Joanna McGowan sounds like she’s walking through a fog-enshrouded setting on her new single “Wasteland.” Ethereal melodies, hazy synths and minimalistic rhythms swirl around her incandescent voice until the tempo picks up giving the impression that McGowan is running through the fog to get free of the memories of a place that has changed beyond recognition but whose influence has left an indelible impression on her mind. One hears a tone of bittersweet affection for the “wasteland” of the song and she sings of feel of comfort in being there because it reminds her of how far she has come even if she’s experiencing a setback in life. Like going back to your hometown, which many of us think of as a cultural wasteland, or the environment in which you were raised after you’ve had a taste of something that nourishes your spirit a little more than the rustic familiarity of a place you’ve outgrown but which know all too well. The line “Nothing changes in the wasteland, time moves but the stillness remains” is telling because who hasn’t felt stuck somewhere in life only to go out into the bigger world in search of the stimulation you’re not getting where you came from? McGowan, though, in the song deftly explores the conflicted feelings while choosing liberation and giving those parts of the song the dramatic up-sweep in tempo and emotional richness. Listen to “Wasteland” on Spotify. The single is the first of four songs on McGowan’s forthcoming EP.
Youcancallmeoliver’s mysteriously named track “C+S+M” combines an understated yet urgent melodic arpeggio over textural beats and fluid, but distorted, bass accents. The layers of sound intertwine and evolve as the song progresses with the bass and the most minimal component of the percussion stay consistently voiced, dropping out mid-song for a bit of a high tone interlude and repeating figure like a passage out of a Rabies-period Skinny Puppy song modified and dropped in to add to the slightly haunted quality of the main melody. The whole piece suggests a journey and a transformation like if you could somehow be put through an assembly line process to tweak aspects of your mind and body to gently work out the ailments, injuries and neuroses that may be plaguing you for true deep relaxation to be possible—a complex but non-invasive procedure rediscovered from a past, hitherto unknown advanced civilization. The song also works as the intro music to a high tech spy movie for a sequence suggested in the previous scenario but where the lead figure undergoes a procedure to bring the mind and body in perfect sync for the mission ahead. The 007 franchise has been looking to change the starring role to be played by a woman rather than the men it’s been for around sixty years? This is a song for the opening scenes of that film. Listen to “C+S+M” on Soundcloud and follow youcancallmeoliver at the links below.
The bell tones that carry the melody on Calcou’s “Colors on Screen (featuring GRIP TIGHT)” bring a seemingly random and organic element to a steady, mathematical beat and paradoxically emotional robotic vocals. Like an A.I. contemplating the very fact of pixels on a screen and what went into making that happen and the concept of what informed the choice of those colors or, if not so chosen, the design behind making those patterns of color manifest as they do. Rather than take for granted that we can merely program a somewhat randomizing set of color sequences as in an old dynamic screensaver or use a computer to design visual art or even merely a flyer, the newly aware artificial intelligence expresses wonder at what is behind what humans might think of as calculated and mathematical on one level because to us it is but as humans sometimes wonder at what the primary forces behind existence and how it manifests and why, an intelligent being we designed by accident might wonder at similar things coming from an angle that can’t be our own. This song may not be about that but it would make a good soundtrack to a story about this happening and how artificial intelligences might not be homicidal robots destroying us for our inefficiency but beings of great empathy who share a wonder at existence and creativity in a way we could never have predicted. Listen to “Colors on Screen” on Soundcloud and follow Calcou at the links provided.
The texture of cello creating dynamic low end drones on “Girls,” the latest single from Iceland’s Manon, are like deep wells into which the milkily luminescent melodies on piano and vocals swirl and disappear into infinity. The song is about two girls trying to put out of their minds an experience that would leave its mark on their psyches for a lifetime the way an emotionally traumatic can haunt you with contemplating their meaning, even if there are no interpretations or answers that will ever satisfy you, seemingly endlessly. Manon sings of the romance of being curious and dangerous and a chance encounter on an adventure together. The strange and mysterious event is one worth sussing out for yourself but the classical sensibilities of Manon’s songwriting is reminiscent of the avant-garde pop stylings of Kate Bush whose own songwriting brings together musical elements in a way to craft personal myth enshrouded by evocative sounds that themselves stir the imagination. Though short, at two minutes twenty-two seconds, “Girls” feels like you’re getting a poignant sense memory of something Manon will never forget. Listen to “Girls” on Soundcloud and follow Manon at the links below.
