Les Inrocks' 100 Best Albums of 2019
Des nouveaux artistes qui sortent des premières pépites, des plus anciens qui perdurent et parfois même se bonifient, des genres qui se diversifient… En 2019, la musique a conservé toute sa richesse. Alors sans plus attendre, voici nos 100 albums coups de cœur de l'année.
Published: December 11, 2019 09:29
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The third album from the LA-based master of timeless acoustic folk is an exercise in restraint. Yet despite its minimalism, there\'s emotional heft: While her 2015 album *On Your Own Love Again* followed the passing of her mother, the end of a relationship, and her upheaval from San Francisco to LA, these songs deal with her putting off a return to San Francisco after falling in love with musician Matthew McDermott (who plays piano on the opener here). The nine songs are compact and rooted in Pratt\'s voice, evoking 1960s French yé-yé singers or Nico, as the chamber pop of short numbers like “Fare Thee Well” and “As The World Turns” lulls with gentle flutes and soft strings. It\'s an intimacy that\'s distinct from any of her singer-songwriter peers, veiled behind a sense of old-fashioned mystique.
For her third album Quiet Signs, Jessica Pratt offers up nine spare, beautiful & mysterious songs that feel like the culmination of her work to date. "Fare Thee Well" and "Poly Blue" retain glimmers of On Your Own Love Again's hazy day spells, but delicate arrangements for piano, flute, organ and strings instill a lush, chamber pop vim. The record's B-side, meanwhile, glows with an arresting late-night clarity; the first single, "This Time Around," pairs the Los Angeles artist's intimate vulnerability with a newfound resolve. Ultimately, this confidence is what sets Quiet Signs apart from Pratt's previous work, the journey of an artist stepping out of the darkened wings to take her place as one of this generation's preeminent songwriters.
“It was baby steps—we didn’t say, hey, we’re going to make an album or go on tour,” The Raconteurs co-frontman Jack White explains to Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “We just thought, let’s get together and record a couple of songs and see how that goes.” The time felt right for White and Brendan Benson to reconnect following a series of jam sessions with drummer Patrick Keeler, something they hadn’t done in over a decade due to their commitments to other projects. During that time, White pursued his solo career and formed The Dead Weather with Raconteurs bassist Jack Lawrence, all while running Third Man Records; Benson launched his own record label and released 2012’s *What Kind of World* and 2013’s *You Were Right*. Though their third album touches on the power-pop stomp of *Broken Boy Soldiers* and the country-folk of *Consolers of the Lonely*, the band now seems to have one mission in mind: Play some good ol’ fashioned classic rock that pays homage to their musical roots. White and Benson are both based in Nashville now, but their native Michigan is never far from their hearts. “Well, I’m Detroit born and raised/But these days, I’m living with another,” White and Benson harmonize on the single “Bored and Razed.” The guitars nod to pioneering Michigan bands like Grand Funk Railroad and The Amboy Dukes, while the scuzzy, frantic Stooges-like garage rock of “Don’t Bother Me” features White, unsurprisingly, imploring you to put down your damn phone. But *Help Us Stranger* is not just strut and swagger: From reflective folk rock (“Only Child”) and piano balladry (“Shine the Light on Me”) to heartbreaking blues (“Now That You’re Gone”), White and Benson keep it fresh with their engaging, mood-shifting songwriting. They sound like they’re genuinely having fun, happy that they’re still together after all these years. “We played a show in London with The Strokes, and what struck me was, \'Ah, it’s so great to see any band have the original members they started with even three years later, let alone 15, 20 years later,\'” says White. “Everyone’s for the same goal of trying to make some sort of music happen that didn’t exist before. But the proof is, those same people are in the room together.”
Sometimes an album just names itself. “We were in the studio and reading the local news in Nashville,” The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach told Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “They executed the first prisoner in 16 years in Nashville the week we were recording. They asked for his final words and he said, ‘Let’s rock.’” There isn’t a lot of overthinking on The Black Keys’ first new record in five years. It’s the sound of the duo kicking out the jams in Nashville. Topics of escape and confusion are seeded in Auerbach’s dueling guitar overlays and propped up by Patrick Carney’s steady hands. Songs recall the joy of traveling up and down a transistor radio dial in the ’70s; there are nods to Stealers Wheel (“Sit Around and Miss You”) and The Amboy Dukes (“Every Little Thing”), as well as dips into glam and Texas boogie-woogie. Carney digs for “When the Levee Breaks” bedrock on “Go.” Then “Lo/Hi,” “Fire Walk With Me,” and “Get Yourself Together” are classic Black Keys, complete with strutting backbeat and Leisa Hans and Ashley Wilcoxson’s backup vocals, which are so key to their chemistry and continuity.
Few songwriters have Bill Callahan’s eye for wry detail: “Like motel curtains, we never really met,” the singer-songwriter declares on “Angela,” using his weather-worn baritone. On his first studio album in five years—an unusually long gap for Callahan—one of the enduring voices in alternative music continues to pare back the extraneous in his sound. A noise musician and mighty mumbler when he broke through under the moniker of Smog in the early 1990s, Callahan now favors minimal indie-folk brushstrokes such as a guitar strum, a sighing pedal steel guitar, or simply barely audible room ambience. The 20 songs here insinuate themselves with bittersweet melodies and a conversational tone, and they’re a strong reminder of Callahan\'s dry sense of humor: “The panic room is now a nursery,” the recently married new father sings on “Son of the Sea.” But if he’s comparatively settled in life, Callahan still knows how to hit an unnerving note with a matter-of-fact ease.
The voice murmuring in our ear, with shaggy-dog and other kinds of stories, is an old friend we're so glad to hear again. Bill’s gentle, spacey take on folk and roots music is like no other; scraps of imagery, melody and instrumentation tumble suddenly together in moments of true human encounters.
“It feels right that our fourth album is not 10, 11 songs,” Vampire Weekend frontman Ezra Koenig explains on his Beats 1 show *Time Crisis*, laying out the reasoning behind the 18-track breadth of his band\'s first album in six years. “It felt like it needed more room.” The double album—which Koenig considers less akin to the stylistic variety of The Beatles\' White Album and closer to the narrative and thematic cohesion of Bruce Springsteen\'s *The River*—also introduces some personnel changes. Founding member Rostam Batmanglij contributes to a couple of tracks but is no longer in the band, while Haim\'s Danielle Haim and The Internet\'s Steve Lacy are among the guests who play on multiple songs here. The result is decidedly looser and more sprawling than previous Vampire Weekend records, which Koenig feels is an apt way to return after a long hiatus. “After six years gone, it\'s a bigger statement.” Here Koenig unpacks some of *Father of the Bride*\'s key tracks. **\"Hold You Now\" (feat. Danielle Haim)** “From pretty early on, I had a feeling that\'d be a good track one. I like that it opens with just acoustic guitar and vocals, which I thought is such a weird way to open a Vampire Weekend record. I always knew that there should be three duets spread out around the album, and I always knew I wanted them to be with the same person. Thank God it ended up being with Danielle. I wouldn\'t really call them country, but clearly they\'re indebted to classic country-duet songwriting.” **\"Rich Man\"** “I actually remember when I first started writing that; it was when we were at the Grammys for \[2013\'s\] *Modern Vampires of the City*. Sometimes you work so hard to come up with ideas, and you\'re down in the mines just trying to come up with stuff. Then other times you\'re just about to leave, you listen to something, you come up with a little idea. On this long album, with songs like this and \'Big Blue,\' they\'re like these short-story songs—they\'re moments. I just thought there\'s something funny about the narrator of the song being like, \'It\'s so hard to find one rich man in town with a satisfied mind. But I am the one.\' It\'s the trippiest song on the album.” **\"Married in a Gold Rush\" (feat. Danielle Haim)** “I played this song for a couple of people, and some were like, \'Oh, that\'s your country song?\' And I swear, we pulled our hair out trying to make sure the song didn\'t sound too country. Once you get past some of the imagery—midnight train, whatever—that\'s not really what it\'s about. The story is underneath it.” **\"Sympathy”** “That\'s the most metal Vampire Weekend\'s ever gotten with the double bass drum pedal.” **\"Sunflower\" (feat. Steve Lacy)** “I\'ve been critical of certain references people throw at this record. But if people want to say this sounds a little like Phish, I\'m with that.” **\"We Belong Together\" (feat. Danielle Haim)** “That\'s kind of two different songs that came together, as is often the case of Vampire Weekend. We had this old demo that started with programmed drums and Rostam having that 12-string. I always wanted to do a song that was insanely simple, that was just listing things that go together. So I\'d sit at the piano and go, \'We go together like pots and pans, surf and sand, bottles and cans.\' Then we mashed them up. It\'s probably the most wholesome Vampire Weekend song.”
U.F.O.F., F standing for ‘Friend’, is the name of the highly anticipated third record by Big Thief, set to be released on 3rd May 2019 via 4AD. U.F.O.F. was recorded in rural western Washington at Bear Creek Studios. In a large cabin-like room, the band set up their gear to track live with engineer Dom Monks and producer Andrew Sarlo, who was also behind their previous albums. Having already lived these songs on tour, they were relaxed and ready to experiment. The raw material came quickly. Some songs were written only hours before recording and stretched out instantly, first take, vocals and all. “Making friends with the unknown… All my songs are about this,” says Lenker; “If the nature of life is change and impermanence, I’d rather be uncomfortably awake in that truth than lost in denial.”
