I often listen to the music that I am sent when I am driving, and only a very few albums make a big impression: ones that I return to again and again. Good Morning, Midnight by Becky Becky is one such record, combining the extraordinary narrative of an ageing party girl out on the lash with hugely danceable beats, the ennui of our protagonist’s tale somehow brought alive in a wonderfully life affirming manner. If you love early era The Knife (and I do) then you will revel in Good Morning, Midnight. I spoke with Gemma Williams (formerly of Woodpecker Wooliams) and her ex-boyfriend Peter J D Mason, about making music after a relationship ends, and the power of doing it for yourself.
What were your main influences when this album was in gestation?
The main influence of this album was always the work of Jean Rhys, specifically the novels and short stories she completed in the ‘20s and ‘30s. The songs first took shape on scraps of dog-eared paper in a tiny studio flat in Prague, with no access to any computers for recording or instruments for figuring out some music. At first all we had was copies of Jean Rhys’ novels and words on paper – nothing musical at all. The music came later, ideas were formed on an old guitar with only two strings originally belonging to the deceased mother of one of us. When it came to finally recording the songs proper, we sold some old vinyl and bought a synthesiser, and a lot of the ideas came from tinkering with that. Musically, we listened to a lot of ‘80s synth-pop like Bronski Beat and Soft Cell, and we also drew a lot from The Knife, Hot Chip and Legowelt.
What did you mean by Good Morning, Midnight?
The title of our album comes from the title of a book by Jean Rhys, which we drew most of our inspiration from. We toyed with the idea of using another title, but it seemed to fit the album we’d made perfectly. Jean Rhys herself took the title from an Emily Dickinson poem. In the poem, Dickenson talks of being rejected by ‘day’ and turning towards ‘night’. Obviously, this has been interpreted into ideas of leaving ‘the light’ and being drawn into ‘darkness’, life and death, etc. It fits the protagonist of our album. She’s losing her place in society, becoming an invisible person – a woman, ageing and single – she’s being rejected by society and turning towards darkness. That’s the tale of the album in once sentence. Hence, Good Morning, Midnight.
The album features the tales of a ‘lonely, ageing female‘ – what inspired such a choice?
Our protagonist is a single, ageing woman who is also a drunk. This is almost a sin in western society. People don’t care for or about these kinds of people. If you’re too old to be the object of someone’s lust and not a mother, what are you? Nothing. These people don’t exist as far as most media is concerned. Yet these women do exist. We didn’t make an album about a young, carefree, partying clubbing woman – songs about these people abound, especially in electronic music. We wanted an interesting story, an interesting character, someone more real to be at the forefront of our music.
Becky Becky by Cristina BanBan. ‘I tried to reflect the image of a powerful, glamorous and very feminine woman as it was the feeling I had after listening to Good Morning, Midnight. I wanted to capture the sexy and stylish beats of the new album through a strong contrast between bright colours. I think it comes from a huge influence of the cover albums from club scene in the 80s’.
Do you know of anyone who fits this bill in real life? And if so, what advice do you have for them?
As we said, there are plenty of women out there who could be our protagonist. For us to give advice to them would be a bit presumptuous on our part, though. This album is a snapshot, a description of one woman’s experience. It’s a piece of narrative. We have no advice for anyone.
Fire & Wings: This song details the end of an alcohol-fuelled evening in a European city, wherein the narrator drunkenly vows to ‘drink [herself] to death‘, laments love lost, encounters a sinister older gentleman with designs on her; all culminating in a joyous paean to that particular feeling that, ‘comes in a glass… fire and wings.’
How did you put together the video for recent single Fire & Wings? Can you tell us a bit about the making of…
We are essentially a zero-budget group. The album was written when one of us was pretty much homeless, sleeping on sofas in Europe. So when it came to making our first video for the album, we didn’t have access to a load of cash. We do have some friends, however. Richard Sanz had put together an animation for us to use as a projection some time prior, with no specific music in mind. With a bit of editing we found it fit to Fire & Wings perfectly. As it was originally designed as projection, we decided to mix it with some live shot-footage, albeit heavily effected. We’re great fans of ‘one-shot’ videos – where it’s just one camera with one shot for the whole thing. With a music video, often you want the music to speak for itself – the visuals are an assist to that. Take a look at Once In A Lifetime from Talking Heads’ live DVD Stop Making Sense. Despite having access to god-knows how many camera angles, for the first four or so minutes, the shot is just one, a close up of David Byrne. That’s all you need. A friend of ours has created a piece of software called Lightsynth that we’ve also used for animated visuals – so far, only live, but we may use it in a video too, and another group of friends is putting together a kind of cubism-based video for House of the Black Madonna. These will be released over the next couple of months.
A DIY aesthetic and process is clearly important to you – how has this manifested in the release of your album?
Everything about this album we have done ourselves. We recorded and mixed the album ourselves, created our own label to distribute it, booked our own gigs. Everything we’ve shouldered ourselves which has been quite stressful, yet gave us the control we wanted.
Have you any plans to tour in 2014, and if so where can we see you live?
We find playing live quite difficult, for various reasons and we are still developing how we present ourselves and our music in a live environment. We very much believe in putting on a ‘show’ rather than a gig – we use a combination of mixed-media and extra performers to try and create something that’s more theatrical than a standard concert. However, so far, it’s still a work-in-progress that develops with every performance. We’re playing Supernormal festival in Oxfordshire in August, and then we aim to conduct a European tour in the autumn, primarily Spain, Germany and Italy.
House Of The Black Madonna.
