on, one of which is the melding of bliss and sorrow. Moments that break you and bring a tear to your eye every time, yet also so beautiful and fulfilling that it keeps bringing you back for more. Pixar are the masters at this; like saying goodbye to fading friends in Inside Out, or the remembering of lost loved ones at the end of Coco. Though it’s a phenomenon best suited to cinema, there are some rare moments where music alone can capture the same feeling, and few examples come closer than White Seasons.
Though the new EP from LA based duo Night Market is drenched in heartwarming melodies, there’s an underlying sadness that surreptitiously seeps its way through like subliminal messaging. Listening to this EP is like remembering the good times you had with someone that’s no longer a part of your life, finding joy in the sadness and sadness in the joy. A big part of its power lies in the guitar work, which is some of the finest you’ll find this year. Not by being flashy or complex, but by just hitting the right tone that resonates with you deep down. Whether its in the lush Americana of the title track, the bright folk of ‘All Eyes’, or the jaunty ‘Rome’ with its bluesy solo, Night Market really know how to strike a chord with you with this latest release.
Fans of Death Cab for Cutie, Wild Pink and Sufjan Stevens should check out Night Market’s new EP White Seasons, out now.
Sometimes the greatest artistic endeavours can come from self restraint. Instead of endless ambition where anything goes, rather challenge yourself by setting boundaries and push them to their absolute limit. That’s the impression I take away from Parasols, the debut EP from Germany’s Floral Shop. As charming as the synthpop aesthetic is, it doesn’t leave much scope to experiment. That hasn’t stopped this quartet from tackling the idea as well as, if not better, than any other examples I’ve heard. They have their own unique way of reaching outside their stylistic circle for inspiration without fully stepping over the threshold.
Time was that an artist would (understandably) try to make their mark on the world with their debut album. These days however things are a bit different. A first album is something that artists now build towards. It comes after building a buzz and a following with a series of singles and EPs. Now artists try and make their mark with their first EP, which can present much more of a challenge. Instead of summing up who you are, what you do, and what you’re capable of across a dozen tracks, they’re now forced to do the same with only a handful at their disposal.
These days folk just seems synonymous with “acoustic”. Often all that links various folk acts is the use of a simplified, stripped-back arrangement. Not to say that’s a bad thing, we love modern folk, but at the same time it could be so much more. It could connect with its roots, in tales and tunes passed down through generations, or it could look forward and push the genre into more exploratory forms. Barcelona born singer-songwriter Jane Silver manages to do a bit of both on her debut EP Wooden Fortress.
EPs are the weapon of choice for bands looking to put their name out there and make people sit up and pay attention, and for the ideal example of one done right look no further than I Can Fool Anybody in This Town. LIILY have not only made a real front-runner for our EP of the year, but it’s also one of the most convincing mission statements from a new band that you’re ever likely to hear. With their first EP this group of teenagers from LA have struck the perfect balance between passion and precision. It’s wild and fierce, yet never misses the mark, the musical equivalent of an apex predator.
One of the things that makes a good album is when it feels like a collection of songs that belong together. They each serve a purpose and come together to tell a story or take a snapshot of a certain space and time. It’s rare that you get this with EPs, they are usually just a few singles thrown together, which is one of the reasons that MAVICA’s debut EP stood out. Gone, while not expressly telling the story of the singer/songwriter moving to London from her hometown in Spain, does a great job at capturing the feeling of leaving your life behind. ‘Friethers’ is sure to resonate with anyone feeling lost and alone, and boasts the record’s most expressive percussion and synth work, while the melancholic guitar and wistful vocals of ‘Fire’ recalls a mix of Snail Mail and Isaac Gracie. ‘Plastic Heart’ is MAVICA’s most overtly pop affair with a fabulous hook that will stay with you all day, while ‘To Lie Alone’ is the record’s most complete package. Its soothing folk drifts by like a summer breeze, building to a powerful emotional climax, before settling back to where it began. It’s like watching the sunrise when the whole world is still, then having the day rush by in front of your eyes, only to watch the sun set again as the calm returns.
Any music fan will tell you that nothing compares to the feeling of hearing a song that just stops you in your tracks. Being so enthralled by a piece of music that your only thought is “what is this and where can I find more?”. That was the process I went through upon hearing the debut single from New York duo Guns For Gold, and I get the feeling their debut EP will evoke the same reaction from many more people. Electronic producer Alex Siesse and singer/songwriter Wes Hutchinson may have once been a part of very different musical circles, but you would never have guessed so from the way that all the different elements fit together perfectly like the cogs of some grand golden machine. ‘Loaded’ lurks within an understated ambience and periodically bursts forth with its triumphant chorus, before disappearing back beneath the surface to leave calm waters once more. ‘So Natural’ offers up some great piano driven pop melodies, while mixing things up with some interesting percussion. And of course the slow-burning powerhouse that is ‘
In trying to be cool you just succeed in getting further away from it. Some of the coolest people I’ve met probably have no idea that they’re cool. It’s not about copying someone else’s example, it’s about soaking up their influence and doing it your way. It’s not about trying to tick boxes, you just need to be confident about doing your own thing. London’s Cocoa Futures do just that with their latest EP Recovery. There are plenty of elements within that capture the zeitgeist of the indie and pop scenes in recent years, but at no point does it feel forced or insincere in doing so. The effervescent bass line and punchy percussion of ‘Sink In The Water’ cuts through the otherwise downcast feel of the synth and vocals, like the one person content to stroll along and admire the city lights on a rainy night when everyone else is rushing around with their head down. The demented funk of the title track is reminiscent of St Vincent at her best and feels like a glimpse into an alternate reality where disco still rules supreme. Closing track Big Time starts with a stripped back indie pop feel before a slick solo cuts through the calm to end the record on a high.
I like fancy production and impressive musicianship as much as the next person, but they aren’t necessary to make a great song. One of the best measures of what makes a song great is whether it moves you, whether you can connect with it, and for that all you need is a message to share and to sing it out with all your heart. London based artist Keeva does just that with her debut EP. Carrying all the charm and soul of classic Motown, with all the excess stripped away to leave something more delicate and vulnerable, this wonderfully understated release is about as honest and authentic as they come. While most records are like oil paintings, building up layer by layer, this is more like a watercolour, needing only a tiny drop of colour to fill the blank space. From the sparse piano of ‘Pieces’, to the gentle fingerpicking of ‘How Do I Tell You’, the music provides the barest framework for Keeva’s soulful and sorrowful vocals. Her voice is one of the best you’ll hear in 2018, and it is given plenty of chance to shine. The EP carries a timeless feel, a break-up record for the ages, proving that sometimes less is more.
Belwood Music 