Making a debut album was a bruising experience for Dublin post-punk quintet The Murder Capital. “I didn’t know you could experience such a range of emotions in a day, every day,” singer James McGovern tells Apple Music. “I could feel utter despair, thinking that it was just not going to happen, it’s completely run ruin and it’s gone. Then, 20 minutes later, it’s genius and some new thing comes in and it’s just an overwhelming experience.” Recorded in London with storied producer Flood, *When I Have Fears* is as stirring to listen to as it was to make. Twisting through emotions that run from throbbing-temple rage to tender reflection, it’s an absorbing account of, among other things, isolation, grief, and a fading sense of community. Here, in a track-by-track guide, McGovern recalls the sleepy boat trips, stunned silences, and angry farmers that helped create the album. **“For Everything”** “This ended up being the opener because it feels very cinematic and we are all cinephiles. Also, the opening lyric seems, for me, like the right initial imprint on the floor. I wanted to go away on my own, so I looked for the cheapest flight I could find and went to Oslo—without looking at the price of stuff in Oslo. So I got this hostel for five nights and ate very rarely. I went around writing. I deleted everything off my phone and left. I left the world for five days, which was unbelievable. I went on a boat trip with some fjords and wrote it on that—there are a lot of little references to things I saw. I wrote a quick poem and then fell asleep for the entire boat trip that I paid 40 quid on.” **“More Is Less”** “In that incubation period in the very beginning \[of the band\], everything was just getting thrown in so quickly. If we played two shows a month, there might have been three or four new tracks in each show. I think ‘More Is Less’ was the first time we were like, ‘Oh, we’ll keep this.’ It sounds like it was written in a time of urgency, like I was fed up with something. I think your environment, politically and socially, naturally bleeds into you. It affects your mood and your view of yourself and the world. Even though it wasn’t that long ago, I feel like it was really naive at the time—but in a beautiful way.” **“Green & Blue”** “We were going through a pretty heavy drought in the writing room. I saw an article about \[American photographer\] Francesca Woodman and showed it to the boys. Everyone was hit in the chest by it, maybe even moist at the eye. There was something so alive about the way she depicted isolation. And something going through the record is this idea of isolation within a community, or the absence of fear giving love and the absence of love giving fear. We watched her documentary and the next day ‘Green & Blue’ just fell out.” **“Slowdance I”** “We got this cheap Airbnb in Mayo to finish writing. We actually had to move because a farmer threatened to shoot us for the noise. But in that first house, we wrote ‘Slowdance I,’ ‘Slowdance II,’ ‘Don’t Cling to Life,’ and something else. We were going in to record on March 2 and we went into that house on January 2, so that’s how up against the ropes we were. ‘Slowdance I’ came together over that bassline. We were fighting against keeping it at that tempo, going, ‘Don’t speed up, don\'t speed up.’ It was like pulling a rope at a mooring—it’s not giving way. We thought, ‘Maybe this is the way it should stay.’” **“Slowdance II”** “Part II was being written as a different idea. I named it that day, and then it very much became its own thing. Giving it that name became a visualization thing for us, imagining people moving to this track, that flow of the body. We love the idea of having something that just flows into the next thing. It just became this lotus flower or this opus. Lyrically, it became about disassociation somehow.” **“On Twisted Ground”** “My best friend took his own life and I couldn’t write about it for ages. When you’re writing about something so overtly personal, you can’t let anything go. It just has to be perfect. It was one of the hardest nuts to crack in the studio. Eventually, Cathal, our guitarist, just said, ‘Fuck everything: James and Gabriel \[bassist\] go in that room and play it alone.’ Immediately after we played it back, there was this crazy five minutes of silence. It was just so intense, like it was vibrating through you. Flood said he had never experienced anything like it in the studio before. Then we had this chat about how personal grief feels, and how hard done by you feel by it because your love for that person and their love for you is specific to you. No one else had that. It’s not a thing that gets better or worse or this bullshit of ‘it gets easier after time.’ You’re just like, ’I’m trying to fill my space with more positive things around that hole that will be there forever.’” **“Feeling Fades”** “We played the Sound House in Dublin. I came off the stage, went for a cigarette in the smoking area, and just started writing this poem to occupy the mind, because the feeling you get after getting offstage is weird. That’s reflected somewhat in the lyrics. It was also wondering if our generation is being robbed of a sense of community by whatever this natural evolution of technology and society is. I don’t want to be stuck in the past, but it feels like that sense of togetherness, that knocking over to a friend’s house, you have to *talk about* it now for it to exist. Humans still love each other just as much and are trying to understand each other better than ever, but something about the disassociative nature of technology is sort of harrowing. I just wanna hang out with people, you know?” **“Don’t Cling to Life”** “Gabriel’s mum became severely unwell, and she actually passed away within the first two weeks of recording. While this was going on, we discussed that idea of songs like ‘Perfect Day’ or ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart,’ where it sounds happy but it’s completely not. Gabriel came into the house \[in Mayo\] and he was like, ‘Let’s just write something we can dance to.’ It was quite a tough nut to crack because it was veering more to the pop side of things than to anything we had written before. I like the possibility it gives you for juxtaposition: It doesn’t have to be really dark, it can be really hopeful as well—it just depends which way you play the words in your mind. You can go to it for anything.” **“How the Streets Adore Me Now”** “That was one that wasn’t written \[before going into the studio\]. Cathal had this droning, repeated piano idea. He was playing it on an old upright, and I remember just flicking through my journal and finding this poem. I sat in next to him and we figured it out and had it recorded within an hour. When we listened back, we were all like, ‘Holy fucking shit.’ Flood was like, ‘You’re not going to touch that.’ I think it is my favorite song.” **“Love, Love, Love”** “We decided, pretty quickly, that this was going to close the record. It was very important for us to have that. It was imperative that there was a narrative, there was a feeling of where do we bring you now and where do we go next and how are you left and are you being challenged? We look to people like Alexander McQueen, who said, ‘If you aren\'t affected by my show, then I haven\'t done my job.’ Sometimes music or art or theater should be making you uncomfortable. It should be confronting you with something, then almost immediately comforting you and all those things. ‘Love, Love, Love,’ I find, does that. It’s also satisfying to finish an album saying, ‘Goodbye, goodbye.’”
Steve Lacy snapped on this one. The guitarist/bassist of The Internet (and acclaimed producer for Solange and J. Cole, as well as featured collaborator on Vampire Weekend\'s *Father of the Bride*) presents a kaleidoscopic tour of funk and R&B styles on his debut solo album *Apollo XXI*. The sound and drive heard on the album are deeply indebted to the freaky early days of Prince Rogers Nelson, from the way Lacy stylizes song titles (“Love 2 Fast,” “N Side,” “4ever”) to his voice, which ranges from growly lows to pleading, teasing falsetto. “Guide” has *Dirty Mind* on its mind, while “Playground” jumps on the one with funk guitar and slap bass. The nine-minute shape-shifter “Like Me” sparkles with psychedelic touches, as if he’s hitched a ride on the P-Funk mothership. On “Lay Me Down,” Lacy masters the art of patient seduction, taking his time to do it right, while “Basement Jack” and “Hate CD” feel like something Frank Ocean would ride to. Sprinkled among these gems are spontaneous bursts of creativity like “Amandla’s Interlude” and “Outro Freestyle/4ever,” which show Lacy exploring the outer limits of expression and spirituality.
“We’ve never really had anyone say to us, ‘All right, this song is good but we should try to push it to another level,’” Hot Chip’s Joe Goddard tells Apple Music. Seven albums deep, the band—Goddard, Alexis Taylor, Al Doyle, Owen Clarke, and Felix Martin—decided to reach new levels by working with producers for the first time, drafting in Rodaidh McDonald (The xx, Sampha) and the late French touch prime mover Philippe Zdar. “They didn\'t really ask us to do anything mega crazy, but there were moments when they challenged us and pushed us out of our comfort zone, which was really healthy and good,” says Goddard. *A Bath Full of Ecstasy* handsomely vindicates the decision to solicit external opinion. Rather than abandon their winning synthesis of pop melodies, melancholy, and the sparkle of club music, the band has finessed it into their brightest, sharpest album yet. And they got there with the help of Katy Perry, hot sauce, and Taylor’s mother-in-law—discover how with their track-by-track guide. **“Melody of Love”** Alexis Taylor: “It’s about submitting to sound, and finding optimism within its abstract beauty. It’s about the personal as well as the more universal problems being faced by individuals, and overcoming those; it’s about connecting to something that resonates with you.” Joe Goddard: “I was initially imagining I would put it out without vocals on, without there really being a song. But I found this sample from a gospel track by The Mighty Clouds of Joy, and Alexis responded to the music very quickly and wrote these great words. Rodaidh is a very focused person, a bit like the T-1000, and was like, ‘OK, guys, we’re going to do this, this, this, this, this.’ And he cut it right down, which was a really good suggestion.” **“Spell”** AT: “This is a seduction song, but it’s not entirely clear who is in the driving seat, who has the upper hand, who holds the whip…” JG: “Alexis’ songwriting and lyrics are fantastic, but he is such an enormous lover of Prince, I felt like there would be places that he could go that would be slightly more sensual, sexual. And that he would really excel at it. But I don’t think it comes naturally to him. Then we were asked to do a few days in the studio with Katy Perry. We wrote a bunch of short demo ideas to play to her, and the beginning of ‘Spell’ was one of those. I think for Alexis, imagining writing something for her was quite freeing.” **“Bath Full of Ecstasy”** AT: “‘Bath Full of Ecstasy’ is a side-scrolling platform game in which the player takes control of one of the five band members on a quest to save the kingdom. A curse has ravaged the kingdom and eradicated all joy from the land, and the townsfolk and villagers can no longer see colors or hear music. With the help of the Bubble Bath Fairy, a magical microphone, and some friendly strangers along the way, the band must embark on a quest through five exciting worlds on a mission to find the secret source that will break the curse.” **“Echo”** JG: “The demo was another one that we wrote for the Katy Perry sessions. We were trying to do something a bit Neptunes-y, a bit Pharrell—quite simple hip-hop-y bassline and drums. Lyrically it deals with letting go of your past.” AT: “It was originally called ‘Hot Sauce’ and was written about my favorite hot sauce, made by my friend, the steel-pan legend Fimber Bravo.” Al Doyle: “This was Philippe bringing to the pool his concept of ‘air,’ putting in huge gaps and spaces and really reducing the sonic palette of the song—to the point where you’re almost like, ‘Oh wow, this is actually almost too sparse.’ But what is there is extremely powerful and crafted and razor-sharp.” **“Hungry Child”** JG: “It’s all about this real longing, obsessional kind of love—unrequited. Obviously, a classic subject for soul and disco music, and I was really channeling that. I love disco records that do that; I think there’s a real special power to them. And in Jamie Principle, Frankie Knuckles, that brilliant deep house classic Round Two, ‘New Day,’ you get this obsessional, dark love stuff as well.” AT: “I mainly played Mellotron and wrote the chorus—about things which are momentary but somehow affect you forever.” **“Positive”** AT: “The song talks about perceptions of homelessness, illness, the need for community, kind gestures or lack of, information, love. It’s a heartbreak song with those subjects and a fantasy relationship at the core.” JG: “It features this Eurorack synth stuff very heavily, which is screamingly modern-sounding.” **“Why Does My Mind”** AT: “A song written on Alex Chilton’s guitar, lent to me by Jason McPhail \[of Glasgow band V-Twin\], about the perplexing way in which my mind works.” **“Clear Blue Skies”** JG: “Once a record is 70 percent done, you’re thinking about how to complement the music that you already have. So we wanted to have a more gentle, drum-machine-led thing. I was really also inspired by ‘St. Elmo’s Fire’ by Brian Eno, which has that feel. I find it really difficult, with the size of the universe, trying to find that meaning in small things. I find that really problematic sometimes—that’s the meaning of the song.” **“No God”** AT: “A love song, written with my mother-in-law in mind as the singer, for a TV talent show contest, but never delivered to her, and instead turned into a euphoric song about love for a person rather than God, or light.” JG: “The chorus and the verse are very, very simple pop music. It reminded us of ABBA at one point. We struggled to find a production that was interesting, that had the right balance of strangeness and poppiness. It reminds me a bit of Andrew Weatherall and Primal Scream, that kind of balearic house thing.” Owen Clarke: “It went reggae for a bit. It had a techno moment as well.”