You first got together in 2011 and became a couple. When your relationship fell apart, you continued to make the album – what have been the best bits and pitfalls of this creative process?
The pitfalls have mainly been learning how to work with one another. The first time we got in a room together to record after our break-up was quite difficult, as there was still a lot of tension in the air. This also transferred to rehearsing for live concerts, too. Recording and rehearsing can be quite stressful, and with the history between us, it can feel very personal. The best bits have been that we have actually created something very positive out of our acrimonious split. We have built something together that has kept us in each other’s lives. It was a real struggle to achieve, but we made something we’re really proud of. And we’re not just talking about the album. We have also created a strong friendship, and we are now very close. Without making this record, it’s hard to say if we’d even still be speaking to each other.
Would you and will you do it again?
Would we do it again? Definitely. Will we do it again? That’s a harder question to answer. We can’t really promise anything. After the album was first finished, it felt like that might be it. That might be all we’re capable of doing together. However, now we’re on a bit more of an even-footing, there may be more to come from us yet.
So here we are. After a couple of years the guys from Canada return come back with their long awaited second release Neon Bible. As a consequence a little journey to London is always good to promote their new material and the Brixton Academy has no problem in selling out tickets of their four concerts in March.
Supporting artist is Patrick Wolf who’s also coming back on the scene with a lighter, more aboutonline funnier and probably less difficult album than his previous offerings. His was a good show, try nothing to complain about and he certainly knows how to impress the public with his vocal qualities.
Suddenly it’s nine o’clock: lights down, what is ed public screaming and from the video projectors a preacher is explaining to us God’s law. In the background an enormous neon bible illuminates in red while some other neon’s appear in front of the stage.
Keep the Car Running, The Well and the Lighthouse or Ocean of Noise, the last one much better live than on the album, are among the first to be performed before coming to their relatively old hits.
As for Arcade Fire they represent everything a big band should be: multi-instrumentalists (Régine Chassagne), violins, horns, organs, lots of different materials and a show that offers all the songs that a fan can ask. The lead vocalist Win Butler is constantly supplied by choruses, shouts or backing vocals while the rest of the band seem unable to rest and keeps moving around the stage. Well, static is definitely not the word to define them. Chaotic in their movements and epic in their anti-minimalist concept of music probably fits better for a band that concentrates on orchestrations.
A really good live show that makes you come back home and listen again to the new release if, just like me, you’ve been a little disappointed the first time you heard it. Even if I am definitely a bigger supporter of Funeral, I am beginning to think that probably in a couple of weeks I’ll be playing Neon Bible constantly on my earphones.
Barfly on a Friday night – rammed. Not as you might expect with sweaty youths, help oh no, visit an older crowd is in tow tonight for a couple of hot, new electro-ey acts – wicked.
Having begun their incarnation as a Cycling Cinema which premiered at 2007′s Big Chill Festival, andcapsuleThe Magnificent Revolution have progressed into all types of creative, information pills imaginative and inspirational forms in which to educate people about renewable energy and ecology. If you were around East London on Sunday 26th April, adiposity you might have caught their outdoor, bicycle powered film screening of Nanook of the North. This was projected onto a wall of a warehouse building in Hackney, which also serves as the location for the next wave of art, music, discussion and peddling power which will be taking place this coming Saturday, 2nd May.
So, what did I miss on Sunday?
“We held an outdoor cinema screening – there is no electricity or power in the building, and we felt that this was an amazing opportunity to use our bike generators to power a screening. Last week we screened Nanook of The North; we chose it because it is a documentary about the harsh reality of living in a truly remote, isolated environment which is devoid of all the mod cons of our society – so there is a nice dialogue between what we are doing with this building space, and the fact that it is a barren canvas for us to work with. Also, Nanook is based in an isolated community and the fact that we can project this story onto a building in built up Hackney – (laughs) – we felt that we had a strange contrast between the Hackney area and the icy tundras of North America!”
Can you tell me a little more about the events that are taking place this weekend?
“This Saturday, we have a programme of art and workshops running from 12.00 – 8.00 pm at 6 Orsman Road, Hackney. The main event is a live art installation and some video pieces created by a few of the Eastern European artists that are connected to the group who are occupying the ground floor of the building. They are in the process of installing site specific works which are dealing with the history of the premises – it used to be an old vinyl building. It was closed down about two years ago, has been left dormant, and is now in the process of planning permission to be torn down and rebuilt as as a five story apartment building. Obviously this is will obscure the views of the canal and block a lot of the light, and most of the local residents are unhappy with these plans, so there has been a lot of support for what we are doing, and the fact that we are bringing attention to the fact that people don’t want these new buildings springing up.”
So who else is involved in the activities?
“There are various different organisations that are feeding into the project and we go by the collective name of Resistance Unit. Within that is Magnificent Revolution, which is basically an environmental education project. We have developed the bicycle generators which we tour around schools, and we also do festivals and events – we teach people about renewable energy sources and using the bicycle generators is a nice way to get people to understand the amount of power which is needed to power the households, and it also gets them to reassess their energy use.
As well as Massive Revolution, we have also got a group called Data Blender involved for Saturday- they are a dance collective, and they do various parties around London in abandoned buildings. Basically, we are providing a platform in which people can come down to the space and utilise in a creative way. So anyone who pitches up can take part – the exhibition will be taking up the space downstairs and upstairs will be workshops. During the day we will be running a workshop on how to make your own bike generator – we will take you through the process that we have been through in order to produce your own generators, you can learn more about the context of what we do, and then you can download further information off our internet site. So all in all, it should be a good introduction to bike power and renewables.
