2020: Compilations, Reissues, & Boxes

Timely as ever, I just want to belatedly offer a few more thoughts on some of the releases added to the everythingsgonegreen music vaults across 2020. When it came to compilations, reissues, and box sets, it was a fairly heavyweight line-up.

Starting with perhaps the heaviest of them all, reputation-wise at least. Digging Deep: Subterranea, which offers a barely anticipated but very welcome 30-track Robert Plant solo career overview. One that sees the more obvious “hits” like ‘Big Log’, ‘Ship of Fools’, and ‘In The Mood’ sitting snuggly alongside a whole bunch of far less obvious stuff. And as any Plant fan will tell you, it’s the latter category where the real gems can be found. Digging Deep: Subterranea collects work from all but a couple of Plant’s post-Zepp solo releases across nearly four decades. The only notable absentee being work from the superb Alison Krauss collaborative effort, although Jimmy Page himself would surely argue that particular point. There’s three new (or previously unreleased) tracks to be found, the best of which is the Patty Griffin duet, ‘Too Much Alike’. More than anything, the album highlights what an exceptional career Plant has had. And still has.

In December 2020 the pop world found itself mourning all over again with the realisation that a whole 40 years had (or have) passed since John Lennon was so needlessly gunned down outside his NYC apartment. Naturally, without wishing to get too cynical about it all, a lot of fuss was centred around a new collection of Lennon post-Beatles work in the form of Gimme Some Truth. At 36 tracks in its deluxe form, it’s a balanced mix of his (and Yoko’s) best known material, alongside the not so well-kent stuff. I grabbed it, because I wanted to play the game, I like a bit of John, and of course I needed a long overdue companion set for my 2007 remastered version of Shaved Fish (1975). Apparently.

A far less-hyped late-in-the-year compilation release from a band that rarely put a foot wrong during its pomp of roughly a decade ago, was The Kills’ Little Bastards. Which is everything it promises to be on the tin. Rough, ready, raw and rudimentary rock n roll, across 20 tunes, the vast majority of which are hugely improved from their original form thanks to 2020 remastering. Highly recommended, and all that.

Speaking of rough and rudimentary, the long lost and I guess, very overdue, obligatory White Stripes Greatest Hits set was sitting in my collection before I even knew I needed it. Which I very much didn’t. I’m a Jack White fan, I don’t mind owning that … what else can I say? I’m also a bit of a Meg fan, if I’m being completely vulnerable and honest about everything. You’ll know all of these so-called greatest hits, or more shamefully, you might be someone who knows only ‘Seven Nation Army’. If you’re the latter, don’t sleep on this one, the White Stripes’ Greatest Hits album is here for you, not me.

Which brings me to a couple of compilations that aren’t really compilations because they appeal as being a little more niche or specific than that broad brush stroke might allow. New forms of old work:

Foals Collected Reworks Volumes 1, 2, & 3. More than four hours’ worth of the Oxford band’s finest moments reconfigured for what appears to be a rather large heavily lit dancefloor. Although it’s nowhere near as dubious as that may sound. Volume 1 is actually rather good, with serious producer-types, the likes of Hot Chip, Alex Metric, Purple Disco Machine, and Solomun, for starters, going mental on a career-spanning collection of Foals’ best stuff. In fact, Solomun’s edit of ‘Late Night’ is the stand-out track across the entire three volumes, which can all be picked up separately - as opposed to the full set I managed to snare. It is however a three volume set that falls slight victim to the law of diminishing returns. I felt a little jaded by the end. Volume 1 is probably quite enough techno-fried Foals, thank you very much, despite the best efforts of Jono Ma Jagwar Ma, Lindstrom, Mount Kimbie, and Trophy Wife on the second and third instalments. File this one away under: good to have, but not essential.

A little more essential for me, and another release that was both new material and yet not quite new material, was another intriguing instalment in David Bowie’s Changes series. This one - ChangesNowBowie - being specific to a radio special the great man recorded back in 1996. Featuring tunes like ‘The Man Who Sold The World’, ‘Aladdin Sane’, and Tin Machine’s ‘Shopping For Girls’. How much Bowie is too much Bowie? … wash your mouth out with soap. Reviewed here.

Reissues and deluxe sets: yet more heavyweight carry-on.

I’m probably preaching to the converted here, but New Order’s Power Corruption and Lies deluxe reissue, and Joy Division’s 40th anniversary edition of Closer proved irresistible additions, even though I’m sure I already have both albums in their original form somewhere. Maybe even on cassette. The key thing worth noting about each work is the way these albums made a mockery of the age-old “difficult second album” cliché. Of the two, I think the New Order release was the best value for money, if indeed deluxe releases are ever really value for money, with an Extras disc featuring those pesky non-album singles and previously unreleased versions of many of the album cuts.