Nérija is Nubya Garcia (tenor saxophone), Sheila Maurice-Grey (trumpet), Cassie Kinoshi (alto saxophone), Rosie Turton (trombone), Shirley Tetteh (guitar), Lizy Exell (drums) and Rio Kai (bass). Blume is a truly breath-taking collection of compositions that perfectly encapsulates everything Nérija. Vibrant, engaging, infectious and truly current, Blume takes you on a sprawling wonderful journey, arriving at what is a majestic body of work of their personal and collective experiences and inspirations over the last half decade or so.
Sean's second solo album in 30 years reflects the bold new sounds of today embedded in the plush sound-world he's built for High Llamas, Stereolab and many others – thick low end synths under light orchestra strings, dubby percussion atop bossa-nova beats and rumbling drum sounds driving Sean's tounge-in-cheek ditties. Guest vocals from former Microdisney partner, vocalist Cathal Coughlan add to the surreal bloom of Sean’s new musical conception.
The juxtaposition between sophisticated beauty and absurd crassness in *Corpse Flower* is so jarring that listening to this album is at once deeply enjoyable, confounding, and hilarious. It’s a collaboration between Mike Patton (Faith No More, Fantômas, Tomahawk, Mr. Bungle et al.) and Jean-Paul Vannier, a septuagenarian legend of French pop. The pair met while performing a tribute to Serge Gainsbourg. Unlike *Mondo Cane*, Patton’s 2010 exploration of vintage Italian pop, there’s nothing traditional about these songs. The contradictions begin with the title—a corpse flower is a massive, colorful plant with the scent of a rotting corpse (or, as Patton says on the title track, “Soft petals, rotten flesh, sweet sick perfume…come and get it”). Romantic melodies and sweeping string orchestration are paired with moments of explosive atonality and lyrics such as “When I drink too much, I shit my pants.” Opener “Ballade C.3.3.” places excerpts from Oscar Wilde’s bleak *Ballad of Reading Gaol* over a cool, low-slung groove. And “A Schoolgirl’s Day” is ominous yet completely innocent, with Patton’s growling vocals depicting, literally, a schoolgirl’s day (“8:30 at school, she learns grammar, history, and geography… 11:30 she goes home for lunch… 3:15 during the break, she plays in the playground, walks up and down with the other girls”). Nothing is quite right on *Corpse Flower*, but that\'s how it\'s supposed to be.
Sometimes, a deadline helps. “It was always looking forward, looking forward, never looking back—we were never listening to previous sessions,” Corridor bassist/vocalist Dominic Berthiaume tells Apple Music of the recording process for *Junior*, his band’s third album and first for Sub Pop. “We recorded every idea that we had, cut those that we thought weren’t good enough. It was really, really intense.” In an effort to deliver *Junior* to their new label quickly enough to secure a 2019 release date, the Montreal outfit—Berthiaume, guitarist Julian Perrault, vocalist/guitarist Jonathan Robert, drummer Julien Bakvis—allowed themselves just a fraction of the time they’d usually taken to sculpt a full-length. The result is their most focused to date and one of the best rock records of the year, the sound of a band (and Sub Pop’s first francophone signing) experiencing a breakthrough. “You start a band and you don\'t know what you\'re doing and you don’t know what you want,” Berthiaume says. “But the more you go, the more you do know. As an artist, the key is to keep evolving. That’s one of the most difficult things about growing up: You just want to still be who you were, but not.” This is the story of *Junior*, one track at a time. **Topographe** “This is a song about people observing other people from above. Jonathan is making an analogy here with someone who draws mountain maps on a 2D platform, you know? We had just bought this synthesizer, and I didn\'t know what to do on my bass guitar, so I just took the synthesizer and played some basslines with it. It took a while to compose this one as a group because all of us didn\'t know what to do on that guitar riff, but in the end, Julien came with this firecracking, explosive bass drum sequence.” **Junior** “We had a show in Quebec City, three hours from Montreal, and we borrowed Julian’s parents’ car. So we did the show, and the next morning, Julian woke us up and was like, ‘Hey, guys, have you seen my pants?’ His pants were stolen during the night, and he found them maybe half an hour later, down the stairs of where we were sleeping. The car keys were in his pocket, but the pockets were empty. So we had to call his parents the day after to tell them, ‘The car keys were stolen, so you\'ve got to come to Quebec City to give us another pair of keys so we can bring back the car to Montreal.’ It was a painful experience: You\'re 30 years old and you\'ve still got to call your parents to come pick you up after your show, because you\'ve been robbed. That\'s the story of the second verse.” **Domino** “We have this thing when we get the rehearsing space: It\'s just everybody plugs into their guitar and bass and drums, and most of the time someone will start to play something and all of the others will join. We started to play this riff for maybe 10 minutes, and after we played it, we were like, ‘Oh, shit, this is a really, really cool riff. We should do something with it.’ So we recorded it on my iPhone, to save it for later. It was months later that we actually came up with all of the other things that surround it, during another session when we were wondering what we should do next. Someone just thought, ‘Hey, you remember that jam that we played months ago that you recorded? It could fit really well on this one.’” **Goldie** “It\'s weird: ‘Goldie’ is mainly about someone who gets pleasure through violence, satisfaction through violence. Goldie is that character. This song took so much time to actually finish. We had the main riff of the song, something we were all confident with when we wrote it. We actually had such a hard time to find any other fitting riffs that would actually work with the song. At some point, Julien had just bought a new sampling pad and he had banks of silly sounds on it. The bridge came from that box. He just started to play something that is not actually on the recording. That\'s how we nailed it.” **Agent double** “This is the oldest song from the album. We wrote this song not long after we released our second album, *Supermercado*. It’s mostly about people isolating themselves. Someone like a good friend, he meets a new girl or a new guy, and then he just starts to isolate himself with this particular person and not calling his friends or his family anymore. Jonathan didn\'t want it on the record because he thought it would sound different, a more subtle song, but it is actually not. So we had an argument. But it made it. I\'m pretty happy about that.” **Microscopie** “A really fun song to create. It\'s pretty short and direct. We added so much other silly stuff, like vocal samples with the pitch shifted and other textures, like bubbles. Everyone in the studio played bongos on this track. We were maybe eight people in the studio, and everyone had his try on the bongos.” **Grand cheval** “We were just sitting in a park, having a beer, having a good time, and this guy shows up and just tries to tell us how we should act and how we should be, trying to act like a philosopher. There\'s a French expression that we say: ‘*Monter sur ses grands chevaux*,’ which means to climb on your big horse, on your tall horse, your *grand cheval*. That means you are, how do you say? Not nerdy, not angry, but frustrated, when you want to explain your philosophy and you see that people are not listening to you. Frustrated. In the end, we just wanted him to go. I think it\'s our mellowest song, maybe our second ballad ever. It still sounds like us, but in a more calm way.” **Milan** “‘Milan’ is about someone who is dead inside, someone who is really jealous and bitter about other people, someone who focuses more on the negative way of seeing things than the positive. We just thought, let\'s have fun in the studio. We\'ve put another sample of a car crash, of a bottle, glass bottles falling on the ground. It just sounds way darker than any other songs on the record.” **Pow** “It\'s funny. It was a song about getting out of our comfort zones, just trying something new, something else. In the end, I think this is what it sounds like, a Corridor song, but a little bit more out here. Less of a jangly guitar thing. All of the songs we record live, it\'s just we play the song as a band, and then we add some extra stuff that we couldn\'t play as a four-piece. Jonathan had these weird ideas of putting an arpeggio of his own voice through a computer sample. There was supposed to be maybe 10 samples of racing cars, but in the end, there are maybe four.” **Bang** “‘Bang’ is a song about Jonathan himself just thinking about what is happening right now to him. He\'s writing a record with his band, stuff is going pretty well, we\'re going to be signed on Sub Pop, good things are happening. But in the end he feels very tired and frustrated about this whole process. So it\'s really self-reflective, and at the end, the very last sentence, we\'re just shouting something in French, which is translated to \'the burden of the worst assholes,\' and it\'s just referring to him as being an asshole in this whole process, and, mostly, at the very end of this process.”