The mellotron loop that runs throughout Best Mann’s single “MCO” keeps up back drop of dreamlike abstract melody upon which songwriter and producer Nate Mondschein places percussion, bass, minimal guitar and a story of some people’s tendency to need to have one’s romantic experiences and relationships to be like something out of a movie and overdoing everything in a way that could never be sustained by mere mortals long term. And the expectations placed on oneself and others that puts undue pressure on the association before it can really start or solidify and work to erode it from the start with the heaviness of it all. Everyone wants their love relationships to be imbued with some magic and passion but life isn’t always peak moments and if we let in some breathing room we might have more of that if we don’t always expect it of ourselves and our loved ones. Or out of any situation in life. The down times and those times we might think of as boring or dull are as important to our psychology as those that are the opposite. Joseph Campbell might have implied something like that in The Hero With a Thousand Faces. At any rate, the lush atmospheres and slow dynamic wave of the song is a recognition of this reality and attempt to honor the impulse of connection without shame as well as the human emotional limitations that often go unacknowledged. Best Mann’s new album …And the Sky is due out on October 25, 2019. Listen to “MCO” on Soundcloud and follow Best Mann at the links below.
There are examples aplenty of the negative and destructive side of humanity in the world. But Caoilfhionn Rose’s “Being Human” is a song that puts the focus on the appreciation for the people who enhance and nourish our lives in everyday often small ways. The video for the song was filmed at Fletcher Moss Park in Manchester, England at a time of day when the sun is on the horizon and casting a soft, nostalgic light with some lens flare visible in the shot on the proceedings but it suits the tone of the song that is one about the songwriter letting the people in her life that she likes being human with them and all that entails that is unique and valuable and beautiful about the experience if you’re able step away back and see yourself and the people around you from an expanded perspective. Rose doesn’t seem to romanticize so much as shine a light on the fragility of existence and the necessity of expressing your appreciation of people for who and what they are, flaws and all. The gentle, intricate melody of the song and Rose’s versatile and warm vocals give the sentiment of the song a refreshing authenticity that is much more effective than scolding people to be better and care for one another. Watch the video on YouTube and follow Caoilfhionn Rose at the links below.
“Nvr Loved U” by Father Sheed sounds like something put together inspired by checking your voicemail on an elevator ride up a tall office building and then later a train ride through late night rain, your face illuminated by your mobile device and refractions of light from sources nearby but indistinct. The voice message is of someone breaking up with you as gently as they can without leaving some painful hint that maybe you can patch things up. There’s no easy way to say you’re breaking up with someone but the voice in this song seems to make it not sound cruel. The arc of melody and percussive tones over the steady beat conveys a deep sense of isolation even given being in a big city with thousands if not millions of people. But the paradoxical sense of space and intimacy that this song captures makes that isolation seem almost comfortable. The title of the song suggests a realization either on the part of the woman leaving the message or the person listening to it but it also more than hints that the break is for good without the messiness of one of those dramatic partings that make some people think the relationship must have meant something. This song sounds like a breakup without the drama imbued with a sense of acceptance. Listen to “Nvr Loved U” on Soundcloud and follow Father Sheed on the Spotify account.
the Rec “(I don’t understand) town slang” cover (cropped)
When you’re away from where you grew up for a sufficiently long period of time and outside the contexts that reared you and on to something that makes more sense for the life you want or when circumstances force you onward, sometimes going back is an odd and alien experience because you’re forced to confront the fact that what is considered normal and acceptable is often contingent on context and not universal down to the local patois. UK group the Rec explores this phenomenon regarding the town in which they grew up, Oswestry in Shropshire located on the border between England and Wales, on the song “(I don’t understand) town slang.” The members of the band moved away from Oswestry in the 1980s and one can only imagine the culture shock when maybe you’ve been somewhere that isn’t trapped a little in the past or maybe a little culturally hermetic.