Another landmark album celebrating its 40th anniversary in 2020 with a multiple disc deluxe edition, and yet another release I didn’t really need but couldn’t resist, was Ultravox’s Vienna, the highlight of which was the “Rarities” disc featuring early versions (‘Sleepwalk’), soundcheck versions, the single version of ‘Vienna’, the 12-inch version of ‘All Stood Still’, and a bunch of live takes (at St Albans City Hall and The Lyceum) from the year of its release. Some of this stuff is incredible to listen to again, and a timely reminder of just how special Ultravox was during its pomp.

Ditto Depeche Mode, of course, and somewhat by accident, more by crook than hook, I managed to pick up a copy of the Violator 12-inch singles box set. Multiple versions of ‘Personal Jesus’, ‘Enjoy The Silence’, ‘Policy of Truth’, and ‘World In My Eyes’, plus all of the associated b-sides … 29 tracks all up, including a dizzying 15 and a half minute ‘The Quad: Final Mix’ version of ‘Enjoy The Silence’ (phew).

An eight-volume deluxe set of Prince’s Sign of The Times, anyone? Probably unnecessary, but wow … the quality of the material he didn’t release when he was alive is all the testimony needed, if ever needed, for indisputable proof of Prince’s sheer genius. Or his commitment to his art. Or his perfectionist stance on releasing music. I found more than a few hidden gems modestly tucked away amongst the 90-plus (count em) tracks included on this deluxe set of an album I’d always previously (wrongly) regarded as being slightly inferior to Parade. I'm quite sure Parade didn’t have this many quality cast-asides, but that may yet remain to be seen. Just wow.

Last, and probably least, to be fair, a Bandcamp name-your-price I picked up was Pitch Black’s Electronomicon Live, which was essentially a prelude to the first ever vinyl release of the duo’s fantastic second album, Electronomicon, which celebrated its 20th birthday in 2020. As difficult as it might be today to process the fact that the relatively DJ/club-friendly original album had never previously been the beneficiary of a vinyl release, the live version - with tracks sourced from hours and hours of DAT tapes/live recordings from the era - stood up pretty well I thought.

Right, we’re nearly there, albeit weeks after the fact, I’ve got just one more 2020 retrospective blogpost to come, one that looks at the best EPs I picked up during the year.

2020: Close, But No Cigar

I realise I’m a bit late to be casting a beady eye all the way back to 2020, but given the retro-centric nature of everythingsgonegreen, any blogpost covering work from this century might very well be considered an unexpected bonus. Being timely, current, and relevant has never really been this blog’s thing. If you’re here, you probably already know that.

I’ve already looked at my ten “most played” or favourite new album purchases of 2020 (here), but I also want to share a few thoughts on those that made the “close, but no cigar” list … albums I picked up, enjoyed, but for whatever reason didn’t quite make the final “albums of 2020” list.

I’ll start with a couple of homegrown efforts that could easily have made the cut for that list alongside the four local albums that did. Two albums that sat well beyond the mainstream Kiwi pop saturation point that gave us commercial behemoths like Six60, Benee, and L.A.B. as key local industry flagbearers in 2020. As so often, the best local stuff tended to fly well beneath the radar of fans of the aforementioned. Which is a shame … and probably not really a shame at all.

Darren Watson’s Getting Sober For the End of the World came very close to making the cut, but it just came down to the fact that I drew the line at a strict ten. I completely get why a few of the more learned local scribes were quite happy to label the album as his best ever, and it was yet another top-notch effort from the country’s foremost exponent of the blues and roots music.

Tauranga-Auckland pop-rock outfit The Leers returned in 2020 with an (album-length) EP called The Only Way Out Is In, which was recorded in Los Angeles in late 2019, before being given legs ahead of this year’s summer festival circuit. It revealed a softer, more chart-friendly (and crucially, festival-ready) sound, and I was pretty hooked on it for a few weeks late on in the year.

 Elsewhere, Bob Dylan’s Rough and Rowdy Ways got a lot of love, and the old fella keeps coming up with new ways to remain relevant. I’ve always been a little bit hot and cold on Dylan; I absolutely love a handful of Dylan albums, but given that he’s released dozens upon dozens of albums across a 60-year timeframe, loving a “handful” probably doesn’t equate to fully paid-up fandom. Rough and Rowdy Ways was chock full of Dylan signature moments, but mostly it appealed for the way its seemingly effortless stream-of-consciousness narrative kept finding raw nerves to twist and tweak.