Corridor are a group from Montreal and their Sub Pop debut, Junior, was made just yesterday. The rock'n'roll band had barely inked their record deal when they surfed into studio, racing against time to make the most dazzling, immediate and inventive album of their young career: 39 minutes of darting and dodging guitars, spiraling vocal harmonies, and the complicated, goldenrod nostalgia of a Sunday mid-afternoon. This ain't Corridor's first rodeo. Junior is the band's third full-length and their third recorded with their friend, producer (and occasionally roommate) Emmanuel Ethier. However 2015's Le Voyage Éternel and 2017's Supermercado were made languorously, their songs taking shape across whole seasons. This time Dominic Berthiaume (vocals/bass), Julian Perreault (guitar), Jonathan Robert (vocals/guitar/synths), and Julien Bakvis (drums) permitted themselves no such indulgence. The band were committed to releasing an album every two years, and for Junior it required a blitz. "If you want to release something this fall, we need the masters by the 10th of May," the label had warned them. Winter was already in its last throes: on March 1, Corridor went into studio; in mid-April, Corridor came out. They had somehow created Junior and it was, if we may be so bold, spectacular. Singers, two guitars, bass, drums: the timelessness of the setup underpins the timelessness of the sound, a rock'n'roll borrowing from each of the past six decades—punk and pop, psych and jangle, daydream and swoon. This is music that's muscular, exciting and full of love, its riffs a kind of medicine. Whereas Corridor's past work could sometimes seem overstuffed, twenty ideas to the same song, the new work is hypnotic, distilled. "Part of the beauty of the thing is that we didn't have time to think about it," says Berthiaume. Six of Junior's 10 tracks were conceived during a single weekend. The words to "Bang" were written on the eve of the sessions, as Robert began to panic: "Je payerai tôt ou tard," he sings: I'll pay, sooner or later. Fewer jams, fewer overdubs—no fortnight in the countryside, secluding themselves in a chalet. Even the artwork came in the nick of time: in spite of other, meticulous, masterpieces, Robert's "shitty last-minute collage" (of an egg saying hello) was the one his bandmates went for. That might be Corridor's best trick—their mixture of seriousness and whimsy. Songs like "Miscroscopie" and the standout "Domino" are purposeful, full of songcraft, even as they let loose, slip their collar. "Topographe"'s all call and answer, like rival Cupids shooting arrows at each other across a ravine. "Pow" and "Goldie" are like hurtling racecars, or teams of horses, accelerating towards a memory. And Junior's title track—by turns twitchy and anthemic—is in fact a tribute to Perreault, their "joueur étoile," star player: in spite of his disappointed parents ("parents déçus"), he's Corridor's VIP. Junior's ten tracks are filled with tributes like this, impressionistic portraits of characters in the band-members' lives. Their tone is affectionate, the meaning hazy—even if you speak French. Sub Pop have never before, in their 33-year history, signed a Francophone act. Maybe the band's magic springs from their ingenious hooks, their topaz-tinted vision. Maybe it's the panache of Québec's insurgent underground scene, or the camaraderie of Robert and Berthiaume, who have played together since they were 14. Maybe it's their name—a hallway crossed with a toreador. Probably it's all of these, and none of them: Junior is a joy, a hasty miracle, because it's so much damn fun to listen to. This album is 39 minutes; each day has 24 hours; you can listen 36 times before tomorrow.
Rebirth takes place when everything falls apart. DIIV—Zachary Cole Smith [lead vocals, guitar], Andrew Bailey [guitar], Colin Caulfield [vocals, bass], and Ben Newman [drums]—craft the soundtrack to personal resurrection under the heavy weight of metallic catharsis upheld by robust guitars and vocal tension that almost snaps, but never quite… The same could be said of the journey these four musicians underwent to get to their third full-length album, Deceiver. Out of lies, fractured friendships, and broken promises, clarity would be found. “I’ve known everyone in the band for ten years plus separately and together as DIIV for at least the past five years,” says Cole. “On Deceiver, I’m talking about working for the relationships in my life, repairing them, and accepting responsibility for the places I’ve failed them. I had to re-approach the band. It wasn’t restarting from a clean slate, but it was a new beginning. It took time—as it did with everybody else in my life—but we all grew together and learned how to communicate and collaborate.” A whirlwind brought DIIV there. Amidst turmoil, the group delivered the critical and fan favorite Is the Is Are in 2016 following 2012’s Oshin. Praise came from The Guardian, Spin, and more. NME ranked it in the Top 10 among the “Albums of the Year.” Pitchfork’s audience voted Is the Is Are one of the “Top 50 Albums of 2016” as the outlet dubbed it, “gorgeous.” In the aftermath of Cole’s personal struggles, he “finally accepted what it means to go through treatment and committed,” emerging with a renewed focus and perspective. Getting back together with the band in Los Angeles would result in a series of firsts. This would be the first time DIIV conceived a record as a band with Colin bringing in demos, writing alongside Cole, and the entire band arranging every tune. “Cole and I approached writing vocal melodies the same way the band approached the instrumentals,” says Colin. “We threw ideas at the wall for months on end, slowly making sense of everything. It was a constant conversation about the parts we liked best versus which of them served the album best.” Another first, DIIV lived with the songs on the road. During a 2018 tour with Deafheaven, they performed eight untitled brand-new compositions as the bulk of the set. The tunes also progressed as the players did. “We went from playing these songs in the rehearsal space to performing them live at shows, figuring them out in real-time in front of hundreds of people, and approaching them from a broader range of reference points,” he goes on. “We’d never done that before. We got to internalize how everything worked on stage. We did all of the trimming before we went to the studio. It was an exercise in simplifying what makes a song. We really learned how to listen, write, and work as a band.” The vibe got heavier under influences ranging from Unwound and Elliot Smith to True Widow and Neurosis. They also enlisted producer Sonny Diperri [My Bloody Valentine, Nine Inch Nails, Protomartyr]. his presence dramatically expanded the sonic palette, making it richer and fuller than ever before. It marks a major step forward for DIIV. “He brought a lot of common sense and discipline to our process,” adds Cole. “We’d been touring these songs and playing them for a while, so he was able to encourage us to make decisions and own them.” The first single “Skin Game” charges forward with frenetic drums, layered vocals and clean, driven guitars that ricochet off each other. “I’d say it’s an imaginary dialogue between two characters, which could either be myself or people I know,” he says. “I spent six months in several different rehab facilities at the beginning of 2017. I was living with other addicts. Being a recovering addict myself, there are a lot of questions like, ‘Who are we? What is this disease?’ Our last record was about recovery in general, but I truthfully didn’t buy in. I decided to live in my disease instead. ‘Skin Game’ looks at where the pain comes from. I’m looking at the personal, physical, emotional, and broader political experiences feeding into the cycle of addiction for millions of us.” A trudging groove and wailing guitar punctuate a lulling apology on the magnetically melancholic “Taker.” According to Cole, it’s “about taking responsibility for your lies, their consequences, and the entire experience.” Meanwhile, the ominous bass line and crawling beat of “Blankenship” devolve into schizophrenic string bends as the vitriolic lyrics. Offering a dynamic denouement, the seven-minute “Acheron” flows through a hulking beat guided under gusts of lyrical fretwork and a distorted heavy apotheosis. Even after the final strains of distortion ring out on Deceiver, these four musicians will continue to evolve. “We’re still going,” Cole leaves off. “Hopefully we’ll be doing this for a long time.” Ultimately, DIIV’s rebirth is a hard-earned and well-deserved new beginning.
Greg Gonzalez often thinks in cinematic terms. “It should have a rougher feel, like a documentary would,” the Cigarettes After Sex frontman tells Apple Music of the recording process for *Cry*, his ambient pop outfit’s sophomore LP. “In film, it\'s like, \'Do you shoot on location or do you shoot on set?\' We weren\'t in some office recording studio where there were standards of how you do things and gear set up. Our overall philosophy is to avoid studios. We should just record where it feels nice.” For *Cry*, that meant returning to a cathedral they’d once played in Germany and setting up in the courtyard of a Mallorcan villa. “It definitely made everyone play in a very relaxed way, which was exactly what I was looking for,” Gonzalez says. “In the end, I liked the energy in the gentle landscape of Mallorca, the wind in the trees under the stars. And that\'s how the feeling of the record was, too.” Here are the stories behind every song on the album. **Don’t Let Me Go** “On our first tour of Europe, we played a show in this beautiful cathedral in Bochum, Germany, and we liked it so much we thought we should come back to record. The atmosphere inside led me to write ‘Don\'t Let Me Go’ in about five minutes—the melody and everything. It’s based on a relationship I had in my hometown before I moved to New York, a person that I lost contact with. Just to say, ‘Even though we don’t talk, this was special. This led me to where I am now. Don\'t let the memory of it go.’ It was strange to be in Germany, so far away from home and so far away from my past. You think of where you are and then you think of the person you were just years ago. There\'s something very emotional about that. There was no rehearsal—it just appeared out of thin air.” **Kiss It Off Me** “One of the strangest songs on the record. Growing up in El Paso, there was a lot of Tejano music in the atmosphere. I was listening to metal and John Zorn records in high school, but by the time I got to New York, I had really gotten into Tejana and this one song by Selena called ‘Como la Flor.’ And I just kind of thought, ‘What would happen if I took that and made it a Cigarettes song somehow? Not in some goofy way, but out of a genuine love for Selena and a real emotional connection to that song. Cigarettes stuff is very influenced by Françoise Hardy and Cocteau Twins and Julee Cruise and Leonard Cohen, so it’s like I was throwing neon green into a black-and-white painting.” **Heavenly** “We played this summer festival in Latvia in 2016 and we had his really great show, our first show where the crowd was just going crazy in a new way. It was bizarre to get that kind of reaction—where it feels like we’re Metallica or something—because the music is so relaxed. After we played, we were all on this nice, natural high, and we walked over to a beach that was part of the festival. At that time of year in Latvia, the sun goes down really late at night. We sat down and looked at this gorgeous sunset just going on for hours and hours. It was one of the most beautiful things I\'ve ever seen. And I remember thinking to myself, ‘This is where I should be right now. This is the place I\'m kind of meant to be.’ It was this moment of clarity, and I put it in the chorus of ‘Heavenly.’ I turned that feeling into something more romantic, but it came from the beauty of witnessing that sunset forever.” **You\'re the Only Good Thing in My Life** “The hardest thing to get across in writing erotic pop is deciding where you put that line: What is romance and what is pornography? With the things I\'m doing, I\'m trying to say that all the sexual elements in the music grow out of romance. The romance is part of the sex. The romance is there first, and all the sexual things kind of come out of that, but the romance has to be first. The references to *Playboy* and *Penthouse* are images that I relate to the lover in this song, almost like bedroom talk. If you\'re intimate with someone and you\'re in this very intimate space, the things you say are very intense. They can be very raw, but they can be very passionate and sweet too.” **Touch** “You can really hear the sound of the cathedral on ‘Touch,’ the vastness of it. It’s one of the darker songs, a romance that\'s going bad, one that\'s kind of breaking up and people aren\'t seeing eye to eye. There are songs I\'ve written where the same character repeats, because it\'s from a relationship I had and I\'m telling different stories from that. We did the song ‘K.,’ and we had the song ‘Sweet,’ and we had ‘Affection.’ ‘Touch’ is the finale to that story, the last song associated with that person.” **Hentai** “This is the story of my current relationship. Writing the lyrics, I thought, ‘This is actually pretty over the top. Is it worth saying?’ When we first met, my girlfriend and I had this weird, short conversation about a *hentai* scene: We were both intrigued by it. But it was very open. You need those people in your life. You need to be able to say things out loud and see what they say and see how you react. But we just understood each other, immediately. We could talk about absolutely anything when we first met, and obviously that\'s why we\'re still together. That’s the way I saw it.” **Cry** “I think we all, or many of us, want to be in relationships. I\'ve always been looking for a relationship, one that would be spiritual, one that could be forever, with someone that you just fall in love with and you can\'t help it. We had just started to really tour, and all I was trying to do was to play music for a living—to be a writer, and for that to be my identity. I had met a few people that I probably could have had deep relationships with, but I found that since we were touring, I just wasn\'t ready for it, I wasn\'t in the right place for it. This song was a reaction to all of that. I just couldn\'t commit.” **Falling in Love** “So there’s ‘Hentai,’ and there’s ‘Falling in Love,’ which is about the more traditionally romantic side of my relationship with my girlfriend. Like the image of that moment with her and talking about how it would be sweet to have a house by the ocean someday. I love those plans you can make and have with the people you date. If I\'m traveling, then most of the relationship becomes long-distance, so when we couldn\'t see each other, we would see the same movie at the same time in different cities and make a little date of it. She was in LA and I was in New York, and I\'d be like, ‘All right, here\'s a time that we can both go to that kind of lines up.’ And so we would go and pretend that we were next to each other, watching the movie.” **Pure** “There are the songs that start to lean a bit more erotica on this record, just because the imagery of that was interesting to me. These are details taken from a relationship, but I put them together in the song to kind of tell that story. You could argue it\'s a little more like fantasy the way it’s arranged. There\'s explicit sexual elements to a lot of music. But how do you balance that? It\'s positive sensuality, positive sexuality.”