With regards to the rest of the day, from 4.00-6.00pm we will have an open drawing club. This is a session run by a friend of ours, Sebastian who is an amazing art teacher. There will also be discussions about art and philosophy as well as the experimental drawing! After this, from 6.00 -8.00 pm there will be a bike powered open jam session held on the roof terrace where we held the Nanook screening. It promises to be an interesting day!”
Californian Richard Swift brings all the west coast sunshine to us Londoners, order where he will be playing his latest album, ‘Atlantic Ocean’, at The Lexington.
8pm. £8.50.
Tuesday 5th
Our beloved Maccabees are back in town promoting a great new album ‘Wall Of Arms’ at Electric Ballroom.
6:30. £15.
Wednesday 6th
So far the week is full of brilliant names and their new releases. For Wednesday we have the lovely Au Revoir Simone trio launching ‘Still Night, Still Light’ at Bush Hall, which is an album we`ve been listening to nonstop at the office.
7.30pm. adv £9.
The gig we were all waiting for. Zach Condon`s aka Beirut will be performing some major folk at the HMV Forum this Friday.
7pm. £17.00.
Saturday 9th
Folks at Bardens Boudoir say: “Halloween only comes once year, but why wait?”. Right. The evening entitled Palacio de Los Muertos celebrates all things morbid and macabre, from Mexican Day of the Dead to Halloween to Voodoo Death Cults, Hawaiin-Surf Creatures, Gypsy-Funeral Tarantellas, and the Danse Macabre. Featuring Molotov Jukebox, Rasp Thorne and a few other bunch of creepy people.
It is no exaggeration to say that ever since we received a copy of Au Revoir Simone’s latest album ‘Still Night, website like this Still Light‘, dosage we have had it on almost continuous play. Personally, I feel the mark of a great record is that it becomes the soundtrack to your life, and trust me, this one has not left my side and shows no intention of doing so. Still Night, Still Light (released through Moshi Moshi Records) is the third album from the Brooklyn based trio, and the band’s members, Heather D’angelo, Erika Forster and Annie Hart have unquestionably pulled off a hat trick. Brilliantly executed, warm and personal; if you listen to the record with your headphones on, it’s as if the girls are directing their pitch perfect and intimate harmonies solely to you. From 18th May, you will be able to get your hands on a copy and if you do so, you won’t have to search further for your soundtrack to the summer. As a taster; the first single Shadows will be released on 4th May. Before they set off on their European tour, I called up Heather and found out more about the making of this album, their musical influences and styles, and why this time around, they are twittering their tours.
Good morning! Is today going to be an Au Revoir Simone day or a Heather day?
Every day is an Au Revoir Simone day. (laughs) We have band practice today, and we are doing a couple more interviews as well. We are doing a few performances already – we are starting our major headlining tour soon and will be in Europe and then America and then the cycle will continue for…. I don’t know! A long time!
Amelia’s Magazine obviously love this record, and judging by reviews, we are not the only ones…..
We are getting a really positive response, which makes us happy, and is very encouraging, because we as a band we really believe in this one and we finally feel that we made the record that we wanted to. The last two records had a few disappointments but with this one, we are really proud of every song on the album and we feel like we finally have an album that represents who we really are.
Tell us a little about the process of making this album…
We were really nomadic with the recording of this one, we couldn’t afford to go to a real studio, so we recorded literally everywhere, we even recorded at our producers mother in-law’s house (laughs). We did some studio stuff in Brooklyn, but we were never anywhere for that long. We mixed it in Sacramento and things really came together then in those two weeks. Mixing was where everything started to sound really cohesive. All these bits and pieces that we had recorded in the past month started making sense.
If I were to imagine a setting where the album was recorded, I would have imagined a dusty mountain top cabin in the Catskills!
I wish that I could say that we recorded it in a fairy cave, and we had magical tea every day! We don’t have the budget for that yet! (laughs)
How do you all collaborate on the tracks? Every song seems so cohesive.
Where the album is more cohesive is the result of the girls and I touring and spending every day together for two years, when you are with the same people for two years, you become a lot more similar in style, and when you are experiencing the same things, well… we were going through the all same things emotionally and that reflects in the songs.
Your styles seem so similar – but does anyone ever say, ‘ let’s throw in thrashing metal guitar and see what happens?’
(laughs) No, we are all really similar people, and musically, we are also all similar. Annie has a punk, wild side, and she has a side band called Uninhabitable Mansions; that is not particularly Au Revoir Simon-ey (laughs) and she knows that. Erika writes more folky music, but all of the things that we choose to bring to the table are ‘Au Revoir Simone’ style. But before with earlier albums we would bring everything, all different styles of music, and it kind of made it disjointed. So, for this one, we would bring in the stem of the song – sometimes it’s a verse or a chorus and one will play it for the others, and we would work on it and work on it until it was perfect. It may not end up being the song that you first had in your head, but that is the fun part; seeing how it is going to grow once we all put our hands on it! Actually our favourite way of working is when we get to play for ourselves. We will riff for hours and hours and our songs come out of that.
Your style is described as warm and organic electronic music. It is a hard thing to pull off – making electronic music seem accessible – isn’t it? Is it warm because there are three women singing, or do you have to make a conscious effort to make the audience feel like they are listening to something intimate?