Only slightly younger than Bob, the ever reliable and always relatable Paul Weller came up with yet another top set in the form of On Sunset. Weller is a living legend, there’s no two ways about it, and On Sunset contained little slices of all of the many styles that Weller has thrown at us across the past four decades (and more). Rock, soul, pastoral folk, plus rhythm and blues. A genuine hybrid. Weller shows no sign of slowing down whatsoever.

I’m a big alt-80s nut. That goes without saying. Yet I somehow managed to miss everything that Dutch darkwave/goth merchants Clan of Xymox released during what might be called their peak years. I put that right last year when I picked up a copy of the 2020 album Spider On The Wall, which turned out to be a revelation, and the album got a lot of my ear-time during the year. I’ll have a dig back through the band’s extensive back catalogue to see what else I’ve missed.

Kruder and Dorfmeister’s 1995 was one of my rare CD purchases during the year. Brand new, yet somewhat ancient in that it was a collection of tunes that only ever previously saw the light of day on an (unreleased/pre-release) white label some 25 years ago. Discarded and only recently rediscovered by a duo not exactly renowned for being especially prolific since their mid-to-late 90s heyday. Whilst it doesn’t in any way scale the heights of K&D’s best stuff like Sessions (1998) - not much does, after all - I reckon there’s enough on 1995 to satisfy fans, with snippets of that trademark plush/warm production aesthetic they’ll all be very familiar with. It just seemed so appropriate that I got this one on CD, via mail order.

 When I compiled the blog’s albums of 2019 list, I bemoaned the fact that Angel Olsen’s All Mirrors was a relatively late arrival on my radar and I perhaps hadn’t given it enough attention. Oddly enough, I got that chance in 2020 when a heavily reconfigured version was released under the guise of Whole New Mess. Effectively a stripped-back variation on tracks originally found on All Mirrors, I downloaded a copy of Whole New Mess and it once again sat there in my “must listen to” folder for far too long before I got to it. But I heard enough to know it was exceptional, and I’ll be returning to Olsen again soon. I think.

As ever, Polish dub artist Radikal Guru released his latest album, Beyond The Borders, near the end of the year. He’s got form for this sort of thing - by my reckoning this is the fourth time he’s released stuff right on the cusp of the calendar change. That hasn’t stopped three of those albums featuring on my year-end “best of” lists in the past. Not this time though. I picked up Beyond The Borders far too late to give it sufficient digestion time so it missed the cut. I may (or may not) give it a full review in the coming weeks. I’m a big fan of his stuff and I’ve listened to Beyond The Borders a fair bit already in 2021.

The Heaven and Earth Association album 4849:1 was perhaps the most pleasant surprise of 2020. In a year full of too many unpleasant surprises. I wrote a little bit about it here.

There were only a handful more album purchases, none of them especially memorable, and all reviewed on the blog; Moby’s All Visible Objects, Tame Impala’s The Slow Rush, and Pet Shop Boys’ Hotspot.

But wait … we’re not out of the 2020 woods quite just yet. I’ve got a bunch of compilations and reissues, plus a bumper set of EPs, that I haven’t ticked off yet.

Albums of 2020

It’s time for the annual wrap of the best new albums added to your blogger’s collection this year. There’s been a few, but I’ll choose ten for this post, and then take a look at the best of the rest, compilations/reissues, and EPs in a series of separate posts as we enter the new year. This is not so much a “best of” 2020, because I’ve no doubt I’ve missed many of the actual best albums, but more of a personal “most-listened-to” list. As ever, the only prerequisite for inclusion is that I picked up a copy of the album during the year (in any format), which does, admittedly, rule out a good number of decent albums I merely preview-streamed via Spotify and failed to follow through with.

10. The Beths - Jump Rope Gazers

2020 saw Auckland indie-pop nerds The Beths consolidate their reputation as one of the best young bands in the country. A fact confirmed when they picked up three gongs at the annual Aotearoa Music Awards. Sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers wasn’t dramatically different from the band’s debut, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. My full review is here.