“How people may emotionally connect with music I’ve been involved in is something that part of me is completely mystified by,” Thom Yorke tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “Human beings are really different, so why would it be that what I do connects in that way? I discovered maybe around \[Radiohead\'s album\] *The Bends* that the bit I didn’t want to show, the vulnerable bit… that bit was the bit that mattered.” *ANIMA*, Yorke’s third solo album, further weaponizes that discovery. Obsessed by anxiety and dystopia, it might be the most disarmingly personal music of a career not short of anxiety and dystopia. “Dawn Chorus” feels like the centerpiece: It\'s stop-you-in-your-tracks beautiful with a claustrophobic “stream of consciousness” lyric that feels something like a slowly descending panic attack. And, as Yorke describes, it was the record\'s biggest challenge. “There’s a hit I have to get out of it,” he says. “I was trying to develop how ‘Dawn Chorus’ was going to work, and find the right combinations on the synthesizers I was using. Couldn’t find it, tried it again and again and again. But I knew when I found it I would have my way into the song. Things like that matter to me—they are sort of obsessive, but there is an emotional connection. I was deliberately trying to find something as cold as possible to go with it, like I sing essentially one note all the way through.” Yorke and longtime collaborator Nigel Godrich (“I think most artists, if they\'re honest, are never solo artists,” Yorke says) continue to transfuse raw feeling into the album’s chilling electronica. “Traffic,” with its jagged beats and “I can’t breathe” refrain, feels like a partner track to another memorable Yorke album opener, “Everything in Its Right Place.” The extraordinary “Not the News,” meanwhile, slaloms through bleeps and baleful strings to reach a thunderous final destination. It’s the work of a modern icon still engaged with his unique gift. “My cliché thing I always say is, \'You know you\'re in trouble when people stop listening to sad music,\'” Yorke says. “Because the moment people stop listening to sad music, they don\'t want to know anymore. They\'re turning themselves off.”
Chris Cohen’s songs initially sound easy. They’re each tiny jewels that unfurl at a leisurely pace, but dig a little deeper and you’ll reach a melancholy core. His previous two albums — 2012’s Overgrown Path, and 2016’s As If Apart — were built from lush, blurry tracks that embedded themselves in your subconscious, like they’d always been there. Chris Cohen, his third solo album, was written and recorded in his Lincoln Heights studio and at Tropico Beauties in Glendale, California over the course of the last two years. Cohen would sing melodies into his phone, fleshing them out on piano, then constructing songs around the melodies, and later, adding lyrics and other instrumentation with the help of Katy Davidson (Dear Nora), Luke Csehak (Happy Jawbone Family Band), Zach Phillips, and saxophonist Kasey Knudsen, among others. It is his most straightforward album yet, but it is also the conclusion of an unofficial cycle that began with Overgrown Path. “My parents got divorced while I was making this record,” he says. “They were married for 53 years and my father spent most of his life in the closet, hiding both his sexual identity and various drug addictions. For me it was like being relieved of a great burden, like my life could finally begin.” It is this sense of truth and freedom that is woven into the very fabric of the record even as it grapples with complicated emotions. Indeed, a core truth of the record is what at first seems like a simple idea: “I hoped that by writing about what was closest to me at the time, I might share something of myself and where I came from,” Cohen says. Though the album is undeniably part of the framework that made up his previous two records — Chris Cohen is also a thoughtful, accomplished meditation on life and family, backed by dusky instrumentation influenced by the late evening beauty of Pat Metheny’s Falcon and the Snowman soundtrack, and Thomas Dolby’s Golden Age of Wireless. It’s beautiful, but it’s also unflinching in its depiction of emotional turmoil. On “Edit Out,” written in the wake of his parents’ divorce, Cohen examines his relationship with his father through devastatingly straightforward lyrics: “We were loved from afar / Everyone kept in the dark.” Though it’s a gorgeous song, the emotional weight is immense. A line like “people want a lot” carries a substantial amount of power, even if the initial intention of the lyric is not immediately clear. But Chris Cohen is not a confessional record in the traditional sense. Instead of picking at open wounds, the album looks forward by embracing the past. Cohen’s father worked in the music industry, which exposed him as a child to not just the practical realities of a career in music — from a young age he saw plenty of recording studios and heard stories about musicians from his parents — but the more creative as well. “I had the sense that music was important and was something I could do,” he says. On album opener, “Song They Play,” Cohen revisits his childhood, and his attempts to get his father’s attention. “I was mostly shielded from what was going on,” he says. “but had occasional glimpses into my parents’ complex world. When I sing these songs, I think it’s my way of communicating what I am unable to communicate in real life.” None of these songs are abrasive or even aggressive. The soft drum fills on “Song They Play” comfort, and the guitar virtually glitters. Chris Cohen is a beautiful album about pain and loss but it’s also about accepting loss. Of the song “Green Eyes,” Cohen says “[It’s about] the men in my family and how they passed their worldview along to each other from great emotional distances. My father and grandfather were full of secrets and longing, which were communicated through everyday actions like driving a car or cooking a meal. We all wanted closeness, but never found it in each other.” This is a statement about a specific song, but it is also a statement about the album as a whole: Chris Cohen is not so much autobiographical as it is multi-generational.
Big Thief had only just finished work on their 3rd album, U.F.O.F. – “the celestial twin” – days before in a cabin studio in the woods of Washington State. Now it was time to birth U.F.O.F.’s sister album – “the earth twin” – Two Hands. 30 miles west of El Paso, surrounded by 3,000 acres of pecan orchards and only a stone’s throw from the Mexican border, Big Thief (a.k.a. Adrianne Lenker, Buck Meek, Max Oleartchik, and James Krivchenia) set up their instruments as close together as possible to capture their most important collection of songs yet. Where U.F.O.F.layered mysterious sounds and effects for levitation, Two Hands grounds itself on dried-out, cracked desert dirt. In sharp contrast to the wet environment of the U.F.O.F. session, the southwestern Sonic Ranch studio was chosen for its vast desert location. The 105-degree weather boiled away any clinging memories of the green trees and wet air of the previous session. Two Hands had to be completely different — an album about the Earth and the bones beneath it. The songs were recorded live with almost no overdubs. All but two songs feature entirely live vocal takes, leaving Adrianne’s voice suspended above the mix in dry air, raw and vulnerable as ever. “Two Hands has the songs that I’m the most proud of; I can imagine myself singing them when I’m old,” says Adrianne. “Musically and lyrically, you can’t break it down much further than this. It’s already bare-bones.” Lyrically this can be felt in the poetic blur of the internal and external. These are political songs without political language. They explore the collective wounds of our Earth. Abstractions of the personal hint at war, environmental destruction, and the traumas that fuel it. Across the album, there are genuine attempts to point the listener towards the very real dangers that face our planet. When Adrianne sings “Please wake up,” she’s talking directly to the audience. Engineer Dom Monks and producer Andrew Sarlo, who were both behind U.F.O.F., capture the live energy as instinctually and honestly as possible. Sarlo teamed up with James Krivchenia to mix the album, where they sought to emphasize raw power and direct energy inherent in the takes. The journey of a song from the stage to the record is often a difficult one. Big Thief’s advantage is their bond and loving centre as a chosen family. They spend almost 100% of their lives together working towards a sound that they all agree upon. A band with this level of togetherness is increasingly uncommon. If you ask drummer James Krivchenia, bassist Max Oleartchik or guitarist Buck Meek how they write their parts, they will describe — passionately — the experience of hearing Adrianne present a new song, listening intently for hints of parts that already exist in the ether and the undertones to draw out with their respective instruments. With raw power and intimacy, Two Hands folds itself gracefully into Big Thief’s impressive discography. This body of work grows deeper and more inspiring with each new album.