I think that is the main thing that we think about when we are writing, and also a large source of our disappointment of what we have done in the past. Having the instruments that we use come off in the recording as warm and airy has been really, really difficult. ….. We would try everything; at first we would go straight into Pro Tools, which made it sound cold, and then we tried layering, and that didn’t work. For this one, Tom (our producer) said ‘pair it down, don’t use ten keyboards, use two and we will amp it so that the one keyboard sounds huge.’ That is a big lesson that we learnt on this album, how to make it even warmer, and also with three girls, it kind of makes it sound like a choir (laughs)
The harmonies are amazing, I feel like there is a French sound to your music; it reminds me of Stereolab and Air; do these bands influence you?
Oh, saying it sounds like Stereolab is the highest compliment ever! My two favourite bands are Air and Stereolab. I love French weird, electronic music, and what I love about those bands is that they never sound cold. And I love Electrelane; they were a keyboard band who also sound really warm. Too bad they are not together anymore.
I will! The last time Amelia’s Magazine met you was 2007, how have things changed since then? I take it that your schedules have got very busy. Is it all about the band now?
Yes, it’s all about the band now, once we start recording everything else goes out the window – It’s Au Revoir Simone every day!
I saw that you Twittered some recent festivals. What do you think of this whole social networking business?
I don’t really know what to think of Twitter, it was a suggestion from a couple of people, so we twittered about the South by South West Festival that we played, but it felt like shouting into the void. You know, is anybody listening? (laughs) I don’t see how it will be practical for us to do it in Europe!
Right, next stop Europe! Where is the tour taking you?
Check out Au Revoir Simone’s website for further details of upcoming dates and album info. And maybe see some of you at their London show? I can’t wait……
Written by Cari Steel on Thursday April 30th, 2009 2:57 pm
This morning I woke up sick – emotionally and physically sick. And upset with myself, cheap because I knew that partly it was my own fault. The early spring sun and the frizzy breeze that would invite everybody else to go out and enjoy the fresh air just didn’t work for me. And in this antithesis of moods between me and the environment outside my room, tadalafil I put on Sarabeth Tucek’s Get Well Soon. And for the first time (despite having listened to it for so long since I got the pre-release in the post) I appreciated it fully.
The second album of the Florida-born, buy information pills Brooklyn-based actress-turned-singer is a therapeutic album indeed. After the success of her self-titled debut two years ago, the fragile songstress got overwhelmed by the fame and things started to precipitate. And apparently the death of the father made her touch the bottom. But music came into help and rescued her from the dark abysses of depression. Music as self-therapy, then. But despite the introspectiveness of the album, the 12 tracks that form the narrative of Get Well Soon address to every soul that can empathise with them, and their message has a healing power for everybody who’s open to let it in. Easy comparisons come to mind when listening to Get Well Soon – Cat Power, Neil Young, Big Star and even The Breeders, just to name a few. But there’s something truly unique about Sarabeth Tucek, that may lie in the genuineness of her grief that transpires from the notes and shades of her voice and hits the heart.
Illustration by Chandra Viola (website under construction)
The opening track ‘The Wound and The Bow’ is a little prelude to the album while ‘Wooden’ truly sets the mood for the whole record, with its enchant of mournful games of chords gently plucked that intertwine with Sarabeth’s bittersweet voice until it opens in a warm old school rock anthem Pink Floyd would be proud of. ‘A View’ is another little gem of melanchonic sweetness. Voluptas dolendi, the Latins would say. ‘You and I, we share a view’ the lyrics go. And I look at the view through my window – a cheeky cloud attempts to cover the sun, but a ray pierces through and I wonder whether ‘he’ is enjoying the same spectacle from wherever he might be in this moment. When ‘The Fireman’ – a autobiographical ballad describing a dream Sarabeth had about her father – kicks in with its more upbeat tempo, I start thinking about my own dad. And I suddenly realise I miss him and his funny grumpiness that has always got on my nerves causing one too many unnecessary arguments.
State I Am In.
‘Things Left Behind’ is in my opinion one of the most heart-breaking songs of the entire album, a sadness that’s hard to bear – ‘you wished yourself right off the map into the air / and if I’m looking hard, you’re above me now / hanging on some little star’ – but Sarabeth’s voice gets so gentle and touching that it makes it impossible not to listen to it 3 times in a row. ‘State I Am In’ opens with languid droney guitars, another classic rock tribute. It’s one of the most upbeat tracks of the whole album, and seems to prelude to the songwriter’s personal resurrection from Hell, which is confirmed by the splendid ‘Rising’ – ‘through a break in the window I can see something is shining’. I can see it too.
Illustration by Chandra Viola
This morning I was sick, I said. And I knew that part of the blame for this was mine. Illness is all about inner pain. And the more you mourn about your pain, the worst it gets. Sometimes you only need to recognise your faults and absolve yourself to feel better. ‘I knew I was sad / I recognised it was bad / but now looking back / I see my mind, it was cracked’, the lyrics of the startling Get Well Soon go, accompanying me to the final redemption. The sun is caressing my cheeks through the window. I open it, and let the fresh air come in. The birds sing along the last notes of the eponymous closing track. I jump on my bicycle and go to join my friends at the park. I’m well now. Thank you, Sarabeth.
Get Well Soon music video
Sarabeth Tucek will play at Camden Crawl and will headline a show in London at the Slaughtered Lamb on May 19th. She’s also beein added to the bill of End Of The Road Festival in September and also Oxfordshire’s Wood Festival in May. Get Well Soon will be out on Sonic Cathedral on 11th April 2011. A gem not to be missed.