9. The Phoenix Foundation - Friend Ship

Five years on from the release of Give Up Your Dreams, which for me was something close to a career high watermark for The Phoenix Foundation (and an album rated number two on this blog’s year-end list for 2015), Wellington’s most eclectic pop collective returned with Friend Ship. And while it didn’t quite scale the lofty heights of GUYD, or earlier work like Horsepower, Pegasus, or Buffalo, it was another great set from a bunch of guys who continue to poke away at boundaries without compromising their core sound. On Friend Ship we got everything from elaborate orchestral stuff - see collaborations with the NZSO - to odd psychedelic moments, proggy flavours, and more snippets of humour than you can shake a funny cigarette at. But mostly we got crafty intelligent pop music dressed in a variety of threads, and the collaborations with Hollie Fullbrook (‘Decision Dollars’, ‘Tranquility’) and Nadia Reid (‘Hounds of Hell’) were outstanding. I also really loved the pomp and swagger of ‘Guru’, the scene-setting album opener. Oddly though, given that it was one of the more high profile album takeaways, and clearly loved elsewhere, I was less taken by the faux-disco of ‘Landline’, which for me veered beyond pastiche and into the realm of just plain cheesy. But then, I’ve always struggled with irony, and it wouldn’t be a proper Phoenix Foundation album if there wasn’t at least one track that left me scratching my head. Not reviewed on the blog.

8. Murmur Tooth - A Fault in This Machine

I was heavily invested in this one during our autumn lockdown period. In my original review (here), I called it the most uneasy listening “easy listening” album you’re likely to hear all year, and nothing happened to change that view. I loved it.

7. Alicia Keys - Alicia

I’m a fan of pure unadulterated pop music, and although Alicia Keys is not usually an artist I’d necessarily gravitate towards, Alicia was an album for the ages. Socially conscious, empowering, and life affirming. My review is here.

6. Nadia Reid - Out of My Province

How could any local not love an album that opens with the line “you took me to Levin”? ... for the uninitiated, Levin is a small soulless market town, about an hour’s drive north of Wellington in New Zealand’s lower North Island, and a million miles removed from any of the romance implied on Nadia Reid’s album opener ‘All of my Love’. And coincidently, a town not a million miles away from where your blogger resides. Anyway, it’s that sense of “us” that first attracted me to Reid’s work as long ago as her Preservation album (of 2017) after overlooking far too much of her early stuff. Out of my Province was probably the biggest “grower” of this year’s bunch. After the first couple of listens I concluded it was all a bit too beige and “generic folky”, but I stuck with it, and as time passed I became far better acquainted with all of its many hidden charms. In fact, although it is only number six on this list, Out of My Province was probably the album I listened to more than any other across the full year. It just wasn’t my ultimate favourite. It helped that it was so workplace (office) compliant and I was able to spend a lot of time with it. Best cuts: ‘Best Thing’, and the silver scroll-nominated ‘Get the Devil Out of Me’. Not reviewed on the blog, which is perhaps just as well, because I feel very differently about it today than I did when I first picked it up.

5. Matt Berninger - Serpentine Prison

Another genuine grower, after curiosity got the better of me. I mean, a Matt Berninger (The National) solo work in collaboration with the great Booker T. Jones, what could possibly go wrong? Not much, evidently. My review is here.

4. The Orb - Abolition of the Royal Familia

An all new intoxicating blend of disco, deep house, ambient electronica, and skanky dub. New Orb, just like old Orb, and if there was a track that summed up the post-apocalyptic nature of 2020 better than album closer ‘Slave Till U Die No Matter What U Buy’, which appropriates Jello Biafra’s ‘Message From Our Sponsor’ spoken-word narrative, then I didn’t hear it. My review is here.

3. The War on Drugs - Live Drugs

Given that I’m going to do a blog year-in-review write-up specifically on compilations and reissues, I was tempted to save this one for that piece. A live album is a compilation by default, right? Um, I guess, but Live Drugs was just too good to ignore and there were a few occasions late in the year when I had this on repeat, so it has to qualify on my most-listened-to list instead. Way more than the sum of its parts, the album is essentially a collection of live extracts from a bunch of different gigs played in support of the band’s two most recent - and most commercially successful - albums, Lost in the Dream (2014) and A Deeper Understanding (2017). Yet it plays like it could all have been recorded at the same gig. The flow, the feels, and sense that this was, or is, a band right at the top of its game. It’s a virtual live “greatest hits”, with eight of the ten tracks coming from those two albums, including seven singles, while there’s one very early TWOD offering, ‘Buenos Aires Beach’, and a fairly choice Warren Zevon cover ‘Accidentally Like A Martyr’. I’ve never been able to put my finger on exactly what appeals most about The War on Drugs; all those classic rock touchstones - big keys, harmonica breaks, and lengthy guitar solos - and all that big Springsteen-esque Americana would usually be enough to have me reaching for the industrial-strength Nurofen, yet somehow it works. There’s some truly epic moments on Live Drugs, and highlights include wonderful versions of ‘Pain’, ‘Red Eyes’, ‘Thinking of a Place’, and ‘Under The Pressure’. No blog review.