The story set to a dynamic beat with a surreal melody of shimmery synths and psychedelic keyboards like a post-punk song reminiscent of Sleaford Mods and its own vocal cadence and tone. The vocalist sings of having spent half a day driving to town and then crossing “the line into the alien zone” and running into blank expressions and thousand yard stares when he spoke because he wasn’t speaking in a way that made a lot of sense to the locals. Isn’t this his hometown? Then he escapes the situation and tries to find his brother’s place but getting lost and in fear of more encounters with people speaking “town slang,” some of which echoes in a chaotic, jumbled fashion that comes at you from all angles before the main melody of the song reasserts itself. The chorus about town slang making the singer feel “uncomfortable” might suggest some of this slang seems regressive the way some people use expressions and words so casually and unmindful that the rest of the world has moved on. The song ends with the singer relating how he went to the “taxi rank” to get some gas and then to drive as fast as possible to get to “a place that I can understand.” In a way the song is like a miniature horror story. Like the movie Get Out where you know something’s wrong but instead of the scenario in that movie it’s a culture you can no longer relate to and where you will never again fit in even if you try down to the local slang. It’s the classic you can never really go home story but told with a wry humor paired with a transporting electro post-punk melody that evolves throughout the song and on its own helps to keep your attention focused on the story and its mixing in keen local details and references. The song also seems to hint that sometimes you are stuck in that situation but aware that you don’t belong but the people in the Rec understand. Fans of the Happy Mondays and the aforementioned Sleaford Mods will find much to like here. Listen to the song below and follow the Rec at the links below.
The sound of distant conversation and equally distant saxophone float in the minimal beat and synth drone like the haze of an underground speakeasy. Or you’re standing on the deck of a cruise ship alone at night as the boat hits a mild bank of fog with the sounds of other human activity indistinct but oddly comforting so that you know you can’t quite let your imagination let you fantasize for a moment about being on ghost ship. As you stand there and take in the vision of the light fog floating past the ship and over the ocean it strikes you that this is as close as you’re going to get from the hustle and bustle of everyday life because there’s nowhere to go to distract yourself from contemplating what it’s all about. But you come to no real conclusions because you don’t have to solve the world’s problems, as if you could do that alone anyway, and you didn’t arrange to go on this vacation to focus on the demands of your life like you normally would. So you accept that these neurotic impulses can be put to rest and you can come to just accept that having the luxury of taking in the view and taking on its tranquility is as perfect a moment as you’ll get, a Zen epiphany. We’ve been talking about UK downtempo project Castle1’s track “Eye On The Ocean” which you can listen to on Soundcloud and follow Castle1 at any of the links below. The new EP from which “Eye On The Ocean” is taken was released on Bandcamp and Soundcloud as a free download.
“Speed And Chaos” sounds like Dr. LaFlow practiced for composing the track by having a few computers listening to different internet radio stations and took note of whatever sounded interesting and fit an overarching theme he had in mind and later dreamed up a rap to fit the resultant sonic puzzle pieces he had assembled. Apparently he came up with the lyrics while restocking the cooler during his gravyard shift at CVS. Which is how a lot of great creative ideas come together—while we let or imaginations roam as we do mundane work at mundane jobs rather than focus on a task that takes so little of our focus. Dr. LaFlow came up with some choice surreal one-liners like “Smoke so loud I woke the neighbors,” “Popeye’s over Colonel Sanders,” and “No days off until I’m faded” and arranged them in stream of consciousness style in a song with a sample that sounds like something from a Betty Boop cartoon and somehow it all makes sense. Like you need to keep your mind working the nights and it takes whatever can stimulate it in the moment because it sure isn’t the canned music or the fluorescent lights and not often enough the scintillating late night conversation of your co-workers. This song is so relatable in its lines about staying motivated and thinking about what the money from this work will get you in order to be where you want to rather than get stuck in the drudgery of the moment. Working late nights is a completely different vibe and energy from the daytime world and Dr. LaFlow has captured that in the mood and pace of “Speed And Chaos.” You go into work when it’s dark, you come out when it’s light, it disorients your perspective, you go in when the world is working at a slow pace and coming out of work when it’s ramping up or up to full speed. It stretches your psyche and forces it to work in various modes and to adapt in ways that not everyone will ever know. Listen to the song on Soundcloud and follow Dr. LaFlow at the links below.
Queen City Sounds and Art 
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