Written by Laura Lotti on Friday April 8th, 2011 12:38 pm
Du Goudron et des Plumes Ellie Sutton Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, medications crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, generic ripping out the innards, transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m not really sure what you call them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shade the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells, the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion. The platform tilted as the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests) as they swung repeatedly from side to side, the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was swinging wildly through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, visit this site crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, viagra 40mg ripping out the innards, price transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m not really sure what you call them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shade the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells, the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion. The platform tilted as the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests) as they swung repeatedly from side to side, the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was swinging wildly through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, medicine crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, nurse ripping out the innards, transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m not really sure what you call them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shade the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells, the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion. The platform tilted as the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests) as they swung repeatedly from side to side, the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was swinging wildly through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, look crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, order ripping out the innards, transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m-not-really-sure-what-you-call-them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shadow the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion, and as the platform tilted the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other, pushing and pulling. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth, and how we can either act together to survive or fail apart. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely as they swung repeatedly from side to side (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests), the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was cascading through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
This performance was typical of the way that traditional circus skills have been co-opted by mavericks such as Mathurin Bolze to create something much more abstract and intriguing. A standing ovation flooded through the packed theatre as the lights came up on the opening night of Du Goudron et des Plumes.
Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, here crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, ripping out the innards, transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m-not-really-sure-what-you-call-them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shadow the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion, and as the platform tilted the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other, pushing and pulling. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth, and how we can either act together to survive or fail apart. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely as they swung repeatedly from side to side (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests), the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was cascading through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
This performance was typical of the way that traditional circus skills have been co-opted by mavericks such as Mathurin Bolze to create something much more abstract and intriguing. A standing ovation flooded through the packed theatre as the lights came up on the opening night of Du Goudron et des Plumes.
Du Goudron et des Plumes by Compagnie MPTA with Mathurin Bolze started with a swinging platform lowered slowly over the heads of the performers, story crushing them into the floor. They emerged from beneath, cure ripping out the innards, page transforming the planks into a clanking and clattering playground as the dancers/acrobats/I’m-not-really-sure-what-you-call-them swung adeptly, building and destroying, meeting and parting. Rotating vignettes from everyday life met with random acts of acrobatic grace, often finely tuned for comedic effect – the performers scaling planks to sit, gnome like, at the top, or hanging upside down to mirror each other.
The platform rose, swaying, as paper sheets were unleashed to shadow the manic silhouettes of the characters behind until, in a flurry of motion, the paper was ripped apart. From minimalist jazz to crashing bells the soundtrack was finely tuned to the minutest motion, and as the platform tilted the occupants scrabbled to maintain control, clinging to each other, pushing and pulling. My later reading of the notes tells me this was a metaphor for our unstable future on this earth, and how we can either act together to survive or fail apart. The show ended with them mired in the middle as if aboard a desperate life raft.
I’d like to say that I drifted off rather frequently during this show because I’m really pre-occupied with the launch of my new book this Friday, but the fact is I probably would have done anyway… for me, that’s the trouble with theatrical shows that lack a strong narrative. At times the rhythm and flow of the five fluid acrobats had me gripped, but then I would find I’d gone somewhere else entirely as they swung repeatedly from side to side (shit, I don’t have enough drink for 300 guests), the motion acting as a hypnotist’s pendulum to send me off… and when I snapped to the scene had completely changed…a character was half naked smoking a pipe at the end of a plank, the lone girl was cascading through the air astride a rope swing, a man was swinging wildly from the oversized lamp. Director Mathurin Bolze calls this effect “mesmerising patterns.”
This performance was typical of the way that traditional circus skills have been co-opted by mavericks such as Mathurin Bolze to create something much more abstract and intriguing. He certainly seems to be a popular man: the performers took multiple bows and a standing ovation flooded through the packed theatre as the lights came up on the opening night of Du Goudron et des Plumes.
Rider to the sea starts. With slow, approved sensuous notes, find running then halting. We wait. This is like some sort of Spanish guitar tease; the heroin with eyes masked looks at the man playing the guitar on the balcony of a castle. She jumps higher, find her cape flowing out behind her. They see each other and the notes build up to a feverish level. Then stop. My breath is involuntarily left held.
Anna Calvi’s voice is pushed, because she pushes it. She said in an interview with BBC 6 Music recently, that her vocal performances are about commitment; “baring the soul when you sing, not be scared, just show emotion. it’s important that, I think.” And when compared to Florence and The Machine, she says they are similar in that: “When we go for it, we really go for it.” She does.
Anna credits a wide range of musical influences from Roy Orbison and Elvis to twentieth century music, which she says comes out in her guitar playing. Sometimes she sounds like she should be singing the intro music to a James Bond movie, other times she is a Kate Bush atop a cliff, and then you may get a hint of Adam and The Ants – tribal, wigs and theatre. She certainly has her own sound, and as she says, really unleashes on that mic. You can feel her whole body behind those deep, propelling notes. Visually, her red lips, sculpted cheekbones and feline eyes add to the womanly, lustful passion of the adventure.
I have to admit that the first listen I had, I was not instantly in love with her. However, I was hosting a knit club at my house at the time. And now I realise, for a first listen, Anna is wrong when (perhaps…) extra strong girly vibes are circulating. She is a powerful woman, with no messing or moaning. She is vibrant and direct, not fluffy kitten cute. She has said herself, she is in the business because she loves it. For her, it is not about being ‘careerist’. Maybe this has made her less fearful and safe. She is riding on her own expectations, of which she is willing to push. Thus, I listened to the album a few days later when the moon was full and I was feeling a bit more lioness like, and blimey. It was on all morning and beyond. Together with a coffee, I was screaming from my basement flat. Such a shame I have no rooftops.