2. Antipole - Perspectives II

If I’m going to break unwritten but notional blog rules by including live albums, then I simply have to throw in this remix album, which revisits tunes from Antipole’s 2019 album, Radial Glare. It’s a sister release for the Anglo-Norwegian dark-wavers to Perspectives (which topped this list in 2018), and it was another regular go-to album for me during the autumn lockdown period. My review is here.

1. Fontaines D.C. - A Hero’s Death

I was very slow on the uptake when it came to Fontaines D.C., somehow missing all of the initial hype surrounding the band’s debut album Dogrel (2019), before being seduced into complete and utter submission by the sheer post-punk majesty of this year’s follow-up, A Hero’s Death. I had to chuckle when I read the band’s claim in the NME, upon completion of the album in late 2019, that it “was inspired by the Beach Boys”. Yeah, only if the Beach Boys had been raised on the rain-swept streets of Dublin, consumed Guinness for breakfast, dressed entirely in black, and listened to nothing but the Velvet Underground. This is post-punk 101, 2020-style. A state-of-the-art example of raw, gritty rock n roll, propelled by big basslines, weighty guitars, and a vocalist with a thick booming Irish accent to die for. Which is more than enough, but what really gives A Hero’s Death its next level heft is its clever and artful collection of lyrics. Songs packed full of urgency, insight, irony, and humour. There’s no filler here, and tracks like ‘Televised Mind’, ‘I Don’t Belong’, ‘A Lucid Dream’, and the title track itself, would all be fully legit contenders for any notional eveythingsgonegreen tune of the year.

If there was such a thing. For now, I’ll stick to album reckons. And I’ve got no valid excuse for not giving A Hero’s Death the full review treatment on the blog. Of the ten albums covered here, four are local releases, yet I could just as easily have included a couple more (not least Darren Watson’s Getting Sober release) and I thought it was a pretty good year for homegrown stuff. More on that in my next post.

The flip side to that of course is that it was a terrible year for the local live music scene. With Covid-19, closed borders, lockdowns, and social distancing in effect for large chunks of 2020, quality live gigs were hard to come by. I can’t even really present a decent case for a gig of the year, given I attended so few. I guess it has to be The Beths at Wellington’s San Fran in October, pretty much by default. And I suppose if there was one positive to emerge from a lack of overseas touring acts, it was that local artists got more opportunities to shine as headliners when our nightlife did finally spring back into life mid-year.

Anyway, I’ll have a few more reflections on an extraordinary year over the next few weeks when I take a look at the best of the rest (albums), the best compilations and reissues, and even a post on the remarkable number of great EPs I managed to pick up during the year. In the meantime, be gone 2020. Don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out …

Album Review: Matt Berninger - Serpentine Prison (2020)

I’m pretty big fan of The National, so picking up a copy of Matt Berninger’s first full-length solo sojourn was always going to be a bit of a no brainer for me. Berninger’s baritone vocals have long been one of the most attractive features of The National’s work, so naturally I was curious to see how he would fare without the rest of the band …

The first thing to note is that Serpentine Prison is a genuine “solo album”, as opposed to being something additional from The National under another guise. Only bass player Scott Devendorf (from the band) contributes to Berninger’s project, and even then, he plays bass on just two of the album’s ten tracks.

That’s not to say there’s not some heavyweight help on hand in the form of Booker T. Jones (yes, *that* Booker T.) who produces, arranges, and offers a deft hand on Hammond organ and electric piano. There’s also Bowie-collaborator - amongst many other things - Gail Ann Dorsey, who assists with vocals (and bass), renowned multi-instrumentalist Andrew Bird who plays violin on five tracks, and a subtle brass masterclass at various points from Kyle Resnick (trumpet) and Ben Lanz (trombone). The wider contributions of Walter Martin of The Walkmen (various) and Harrison Whitford (guitars, including slide and steel) should not be overlooked either.

Little wonder then, that purely from a musical perspective, in terms of instrumentation and execution, Serpentine Prison is something close to perfect. Everything is beautifully crafted, nothing is out of place, with exactly the right amount of musical weight applied to these (mostly) gentle introspective songs. Which naturally, thankfully, brings out the best in them.