If there is an overarching concept behind *uknowhatimsayin¿*, Danny Brown’s fifth full-length, it’s that it simply doesn’t have one. “Half the time, when black people say, ‘You know what I\'m sayin\',’ they’re never saying nothing,” Danny Brown tells Apple Music. “This is just songs. You don\'t have to listen to it backwards. You don\'t have to mix it a certain way. You like it, or you don’t.” Over the last decade, Brown has become one of rap’s most distinct voices—known as much for his hair and high register as for his taste for Adderall and idiosyncratic production. But with *uknowhatimsayin¿*, Brown wants the focus to lie solely on the quality of his music. For help, he reached out to Q-Tip—a personal hero and longtime supporter—to executive produce. “I used to hate it when people were like, ‘I love Danny Brown, but I can\'t understand what he\'s saying half the time,’” Brown says. “Do you know what I\'m saying now? I\'m talking to you. This isn\'t the Danny that parties and jumps around. No, this the one that\'s going to give you some game and teach you and train you. I\'ve been through it so you don\'t have to. I\'m Uncle Danny now.” Here, Uncle Danny tells you the story behind every song on the album. **Change Up** “‘Change Up’ was a song that I recorded while trying to learn how to record. I had just started to build the studio in my basement. I didn\'t know how to use Pro Tools or anything. It was really me just making a song to record. But I played it for Q-Tip and he lost his mind over it. Maybe he heard the potential in it, because now it\'s one of my favorite songs on the album as well. At first, I wasn\'t thinking too crazy about it, but to him, he was like, \'No, you have to jump the album off like this.\' It\'s hard not to trust him. He’s fuckin’ Q-Tip!” **Theme Song** “I made ‘Theme Song’ when I was touring for \[2016’s\] *Atrocity Exhibition*. My homeboy Curt, he’s a barber too, and I took him on tour with me to cut my hair, but he also makes beats. He brought his machine and he was just making beats on the bus. And then one day I just heard that beat and was like, ‘What you got going on?’ In our downtime, I was just writing lyrics to it. I played that for Q-Tip and he really liked that song, but he didn\'t like the hook, he didn\'t like the performance of the vocals. He couldn\'t really explain to me what he wanted. In the three years that we\'ve been working on this album, I think I recorded it over 300 times. I had A$AP Ferg on it from a time he was hanging out at my house when he was on tour. We did a song called \'Deadbeat\' but it wasn\'t too good. I just kept his ad libs and wrote a few lyrics, and then wrote a whole new song, actually.” **Dirty Laundry** “The original song was part of a Samiyam beat. He lives in LA, but every time he visits back home in Michigan he always stops over at my house and hangs out. And he was going through beats and he played me three seconds of that beat, and I guess it was the look on my face. He was like, \'You like that?\' and I was like, \'Yeah!\' I had to reform the way the song was written because the beats were so different from each other. Q-Tip guided me through the entire song: \'Say this line like this…\' or \'Pause right there...\' He pretty much just coached me through the whole thing. Couldn\'t ask for anybody better.” **3 Tearz (feat. Run the Jewels)** “I’m a huge fan of Peggy. We got each other\'s number and then we talked on the phone. I was like, \'Man, you should just come out to Detroit for like a week and let’s hang out and see what we do.\' He left a bunch of beats at my studio, and that was just one. I put a verse on, never even finished it. I was hanging out with EL-P and I was playing him stuff. I played that for him and he lost his mind. El got Mike on it and they laced it. Then Q-Tip heard it and he\'s like, \'Aww, man!\' He kind of resequenced the beat and added the organs. That was tight to see Tip back there jamming out to organs.” **Belly of the Beast (feat. Obongjayar)** “I probably had that beat since \[2011’s\] *XXX*. That actual rap I wrote for \[2013’s\] *Old*, but it was to a different beat. Maybe it was just one of those dry times. I set it to that beat kind of just playing around. Then Steven \[Umoh\] heard that—it was totally unfinished, but he was like, ‘Yo, just give it to me.’ He took it and then he went back to London and he got Obongjayar down there on it. The rest was history.” **Savage Nomad** “Actually, Q-Tip wanted the name of the album to be *Savage Nomad*. Sometimes you just make songs to try to keep your pen sharp, you know? I think I was just rapping for 50 bars straight on that beat, didn\'t have any direction. But Q-Tip resequenced it. I think Tip likes that type of stuff, when you\'re just barring out.” **Best Life** “That was when me and Q-Tip found our flip. We were making songs together, but nothing really stood out yet. I recorded the first verse but I didn\'t have anything else for it, and I sent Tip a video of me playing it and he called me back immediately like, \'What the fuck? You have to come out here this weekend.\' Once we got together, I would say he kind of helped me with writing a little bit, too. I ended up recording another version with him, but then he wanted to use the original version that I did. He said it sounded rawer to him.” **uknowhatimsayin¿ (feat. Obongjayar)** “A lot of time you put so much effort when you try too hard to say cool shit and to be extra lyrical. But that song just made itself one day. I really can\'t take no credit because I feel like it came from a higher power. Literally, I put the beat on and then next thing I know I probably had that song done at five minutes. I loved it so much I had to fight for it. I can\'t just be battle-rapping the entire album. You have to give the listeners a break, man.” **Negro Spiritual (feat. JPEGMAFIA)** “That was when Peggy was at my house in Detroit, that was one of the songs we had recorded together. I played it for Flying Lotus. He’s like, \'Man, you got to use this,\' and I was like, \'Hey, if you can get Q-Tip to like it, then I guess.\' At the end of the day, it\'s really not on me to say what I\'m going to use, what I\'m not going to use. I didn\'t even know it was going to be on the album. When we started mixing the album, and I looked, he had like a mood board with all the songs, and \'Negro Spiritual\' was up there. I was like, \'Are we using that?\'” **Shine (feat. Blood Orange)** “The most down-to-earth one. I made it and I didn\'t have the Blood Orange hook, though. Shout out to Steven again. He went and worked his magic. Again, I was like, \'Hey, you\'re going to have to convince Q-Tip about this song.\' Because before Blood Orange was on it, I don\'t think he was messing with it too much. But then once Blood Orange got on it, he was like, \'All right, I see the vision.\'” **Combat** “Literally my favorite song on the album, almost like an extra lap around a track kind of thing. Q-Tip told me this story of when he was back in the late ’80s: They\'d play this Stetsasonic song in the Latin Quarter and people would just go crazy and get to fighting. He said one time somebody starts cutting this guy, cutting his goose coat with a razor, and \[Tip\] was like, \'You could just see the feathers flying all over the air, people still dancing.\' So we always had this thing like, we have to make some shit that\'s going to make some goose feathers go up in the air. That was the one right there. That was our whole goal for that, and once we made it, we really danced around to that song. We just hyped up to that song for like three days. You couldn\'t stop playing it.”
Zambian-born hip-hop artist Sampa the Great (born Sampa Tembo) is based in Australia, but don’t call her an Australian rapper. “That’s not completely getting who I am,” she tells Apple Music. “Zambia is a part of my identity, and I wanted to show that story.” Her flow is as polished, exciting, and rich as the production, and her lyrics are poetic, clever, proud, and deeply, necessarily truthful. Tembo’s debut album isn’t just an introduction to her story, it’s part of it. And when she visited her home to perform for the first time, it changed her story altogether. “For me, I was the person who *had* a place to go to, a home to go to,” she says. “I was writing from that perspective until I did my shows there. People would say, ‘You know, you kind of sound different. You sound a bit watered down. You haven’t been home for a while, your accent has changed.’ It put me in this funny place. It hurt. I felt like I was finally home, but the people from home were like, ‘You’re not from here.’ And so it really opened me up to a part of my own life that I didn’t think existed. And it made me understand the emotions that come out of those circumstances for others—there are a lot of people from where I come from who *can’t* go home.” Read on to learn more about the stories behind some of her favorite tracks on *The Return*. **“Mwana” (feat. Mwanje Tembo, Theresa Mutale Tembo & Sunburnt Soul Choir)** “It’s the first song you hear on the album, on my journey. It’s literally my return home, physically, but also spiritually. My sister and mum are on the song, and it’s the first time I’ve ever done a song in Bemba \[the Bantu language spoken by Sampa’s family\]. The album is supposed to be about reassuring yourself of who you are, where you’re from, and how to navigate that, and this is such a special song to me and for the album. And the Sunburnt Soul Choir are amazing. Their voices are beautiful. I love the level of connection there.” **“Freedom\"** “It’s very important to me to talk about the risk that artists take. Everybody knows the artist through their songs, but they don’t know the artist *behind* the music. It’s important for me to highlight that sometimes the business, the money, and the hustle to put your music out there and earn a living can give you some compromises. ‘Freedom’ is me expressing how, as a young up-and-coming artist, it’s so important to know who I am and to not compromise that.” **“OMG”** “‘OMG’ reminds me of home and the music that I heard when I was young. Homesickness was getting in the way of me being content with everything that was happening professionally. Hearing my music is on a radio station \[in Australia\] is beautiful, but it’s not personally reaching me because I didn’t grow up here. It was different when we did go home. I was interviewed by a rapper I listened to when I was younger, who I’d wanted to meet as a child, and then the radio station by my high school played my songs. I don’t take \[being in Australia\] for granted, but I also know that my inspiration, all my music and artistry comes from my home. So to be able to bridge those two—who I am and where I’m based—has made me more assured of who I am.” **“Final Form”** “‘Final Form’ shaped the sound of the album. It’s very cinematic. I felt like I was bringing people into a movie of my life. I’ve not fully told my narrative or my story, and the problem with that is then the story is created for me, instead of the other way around. So I’m showing you where I’m from. In the video, I show you my parents, the school I went to. Whatever you create out of that, that’s your business, but this is my story. I needed to create that musically and visually.” **“The Return” (feat. Thando, Jace XL, Alien & Whosane)** “We broke down in the studio while recording this. It’s such a vulnerable, special song, because of the perspectives it brings to the forefront, stuff that I didn\'t write. Everyone on the song is speaking from their individual perspectives, their lives, and how they’re affected by the places they stay in. What I know to be true is that your real home is your soul. Your body. For people who can’t go home, that’s their alternative. They have to call a place that’s not really their home, their home. ‘The Return’ talks about getting to the crux of who you think you are and where you think your home is, and trying to recreate that within yourself. We really broke down, but we let the world hear how vulnerable and scared we are. That’s what I love about it.”