Listen to this and you will see exactly what I mean:
So track highlights; No More Words’ guitar notes are so sweet, with Anna’s voice ‘ahhhing’ over the top and singing so close to the microphone. Desire is as you would hope, with the title it holds; “The sound of love is beating like a fevered heart… It’s heavenly, heavenly, desirrrre.” Yes to desires, passions and DRUMS! In contrast First We Kiss, is the lingering and submission of desire and the story from the kiss to beyond. Whilst Blackout is a scaling, swinging, red hot infused, deep breathing track. Then… we have Morning Light, all strung out notes, infused by the morning’s spreading sun. New starts and consequences. A fabulous, long, slightly hazy, almost mumbly track, climaxing with symbols and the full sunrise. It reflects perfectly the early morning’s sensation. Feeling like you have so much time before the sun rises, but it’s always over quicker than you anticipate. You are not invincible, and the day is beginning.
My iTunes says she’s ‘Latin’, but she seems to cover more genres. She has the passions of the Latino, but Anna is also rockier, showier and yet almost primmer than Latin. It’s liberating music, but also feels quite private. A bit like being within the bubble of thoughts consuming a girl in the throes of deep lust, she is singing literally from within. With her Italian blood running through her veins, Anna says this album is about: “intimacy, passion and loneliness.” Strong and all encompassing emotions, that supports both her commitment to performance and the deep, trusted position we are in, as listeners. And you really do believe her feelings as you listen to her.
You know at the end of some of those 80s films, when the couple that have spent the whole movie arguing and bouncing around in bed, get in the car and drive off around a cliff in a sports car that looks like an insect? She would be an AMAZING soundtrack to a modern version of that.
Pin-balling my way through The Troubadour, viagra dosagedosage further pissing off the already pissed off waitress whose path I continually obstructed, information pills I started to lose sight of what the hell I had actually trekked across London for. This notion intensified further by the bitter sting of embarrassment that came after I had marched to front of the queue for the gig, viagra proclaimed my name was on the list, preceded to walk in, only to be told I still had to pay. Having just spent the last of my cash on an overpriced drink, I managed to barter my way in with shrapnel and some pocket flint; and just when I thought my night couldn’t get any worse, Owen Duff took to the stage. Nay, I jest.
The moment the few bars of his first song were played, my seething melodrama quelled. This multi-instrumentalist first played the piano at just four years old, progressing onto cello, guitar and bass. When watching him chirp through the energetic Act of War, taken from his first EP A Tunnel Closing in, it’s hard not wish that he was sat at a grand piano rather than a Casio Keyboard, allowing him to fully demonstrate his obvious mastery. Having been compared to a bizarre hybrid of Sufjan Stevens and Dusty Springfield, Duff’s sound is one of complex melody and artful composition.
His range of song is practically bipolar, effortlessly jumping from jolly ditties such as Any Captain Worth his Due to the far more sombre Sepulchre. Probably best for those with suicidal tendencies to avoid this track at all costs. Undeniably, the highlight of the gig was ‘Morning Finsbury Park’, which enlisted the celestial tones of Ellie Gray. It was during this collaboration that you realised you might be witnessing the embryonic stages of a very successful musician. With a definite theatrical twist, this song floats with the softness that epitomises Duff’s signature velveteen sound.
As ever, you can find out more about both Owen Duff and Ellie Gray on the communicative/informative phenomenon that is MySpace. Just go to www.myspace.com/owenduff or www.myspace.com/elliegraymusic.
Anyway, buy more about we missed the support because the thing that came through with the tickets said they were called the Macabees which sounds like one of those ‘The’ bands that make music to a streak of piss being washed away in the bristol drizzle. Through the floor of the bar above the Anson Rooms they didn’t sound like that at all, story but then it turns out they were another band entirely who may have been alright.
How did Jon first approach you and what were your first thoughts about his proposal?
Diamond Mine is the latest instalment of many years of different sorts of collaborations between JH and KC. In 2004 (I think) Jon approached me at a Fence Collective show in Pittenweem and asked if I’d re-record a version of a track called Your Own Spell with him. He’d heard the original on an old KC album, but he asked in a way that didn’t make me question the quality of my version, and I thought ‘what a clever, tactful chap’.
Your Own Spell
He remixed a track called A Sad Ha Ha that I recorded with Magnetophone for 4AD, and that made me all teary at the end of a Homegame when I heard it.
The Vice-like Gist of It
Next up he remixed The Vice-like Gist of It as a B-side which stopped Janice Forsyth in her tracks, and at the end of 2006′s Green Man Festival he played me And the Racket They Made. I shed real tears and instantly agreed to play at a stranger’s wedding because of it.
And the Racket They Made
We started on a collaboration album proper late in 2006, and the initial efforts were drafted into Bombshell for 679 once we’d secured the producer’s job for Jon, and in 2008 he worked on a couple of the Flick the Vs songs.
Even with all that under our collaborative belt, I think Jon felt he hadn’t quite made a true and genuine collaboration with my voice very much to the fore, band and record label concessions very much to the aft. Two years ago he called me back to London – this time there’d be no siphoning off of our labours.
King Creosote. Photo by Steve Gullick.
How well do you think you have both managed to evoke “space, longevity and timelessness”?