Because if I was to assess the worth of this album on the strength of Berninger’s song writing or lyricism alone, I’m not sure it would stack up quite so well. Like much of The National’s work over the past decade or so, the main themes of Berninger’s writing centre around heartbreak, relationships, and the complexities of the human condition. Which is all fine and well, but it does, over the course of ten tracks and 40-odd minutes, start to feel somewhat maudlin, and it does perhaps veer towards self-flagellation at various points. But of course, his vocals are as pristine as ever, and his voice does, after all, lend itself well to that sort of material.

Mostly though, without wanting to get too picky about it, it is a superb album. Albeit the sort of work you need to be in exactly the right frame of mind for. The sort of contemplative or reflective mood I often find myself wallowing in … so it does work for me.

Oh, and Booker T. Jones, no less!

Highlights: ‘Distant Axis’, ‘One More Second’, the Dorsey-featuring ‘Silver Springs’, ‘Take Me Out of Town’, ‘All For Nothing’ and the title track, which closes the album. A fairly big chunk of it, in fact.

Album Review: Natacha Atlas - Strange Days (2019)

Craig Stephen steps beyond the blog’s comfort zone to share some thoughts on Natacha Atlas’s latest album …

Strange Days: now wasn’t that an album by The Doors?

Indeed it was, and you can but wonder if Atlas was referencing the title of Morrison et al’s second album when she set off on her latest musical journey. But these are far stranger times than the world was in 1967, where the summer of love was a sweet memory by the time The Doors’ second album came out, and the two words have almost become a byword for a world in which populism and environmental destruction are now part of the lexicon. 

Atlas has a fascinating background, where East meets West: British and Egyptian parents and being brought up in Belgium. She is multilingual, and crucially multi-talented, with stints in Transglobal Underground and Jah Wobble’s Invaders of the Heart.

For her 15^th solo work - a double album - Atlas dips into jazz and maintains her background in Middle Eastern music.

 The first time I heard Atlas as a solo artist was on an EP covering the James Bond film theme ‘You Only Live Twice’, giving it a whole new dimension. So it seems appropriate that Atlas here returns to the 60s and another notable item from the era: James Brown’s ‘It’s A Man’s World’. It’s fitting that such a song has a feminine voice to give it credence, and Atlas’s version supplies that first-party emphasis.

On an album sung in both English and Arabic, the opening track, ‘Out of Time’, mixes the two, breaking with the universal tongue but, after some jazz-style solo play, Atlas switches to her father’s vernacular to immense effect. As the song segues into ‘Maktoub’ Atlas now fully focuses on Arabic, which she has always made sound equivocal.

Soul star Joss Stone appears on ‘Words of a King’ - which was released as a single - and this is likely to attract diverging opinions for fans of both artists. From the point of view of this writer it lacks the poise of the album and is a humdrum exoteric duet in which the voices complement each other but don’t have the spark that’s required for a truly great team-up.

The man very much involved in this work is Samy Bishai, who as well as claiming co-composer credits for much of the material here, arranged all the music. Utilising a string quartet and a jazz quintet, Bishai creates a sound world in tune with Atlas’s unique delivery and delicate tonal inflections. This is obvious on ‘Lost Revolutions’ at the end of side three, a truly monumental atmospheric track with the singer at her most haunting as she laments the general failure of the Arab Spring, and in particular the one in Egypt where hope has now mutated into fear and repression.

As the title suggests, it’s an album that’s never quite what it appears and contains plenty of mystery. The music is gentle and intimate, yet highly charged with emotion, melding disparate musical elements from Western and Middle Eastern influences. It may not appeal to the jazz or world music purist but this is an album that essentially transcends labels and is a great example of fusion.

Album Review: Alicia Keys - Alicia (2020)

As I get older I find I’m getting more entrenched in my listening habits, always reaching for the tried and trusted, and all too readily dismissing the musical styles or genres I have no real affinity for. In short, placing self-imposed boundaries on the stuff I’m willing to expose myself to.

There’s a multitude of reasons not to listen to modern R&B … not least autotune, commercial radio saturation, and a wider sense that today’s sounds bear little relation to those heard during the genre’s 1960s/1970s heyday - think of legendary artists like Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross. 

Alicia Keys, however, is not one of those reasons. In fact, as things stand in 2020, she might just be the saviour of the genre. 

While I have no doubt many tunes from Keys’ latest album, Alicia, will have been subjected to that pesky commercial radio saturation thing - with seven singles lifted from it so far - I was hugely relieved, possibly even thrilled, to discover that there is very little autotune (a pet hate) on the album. If any at all. 