Sampa The Great creates a sense of home on her debut album - “The Return”. A characterful record, its reference points range from classic hip-hop to ancient Southern African sounds. Built on four years of personal and musical soul-searching, it’s an assured statement, the product of meaningful musical connections and of Sampa having to redefine her self-identity away from the comforts of family and old friends. The album follows the recently released single ‘Final Form’, which was hailed as Zane Lowe’s ‘World Record’ and received incredible support from the likes of The Guardian, OkayAfrica, The Independent, Clash, gal-dem and many more. It was also the #1 Most Played track on Triple J the week of release, and received love from Ebro Darden (Beats 1 / Hot 97), Annie Mac, Mistajam & DJ Target (Radio 1), Gilles Peterson & Lauren Laverne (6 Music), Jason Kramer & Anthony Valadez (KCRW), John Richards, Larry Rose & Atticus (KEXP), and more and more. On “The Return” Sampa has enlisted a string of esteemed collaborators and peers to create the album. Mixed by Jonwayne (of Stones Throw notoriety), MsM (Skepta/Boy Better Know) and Andrei Eremin (GRAMMY-nominated engineer for Hiatus Kaiyote and Chet Faker), productions are by Silentjay, Slowthai producer Kwes Darko, Clever Austin (Perrin Moss of Hiatus Kiayote), Blue Lab Beats and Syreniscreamy. The album also features collaborations with Ecca Vandal and London jazz collective Steam Down. Many of them are the fruits of the network Sampa has built since first making waves in 2015 - following time spent studying in San Francisco and LA - as a new arrival in Sydney’s hip-hop and jazz freestyle nights. Since then, she’s performed with Denzel Curry on his breakout track ‘Black Balloons’ for Triple J’s ‘Like A Version’, and toured globally, supporting the likes of Kendrick Lamar, Ms. Lauryn Hill, Thundercat, Joey Bada$$, Hiatus Kaiyote, Noname, Ibeyi and Little Simz. Following recent live performances at Glastonbury, Love Supreme Jazz Festival, Dark MOFO (Tasmania - alongside FKA Twigs, Kelsey Lu, Nicholas Jaar), Down The Rabbit Hole (Netherlands) and a headline show at Hip-Hop Collection (Paris) - Sampa plays alongside Sons Of Kemet at Somerset House on 13th July, before joining Burna Boy - recent recipient of the BET Best International Act award - in New York’s Prospect Park on 19th July plus headline solo shows at Elsewhere in Brooklyn on 18th July and Gold Diggers in LA on 22nd July. She returns to the EU in November for a headline tour that includes XOYO in London, as well as stops in Manchester, Bristol, Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin and more.
Ahead of the release of his official full-length debut album, DC rapper GoldLink launched his Beats 1 show IFFY FM, describing it as “a carefully curated journey through sound touching many corners of the world” and “home to the sound of the black diaspora.” The show exists as a companion piece to the album, shining a light on the MC’s many divergent inspirations, including artists from the UK, Canada, Colombia, Nigeria, and, of course, his native DMV area. The album is these same musical ideas realized, with GoldLink running his own unique brand of future bounce through the filters of Afrobeats, dancehall, street rap, and UK pop (among others), seasoning it all with the rumble of post-trap sonics. (There is also the curiously titled “Spanish Song,” where GoldLink has buried any semblance of ethnic identifiers deep into warm and cascading synth lines.) The list of collaborators on *Diaspora* is equally diverse, with features from LA antihero Tyler, The Creator, British-Nigerian producer Maleek Berry, American pop crooner Khalid, Afrobeats superstar Wizkid, and hip-hop bully Pusha T, to name a few. GoldLink has managed to make sense of plenty of voices here, and if *Diaspora*’s relationship to IFFY FM proves nothing else, it’s that he’s making the exact kind of music he wants to be listening to.
Some records aren’t as simple as they seem. Most are capsules of beauty and creative vision, or sublime objects of expression which occupy the abstract realms. But the rare few are also discrete philosophies, realized in sound – a truth brought to the forefront by Mexican Summer veteran, Jefre Cantu-Ledesma’s, latest venture, Tracing Back The Radiance. A radical departure from pop drenched melodies which have defined his recent efforts, its experimental forms offer a dynamic rethinking of the terms and possibilities of discourse and collaboration – a vast ambient landscape of abstraction, texture, and tone, beneath which lingers a veiled vision, addressing the challenges of our increasingly disassociated age. A slow, delicate meditation – open space punctuated by the restrained harmonics of vibraphone, processing, flute, pedal steel, synthesizer, piano, organ, and voice, Tracing Back The Radiance grew from a few simple piano lines, a need for change, and an evolving process which fell somewhere between conversation, singular vision, and a wild game of exquisite corpse – Cantu-Ledesma acting as contributor, servant, and guiding force to the emerging album’s all-star cast of voices – John Also Bennett, Marilu Donavan, Chuck Johnson, Gregg Kowalsky, Mary Lattimore, David Moore, Meara O’Reilly, Jonathan Sielaff, Roger Tellier Craig, and Christopher Tignor, each responding and intervening from various corners of North America.
Unloved released record, 'Heartbreak' via Heavenly Recordings on February 1st, 2019. Available on standard black vinyl with download, and CD. The story of Unloved began in a late-night Hollywood bar in 2015, The Rotary Room, where Keefus Ciancia – known for his collaborations with T-Bone Burnett, including the soundtrack to True Detective and his unprecedented project with Jeff Bridges, Sleeping Tapes, among others – and Jade Vincent, held a long-running music salon at which their fellow musicians could experiment and collaborate. Inviting David Holmes over to DJ at the club, the trio discovered a shared love for 60s’ girl groups and French pop and film noir soundtracks, Brigitte Fontaine, Shuggie Otis, George ‘Shadow’ Morton, Bruno Nicolai, Lee Hazlewood and Jack Nitzsche, along with a tremendous desire to work together. Record Collector - ★★★★ Shindig - ★★★★★ Classic Rock - ★★★★
You can trace the seeds of Fongola back to so many different places. It began in Kinshasa, in the Ngwaka neighbourhood where DIY experimental musical instruments are made, and the Lingwala neighbourhood where Makara Bianko sings every night on electronic loops with his dancers and where the band first met. We spent our tours across Europe dreaming about what we wanted to tell the world. It was recorded in makeshift studios we built out of ping pong tables and mattresses in Kinshasa and Brussels. Finally, I spent months putting it all together in Abattoir, Anderlecht like a giant electronic puzzle with pieces that don’t fit and no blueprint.” - Débruit Signed with independent label Transgressive (Flume, SOPHIE, Let’s Eat Grandma), KOKOKO!’s distorted polyrhythms and spontaneous lo-fi sounds provide a chaotic soundtrack to their home country. When most people think of culture in the Democratic Republic of Congo, it’s The Rumble in The Jungle fight of Muhammad Ali vs George Foreman and the accompanying Soul Power concert with James Brown in the 70s, Mobutu in his abacost and leopard print hat, les sapeurs in their elegant tailoring, and the king of Congolese rumba Papa Wemba. A faded vintage postcard. KOKOKO! represent the antithesis of tradition, and their debut album Fongola - which translates to “the key” - is a torrid, anarchic, youthful journey smashing a new path through modern life in Africa’s third most populous city.
*** DIGITAL ALBUM WILL BE DELIVERED ON THE 30th AUGUST 2019 *** “We’re a rock band that hates rock ‘n’ roll,” says MNNQNS (pronounced mannequins) frontman Adrian D'Epinay. That might sound like a contradictory or even slightly confusing statement to make but once you’ve spent time in the company of MNNQNS’ debut album ‘Body Negative’ it soon makes perfect sense. On the surface the band might resemble a rock band: their music is stuffed with frenetic, jagged guitars that explode in frenzied bursts as pounding drums collide with intense vocals, all of which is carried forward with the charge of youthful spunk and propulsive energy. Yet plunge beneath that surface layer and MNNQNS are evidently a band exploring guitar music with much more depth and breadth than your average. “I like pop, punk or experimental electronic music a lot more than rock,” D'Epinay says. “This is why there are these strange sounds and transitions that come in and out during the album: drones, ambience, drum machines etc.” The album is a rare record that manages to be both fiery and textural. It combines the charge and speed of a record that resembles a car veering dangerously close to a cliff edge yet also manages to instil a confidence in the ability of the driver. MNNQNS exude a sense of controlled danger and chaos and this permeates throughout their debut. This feverish and unpredictable approach is also represented by the band’s diverse musical tastes and inspirations. If you’ve ever wondered what a record would sound like that shares influences as eclectic as Deerhunter, Death Grips, the Beach Boys, Omni and the films of Jean-Jacques Beineix then wonder no more because MNNQNS debut is the answer. The band all met in their hometown of Rouen in France, united by a love of post-punk and going to the pub. However D'Epinay also spent some time in Cardiff when he went to study there, throwing himself into the local music and gig scene. This time opened him up to a wider variety of music, as well as impacting on his songwriting. This unusual hybrid exploration of French and Welsh culture is one of the elements that makes MNNQNS so unique and their music so intent to eschew lazy categorisation. “Many of the things I like in music now come from bands I saw there at that time,” D'Epinay says of his time in Wales. “There were many psych and pop bands, experimental acts, and weird punk music. It impacted on me both musically and visually. I found myself much more at home in Wales than in France. I also learned to enjoy writing alone at that time, which was something new for me.” Perhaps the exposure to such an eclectic amount of music combined with the environment of Wales stayed with D’Epinay and carried with him into the making of the band’s debut album, which saw them debunk to the French countryside. “It was so great to be able to go out after a few takes and just be surrounded by trees and sheep,” D’Epinay recalls. “You can really focus on the record instead of ending up at the nearest pub every night.” Such a sense of determination and focus is apparent on the record throughout; whether it’s the post-punk assault of “Wire (Down to The)”, the harmony-soaked pop swing of “NotWhatYouThoughtYouKnew”, the deeply textural explorations of “Stagnant Pools” - which combines seamless melody with an urgency that resembles This Heat - or the kick-down-your-front-door charge of “Urinals”. This duality of harmony and discordance that exists on the record is something that D’Epinay feels when he reflects on the recording process. “Some tracks make me want to go out and dance whilst others remind me of being totally alone in the countryside. Listening to the record is like being pushed away from the city and then dragged back in.” Despite only releasing their last EP in 2018, the sense of evolution, growth and identity that exists on their debut feels distinct. “We took advantage of the format,” D'Epinay says of their album. “An LP means that you can take the listener into deeper parts of your music than an EP. I mean you still have to grab people's attention but if you have it then it's up to you to build something around it. The music has changed from our last EP in the way that we’ve found our tools by incorporating jangly 12-string guitars, dry drum sounds, tape manipulation, strange DIY pedals and sometimes monophonic synths.” This newfound sense of focus, harmony and firing on all cylinders also comes from the band finding a groove amongst their personnel. “There has been many line-up changes since I started this band,” says D'Epinay. However, the now rock-solid group also featuring Gregoire Mainot, Félix Ramaën and Marc Lebreuilly, are helping bring to life the simple but potent vision D'Epinay has always had for MNNQNS. “They really share my love for writing pop songs and experimenting with new sounds and textures.” And of course they are also a rock band that hates rock ‘n’ roll.