As a collection of songs spanning my entire songwriting history, sung in what is undoubtedly my best recorded singing voice to date, for my part I hope that was enough to push the record away from just the period leading up to a 2011 release. There’s everything from the naive views of an impatient student right through to the cynical musings of an impatient middle aged grump. Jon’ll tell you the in & outs of the music content, but most of what you hear is acoustic guitar, accordion, piano and voices – all of them timeless instruments I’d say. Jon’s given the whole thing a fairly light and airy touch.
Longevity … Well, I should be quite a few dozen listens ahead of our most ardent fans, and I still hear brand new sounds with every listen. The tracklisting still surprises me from time to time, and the album can take an hour to pass, sometimes just a few seconds. In brief, we’ve nailed it on all three counts
How is middle age treating you? I like the way that you say you intend to make the most your “thinning hair and diet of white flour and sugar” but it can’t be all bad?
I’m enjoying middle age immensely. I’ve resigned myself to most of the physical wear and tear, but in my head it’s not as bad as when I actually see my ageing mush in a mirror. I only have to look at an Ampeg bass rig and my back starts to hurt, and so as a rule I avoid reflective surfaces and load ins.
John Taylor’s Month Away
What’s the best part about growing older?
There’s a certain smugness comes with the realisation that I was incredibly lucky to grow up in the 70s & 80s – not only had national service long ended, but we enjoyed immense freedoms. Being young in the 2010s with all these mobile phones, digital cameras, youtube, facebook and twitter sites tracking your every move has absolutely no appeal. Hahahahahahahaha! And we TREASURED records, making live gigs and the latest album releases real moments of excitement and joy.
Bubble
Some of these songs were written as long ago as 20 years and more. What did it feel like to dredge them up again? Did you experience lots of weird emotions?
I’ve re-recorded many of my songs for lots of different albums, so I’m used to it. It’s difficult to explain now just what Your Own Spell from 1988 is truly about, so I just say it’s a banal ‘be careful what you wish for’ type tale. I’ve got a better, more emotionally believable voice now than I did back then, so not so hard to get the mindset right. Thankfully there are no real happy songs on Diamond Mine – that’s the one emotion I haven’t cracked yet.
On one hand a genius from the modern age can come along and make something that sounds as good as Diamond Mine, but in general I find it a real drag and best avoided whenever possible. If technology results in a machine that drops one back into a pre-technological era, than I’m all for it. I’d punch 1974 into the dial and would probably expire in time for the millenium celebrations.
Bats in the Attic
You say that “being a dad lights the way out”. How do your family fit into the musical world? Do they join you, and do they take part in your projects in any way?
My dad, uncle, brothers and cousins are all musical, but quite different in their approach, so it doesn’t feel like competition in any way. My daughter has an incredible ear for melody and a limitless memory for lyrics – she wants to do medicine, so she didn’t get my squeamish gene. I used to play with one of my brothers – Iain – in a bluegrass outfit yonks ago, and I’ve backed up the other brother Gordon on many live sets, but as we get older, the brothers and I tend to avoid interaction with each other’s music as much as possible, and stick to comedy impersonations of our dad, clicking heels and all. I’m a bigger fan of their music than they are of mine, so that helps!
Your Young Voice
My dad recently organised an Anderson showcase for charity. It was an incredibly surreal afternoon of many different musical styles played in front of a white haired audience, so not a chance of any of it landing up on youtube. And relax.
Thankyou so much for your wonderful answers Kenny!
Diamond Mine was released in the UK a few months ago and came out in the US only recently, for sale so I hope that some of my readers will already have heard it for it is without doubt one of the most wonderful pieces of music I have heard in many years. And I don’t say that lightly. The album is a collaboration between Fife based folk singer songwriter King Creosote and Royal College of Music graduate Jon Hopkins, viagra approved who specialises in electronica.
King Creosote is the driving force behind the fabulous Fence Records collective and runs HomeGame Festival in Fife, viagra buy a cult destination for many a muso. Jon Hopkins collaborates with the likes of Coldplay and Brian Eno. Together they really have made something exceptionally special, a sprawling re-imagining of King Creosote songs from across the years, bittersweet lyrics offset with a lushly atmospheric backdrop that includes the sounds of real life. I caught up with both Kenny ‘King Creosote’ Anderson and Jon Hopkins to find out how this unique partnership came about, and what the process of making Diamond Mine was like. First up here’s Jon:
When and where did you first hear King Creosote’s music? Did you fall in love immediately or was it a slow gradual thing?
A friend of mine kept putting Kenny And Beth’s Musakal Boat Rides on at parties and stuff. It took me a while to get into, it had such a different sound to the more polished things I was used to. It grew on me quickly but it was when I first heard his much harder-to-find album Psalm Clerk that I became a massive fan.
This album was produced over a number of years… how has that process worked in reality? How many times have you managed to meet up, and are there any memorable moments from those meetings?
The album probably took about 6 or 7 weeks in total, but hugely spread out. We recorded most of the vocals in one go, then collected sounds from all over the place to build up the backdrops. We’re friends predominantly so we meet a fair few times a year, sometimes we record, sometimes we sit around talking nonsense and consuming fruit beers.
You talk about the songs tapping into the “sweet sadness” of everyday life, and I think this is the first album in so long that has made me almost want to cry. Why do you think that Kenny’s voice is so evocative? And how have you done your best to encourage those emotions he defines so well?
For me it’s something in the accent, the phrasing, the lyrics, and the fact that there aren’t any singers that sound like him. On this record I wanted to kind of build these sonic worlds for that voice to live in, if you can forgive the pretentiousness of that sentence. The crucial thing was never to add any parts that would detract from the voice.