And it strikes this old greybeard that sure enough, much of it appeals as an authentic and genuine throwback to the aforementioned halcyon days of R&B and soul. One day in the not-too-distant future, we will surely rank Keys right up there with the likes of Gaye and Ross. If she’s not there already. It isn’t always the case that “things were way better in the old days”. 

Put simply, Alicia is a superb album. Full of quality tunes, powerful socially conscious lyrics, and even those radio-friendly hooks don’t grate too much. It’s full of life-affirming positivity, introspection, and self-empowerment. All good things. And a solid supporting cast, with names like Jill Scott, Sampha, Khalid, and Miguel all contributing at various points. 

It takes something quite special to bring a confirmed sceptic who sits well beyond Keys’ regular target demographic into the fold. But Alicia is *that* good. Universal and broad in appeal. Widescreen and inclusive. 

During a year full of (mostly extremely downbeat) surprises, this was one of the better ones. And the fact that your blogger is going on record to throw praise at an album that sits within a genre he usually avoids like the plague itself, only goes to show what a topsy-turvy world it is. 

Need further proof but don’t necessarily want to listen to the whole album? … try these tracks: ‘Underdog’, ‘Good Job’, ‘Time Machine’, ‘Jill Scott’, and ‘Wasted Energy’. But really, do listen to the whole thing. Even you might be surprised.

Terrorball's No Panzers No Peace

I’ve been following the work of Hamilton electro producer Terrorball (aka Gareth Pemberton) for a number of years. Over the past decade he’s been relatively prolific in releasing stuff on platforms like Soundcloud and Bandcamp. Not only his own original work but also edits and reworks of other material. Most of it issued as either a free download or as a name-your-price release. In 2016, he was even kind enough to help fill in a few gaps for us when completing a short Q & A for the blog (here).

The latest Terrorball work, No Panzers No Peace, was released online earlier this month and it’s one of his best efforts yet. It's mostly the tried and trusted hybrid of electro-funk and disco, but in the form of tracks like ‘Goblins’ and closer ‘Daydream’, there are perhaps a few surprises on offer for those familiar with past Terrorball output. Not least for the way they deviate into a far more reflective or melancholic guitar-pop realm. Check it out by streaming or downloading below:

Album Review: Darren Watson - Getting Sober For The End Of The World (2020)

I’m not sure I want to be sober for the end of the world. I’m not even sure I want to be sober. But that’s one hell of an album title, and given everything else that’s been going on around us in 2020, you might be surprised to learn that Wellington bluesman Darren Watson had locked in that title for his latest album long before we were lumbered with any of this pre-apocalyptic global Covid-19 saga. 

It’s probably fair to say this album has been one of the more difficult releases of Watson’s long career. It’s been a bit of a process. From the initial Pledge Me rallying cry in November 2019, which heralded an “early to mid-2020” release date for Getting Sober For The End Of The World, through a prolonged lockdown period as tracks were recorded and mastered, right up until this week’s release date, Watson has been hard at work, piecing it all together without any real certainty of outcome or timing. And yet, somehow, despite all of those very real challenges, it arrived perfectly formed, fastidiously crafted, and bearing all of Watson’s trademark attention to detail. And, let’s face it, you’d need to be sober to make any of that happen, surely. Fair play.

I’ve already seen a few early reviews from learned scribes suggesting that Getting Sober is Watson’s best work yet. With just a few listens under my belt before writing this, I’m less keen to go that far … for now. After all, the bar was set awfully high after 2018’s Too Many Millionaires. 

What I will say is that this album adopts a very similar approach to Millionaires, which was a far more stripped back variation on blues and soul than a lot of his earlier work. What worked there, works well again. Watson’s ever-maturing voice and gat-work again take centre stage, but a few of the same players are back to help out, most notably - without really wanting to single anyone out - Terry Casey, who adds an harmonica masterclass to several (of the nine) tracks. 

Album centrepiece ‘Ernie Abbott’ is a stand-out. One of Watson’s best ever tracks. More than just a story about an unsolved murder, it’s a heartfelt, if forlorn, plea for justice. A sobering reminder of one of this country’s worst and more gutless acts of domestic terrorism. A fitting tribute to the every-day working class ordinary bloke who goes about his daily business barely noticed. There but for the grace of God etc … 

Watson’s penchant for including local covers continues – this time we get ‘Love That I Had’, penned by fellow Wellington musician Matt Hay. There’s also Robert Johnson’s ‘Preachin’ Blues (Up Jumped The Devil)’, which acts as an ideal album closer. My own favourite track so far, just for the little bit of grime added to the vocal mix, is ‘Broken’, which simply oozes authenticity and stylish execution. 