leaving meaning. is the first Swans album to be released since I dissolved the line up of musicians that constituted Swans from 2010 – 2017. Swans is now comprised of a revolving cast of musicians, selected for both their musical and personal character, chosen according to what I intuit best suits the atmosphere in which I’d like to see the songs I’ve written presented. In collaboration with me, the musicians, through their personality, skill and taste, contribute greatly to the arrangement of the material. Michael Gira – Vocals, words, acoustic/electric guitar, production. I started Swans in NYC in 1982 and have been the primary songwriter, singer and producer throughout the years. In the early years I played bass, but later switched to guitar. During the years of Swans hiatus (1999 – 2010), I released several albums by and toured with a group called Angels of Light. Kristof Hahn – Lap steel, various guitars throughout, backing vocals, generous and insightful advice on mixes and arrangements. Kristof first became involved with Swans in 1989, was a principal contributor to Angels of Light, and a core Swans member 2010 – 2017. Kristof’s other musical ventures have included the Rock ‘n’ Roll Noir band Les Hommes Sauvages and Kool Kings (with Alex Chilton). He’s currently working on an instrumental record for Lawrence English’s label, Room 40. He holds a Masters Degree in Political Science, and when Swans doesn’t pay the bills, he translates books for a living. Kristof’s presence, on and off tape, is pivotal to this record. Kristof lives in Berlin, Germany. Larry Mullins - Drums, vibes, orchestral percussion, Mellotron, various keyboards, backing vocals. Larry (AKA Toby Dammit) is a trained symphonic percussionist and all around consummate musician. He played through the 90s with Iggy Pop and later with The Stooges. He played with Swans in the late 90s and was a main contributor to Angels of Light. He is rumored to have been involved with The Residents. His varied and numerous credits also include a stint with Silver Apples as well as recently, Shakespeare’s Sister. His current main job is playing keyboards with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I decided immediately to ask Larry to contribute to Leaving Meaning after watching the German TV series Babylon Berlin, and suddenly, unbeknownst to me, there was Larry as the main focus of various cabaret scenes, drumming behind a huge kick drum in his inimitable style. After laughing in shock for perhaps half an hour, I decided to contact him. We hadn’t been in close touch for a long time and I’m elated I reached out. Larry lives in Berlin, Germany. Yoyo Röhm - Electric bass, double bass, various keyboards, piano, backing vocals. Yoyo came to my attention through his work with Kristof and Larry in Berlin. In addition to his excellent bass playing, Yoyo’s ears were invaluable in helping to sort out many of the arrangements. Yoyo plays with numerous left field musicians around Berlin and also works with Mick Harvey on his Serge Gainsbourg recordings and tours. Yoyo, Larry, Kristof and I rehearsed in Berlin for 3 weeks prior to recording. Yoyo is a true Berliner – gruff and determined on the outside, a marshmallow inside. He was a great musical resource for this record. The Necks – (Chris Abrahams - piano, organ; Tony Buck - drums, percussion; Lloyd Swanton - double bass). I have been an avid Necks fan since I first saw them perform at a Big Ears Festival in 2010. They subsequently played with Swans at a few shows in Australia. Their live performances and recordings are just about any superlative you can think of – mesmerizing, transcendent, sublime. Their music is entirely improvisational – it’s my understanding that they have no idea what they’re going to play before they start. And yet, mostly using rudimentary jazz trio instrumentation, they manage to fashion burgeoning and ever-evolving, immersive clouds of sound that utterly envelop the listener as the music unfolds. I’m beyond honored and humbled that they agreed to perform the basic tracks for 2 of my songs (The Nub, and Leaving Meaning). Their performances were then delicately, and (I hope!) tastefully further orchestrated upon in Berlin. Tony lives in Berlin, and also played drums on the song Some New Things. Anna and Maria von Hausswolff– Choral backing vocals. Anna is blessed with a soaring voice, lyrical acuity and increasing facility with the church organ. I was impressed recently to learn that she often travels around Europe and visits churches unannounced, where she talks her way into being allowed to use the resident organ – some of them rather massive, I imagine – and plays and explores for hours. Her searing records and live shows reflect the courage of her imagination and have garnered her increasing, much deserved recognition. Maria is an accomplished Swedish cinematographer and director of photography. In 2017 I heard Anna and Maria singing together at a sound check for a special song they were doing in Anna’s set, was instantly enthralled, and resolved at that moment to ask them to participate together on a Swans recording. I’m delighted they agreed to come to Berlin and record for me. They were a joy to work with! They live in Scandinavia. Ben Frost - Guitar, synthesizers, sound manipulations. Ben’s adventurous sound-craftings, sometimes harrowing and sometimes delicate and quite musical, and his powerful live shows, have afforded him much recognition of late. I’ve also been highly impressed with his soundtrack work for the HBO series, Dark. He’s an extremely talented arranger and composer. His mission for this record was intentionally ill defined. I basically wanted his ears and sensibility, with no particular part or instrument in mind. I arrived at his studio in Reykjavik, Iceland, put up the songs, and he played what he thought a song needed. I was pleasantly surprised to discover his unique approach to the electric guitar as well as his synth work. Ben also was quite helpful with arrangement and mixing ideas. Ben lives in Iceland. Baby Dee – Lead vocal on The Nub, supported by her friends Fay Christen and Ida Albertje Michels, and Jennifer Gira. Dee has released numerous records (one produced by Bonnie Prince Billie, I think), and if you don’t know them, you should! The first time I saw her she was riding a unicycle in circles outside the now-defunct Avant club, Tonic, in NYC, playing a ukulele (or accordion?) and singing with great mirth. I saw her set that night and was won over. She’s since toured with Swans several times. Her music could loosely be called neo cabaret, but more accurately she’s totally unique and a great performer and songwriter, graced with a powerful voice and high-end ability on the piano, accordion and more. I wrote The Nub specifically for her to sing. I was stymied for words to the main guitar figure to the song, and suddenly she popped into my mind, floating through the universe in diapers, sucking milk from the stars. The song wrote itself. Dee lives in The Netherlands. Jeremy Barnes and Heather Trost – Jeremy: Santur, hi-hat, fiddlesticks, accordion, engineering; Heather: Stroh violin, violin, viola, fiddlesticks, engineering. Together, Jeremy and Heather comprise the band A Hawk and a Hacksaw. (Jeremy played at one time with the bands Neutral Milk Hotel and Beirut). Again, if you don’t know their music, you should! They’ve released several records. It’s Balkan/Gypsy influenced, somewhat psychedelicized, with great singing, playing and melodies. They’re each multi-instrumentalists and they intrepidly travel the world, both touring and simply exploring the Balkans, in search of adventure and master musicians of the region, some of whom they simply befriend, others whom they record. They toured with Swans a while ago, and I’ve had it in the back of my mind to ask them to record on a record since. I travelled to their home studio in Albuquerque, New Mexico, presented the songs, and did the same thing I did with Ben – I said, “Now what?” You can hear them on several songs on the record, sometimes subtly, at other times more pronounced. In any event, it’s great to have such a pair of wonderful humans on the record. ADDITIONAL MUSICIANS: Dana Schechter – Dana played bass on the song Some New Things. Dana was a core member of Angels of Light. Her current band is Insect Ark. It’s rather heavy and great. Will be working with Dana more soon in the future and very pleased we reconnected recently. Jennifer Gira – Backing vocals throughout and cameo vocal on Sunfucker. Jennifer has sung backing vocals on the past few Swans albums as well as lead vocal on the song When Will I Return? on the last Swans album, The Glowing Man. She’s also of invaluable help on mixing and arrangement decisions. Cassis Staudt – Accordion and harmonium. Cassis was a core member of Angels of Light. She moved to Berlin some time ago and we lost touch. Cassis is a composer of music for films in Berlin. I’m very happy to be working with her again. Norman Westberg – Electric guitar. Norman played on a few key moments on this record. Norman has been in and out of Swans since the beginning (mostly in) and was a core Swans member in 2010 – 2017. We’ll continue to work together into the future, absolutely. Norman releases solo instrumental records through Lawrence English’s Room 40 label. We’re touring (each solo) together in Eastern Europe soon. Christopher Pravdica - Bass guitar, sounds. Chris played at pivotal moments on this record. He was a core Swans member in 2010 – 2017. We’ll continue to work together in the future, absolutely. Chris has recently been enlisted by Jamie Stewart for his band Xiu Xiu. Phil Puleo – Phil played hammer dulcimer on the song Amnesia. This might be considered a severe under utilization of his considerable talents as a drummer, but there’s more to come quite soon. Phil was a core member in Swans 2010 – 2017 and played as a member of Swans in the late 90s, and contributed to Angels of Light. Thor Harris - percussion, trumpet, clarinet, sounds, bells, gizmos, additional vibes. Thor drove up from Austin to record for me at Heather and Jeremy’s place in Albuquerque. Always a highpoint to be in the presence of this committed musician and friend. Thor was a core member of Swans in 2010 – 2016 as well as Angels of Light. Certainly more to come! Thor has his own happening combo, Thor and friends, and they make seductive and beautiful records and tour often. He also has recently been recruited by Jamie for Xiu Xiu. Paul Wallfisch – Paul played piano to great effect here and there on the record. Paul was a touring member of Swans in 2017. He works with the glorious human chanteuse Little Annie. He’s also a musical director for theater productions in Germany, and recently landed a very fancy-pants job as musical director/composer for a theater production at a historical theater in Vienna. Thanks to All!!!! MG