Jon Hopkins. Photo by Steve Gullick.
Where does your female choir come from?
It is just one voice layered many times, that of Lisa Elle, who harmonises with Kenny throughout the record. I liked the idea of making her sound like a choir of sirens, in keeping with the whole seafaring thing – that is what the end section of John Taylor’s Month Away is supposed to be.
Some of the tracks feature a backdrop of normal daytime noises against which Kenny’s vocals are overlaid. Why did you decide to do this? And where were these recorded?
I liked the idea of dropping the listener into the reality of the world that these songs come from. All the field recordings are from the fishing villages in Fife around the place Kenny has spent his life. It’s a big part of the record, and is a technique I’ve been using on my own stuff for a while too.
What was the best part of visiting Kenny in Fife?
I’ve been visiting that part of the world regularly for 7 years now; Kenny and his friends organise an incredible music festival there every year, which attracts some amazing artists. Too many amazing memories to list, plus most are unprintable.
Will you and Kenny be working again, and if so what have you got planned?
We have been thinking about a follow-up, yes. No definite ideas or plans yet though. This is not a project we tend to move quickly on.
Thursday 10th May marked a first for Florence of new soulful double act Florence and the Machine; it was the first time she had ever performed alone after a curious event left her machinist Matthew Alchin bundled in a car bound for Bristol. Although admittedly daunted by the prospect of filling the mammoth Bar Music Hall with only her voice, adviceailmentFlorence sauntered through her mystically bluesy set with ease. With an engaging presence and childlike innocence, stomachFlorence traverses through tales of passion, web regret and revenge. With titles such as My Boy Builds Coffins and My Best Dress she presents herself as natural story-teller, her candid lyrics signify a vivid imagination second only to her startlingly powerful voice.
Adorably attired in a floral shirt bound at the waist and with a flick of her burnt brunette locks, Florence effortlessly commands the attention of the room, drawing a respectably large crowd to the front of the stage, emphatically pounding the floor to generate a beat: the large and airy Bar Music Hall becomes unified as a vibrant blues hall of yesteryear.
The set is short and although at times there is a sense that the song has ended a touch hastily, Florence has successfully avoided over-singing – or warbling – an irritating misjudgment often made by those with an especially strong and gifted voice (see Aguilera).
It would be an injustice to saddle her in the ranks of the recent spate of young, savvy female songwriters that have emerged over the past couple of years; Florence oozes a unique originality and charm, notably lacking the hunger for celebrity or ostensibly commercial success that many of her predecessors have pursued. However, not unlike the Nash’s and Winehouse’s of the contemporary, Florence aligns herself with the girls. She is accessible and familiar. Her tales of love lost and found, coupled with her playfulness on stage evoke a sense of a mischief akin to a young girl who has muddied her best dress. Florence is undoubtedly the star of the show but she wants us all to shine with her.
There can be no more than 15 people scattered around tonight’s venue to witness a performance of much promise from London‘s Strange Idols. Taking the stage in a rather unassuming manner, page the 5 piece promptly belt out Berlin– its breezy pop tones serving as a nice pipe opener, before the introduction of newbie Over and Over. Showcasing ambition as well as pop sensibilities, it’s all swooning choruses and chiming guitars, and it’s allowed to run its course. So far so good.
Gabby Young and Other Animals have announced their return this April with a brand new album, the third from the acclaimed North London songstress. One Foot In Front Of The Other is Gabby’s most personal collection of songs to date, yet still retains the lush big band instrumentation for which she is known, with polished production by fellow Animal and partner, Stephen Ellis. Here Gabby exclusively introduces the new video for the first single from the album, I’ve Improved, which is a jaunty upbeat affair that was inspired by a trip to the Middle East.
For the first time ever I actually had very little to do with the concept of this video… I just left it in the very safe hands of my old school friend’s company – Lovelove Films – who did our stunning video for In Your Head in 2012. I am so astounded by how well Lovelove put together this video: I gave them an almost impossible task of coming up with a video along the theme of ‘paper world’ in 3 weeks and they came through with not only flying colours but a stunning video! Right from day one I they were sending me amazing concepts and treatments which I loved then before we knew it the band was filming in the studio which was the most fun I have had on any shoot. Just over a week later they have delivered an original, exciting and completely ‘on brand’ video that I can’t wait to show the world. Thank you Lovelove – you’ve done it again… I can’t wait for the next time now!
As for the actual song – every one of my songs is written differently – some come to me, others have to be written and this track was born out of necessity! I was working on all my songs and ideas for album 3 and realised I had focused too much on the shade and wanted to have lots of light in my album to make people feel good about life, dance and escape so I when driving along I tried to write an upbeat song, which very rarely works, in fact I hate TRYING to write songs but time was against me! So I just pressed record on my phone (in the safest way possible in a car!) and started singing the chorus – it instantly came to me and then the verse tumbled out – it was a complete song by the end of my short journey. When I returned home I ran into the house, grabbed my guitar and found out I had written another 2 chord song which I have done a few of in my time but I couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for this simple, fun ditty and decided that I found my light to all the shade and here is a bonafide album track ready to go! As for the lyrics – I had just been on tour in the Middle East, which I loved and where I learnt so much, so I knew I wanted to sing about how I was improving my world knowledge and how I have been a little sheltered and it’s time to wake up and notice the world around me.
I’ve Improved and the album One Foot In Front Of The Other are both released in April on Gift of the Gab Records.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday March 7th, 2014 4:33 pm