I’m a little gutted I’m going to miss Watson’s album promo gig at San Fran this week. Wrong day, wrong part of the world for me. I was all set for another Paekakariki date with Watson before the most recent round of Covid-19 restrictions somewhat prematurely put paid to that idea. Another night then, but in the meantime, I can raise a sneaky glass to Getting Sober For The End Of The World. 

You can pick up a copy of the album here.

Depeche Mode's Violator Box

Keen Depeche Mode fans will have been following the band’s very methodical and expansive 12-inch singles reissue series. I use the word “following”, because only the most cash-flush fans will be buying. There’s “keen” and then there’s “keen”. And then there’s another word beyond “keen” for those fans prepared to buy stuff they probably already own in one format or another. But you know … vinyl, nostalgia, collectors, and completists, there’s really no accounting for the lengths some fans will go to in order to scratch an itch.

Basically, each single from the band’s extensive archives forms part of a vinyl box set depending on which album the single originated from. So there’s a box set for Speak & Spell singles, a box set for A Broken Frame singles, and so on and so on. If you’re anything like me, you’ll have already recognised the need to be selective about what you buy, sans a lotto win or the desire to take out another mortgage. Which brings me nicely to the Violator box which arrived in July. 

Violator is without question the band’s finest moment. Depeche Mode’s masterpiece. I’d argue it all day. And have done so many times. The singles extracted from the album were ‘Personal Jesus’, ‘Enjoy The Silence’, ‘Policy of Truth’, and ‘World In My Eyes’. But the box contains ten 12-inch singles, because you don’t just get the four 12-inch versions and the associated b-sides, you get a whole bunch of remixed material as well … in this case, a total of 29 tracks and a full three hours of Depeche Mode (across the ten singles). 

There’s four different versions of ‘Personal Jesus’, SEVEN different versions of ‘Enjoy The Silence’ – including the 15-and-a-half-minute ‘The Quad: Final Mix’, which features a number of producers including Adrian Sherwood and Tim Simenon – four versions of ‘Policy of Truth’, and four mixes of ‘World In My Eyes’. Plus of course, those b-sides: a couple of mixes of ‘Dangerous’, and three versions of (‘World’ flip) ‘Happiest Girl’, plus many others.

Those adding additional studio fairy dust include Mute Records boss Daniel Miller (naturally), Flood, and Francois Kevorkian, to name only the most prolific among the many involved.

It begs the question – how much Depeche Mode is too much Depeche Mode? … I can’t answer that either, but if you have to be selective and have enough cash to splurge on just one box in the ongoing series, I’m fairly certain this is the one to grab.

You can have a look at what is available in the series (so far) by scrolling down on this link (click here) ... if you dare.

Here’s the ‘Dangerous’ Sensual Mix … ‘Dangerous’ being the original b-side to ‘Personal Jesus’ and an instant Mode classic in its own right:

Electronomicon Live

20 years ago this week, local electro-dub duo Pitch Black released Electronomicon, a follow-up album to the landmark Futureproof release of a few years earlier. To celebrate the anniversary, Pitch Black have released live versions of six tracks featuring on the album, issuing the set as a name-your-price download on Bandcamp. Here’s the blurb:

Just under 20 years ago, on the 7th September 2000 to be precise, our second album "Electronomicon" was released by Kog Transmissions in New Zealand. 

To celebrate this milestone we dug deep into our archives to find recordings of our live shows from the time. After listening to hours and hours and hours and hours of DAT tapes, we've selected a live version of each of the tracks from the album and are happy to present "Electronomicon Live" for your listening pleasure. 

Very sadly we couldn't find anything from the release tour with Shapeshifter, Salmonella Dub Soundsystem and DJ Automatic, which is a shame as it was one of our most enjoyable live experiences, being the first time that we had full creative control of the whole look and feel of each show. 

As we think the audio quality of the recordings we did find doesn't quite match up to those we found for "Futureproof Live", we've decided to make this collection available on a pay as you want basis. 

Later this month we'll be releasing "Electronomicon" on vinyl for the first time. 

EP Review: Dub Empire - Beyond High (2020)

Dub Empire’s Beyond High is yet another great release from the Original Dub Gathering digital platform - a browsing destination which has become something of a “go to” for me when seeking out fresh dub flavours. It’s a five track EP from a Belgian production duo I otherwise know very little about, but it's the sort of impressive sampler that has convinced me to dig deeper and explore further. Not to be confused with Dub Empire Sound, which from all accounts is an entirely different production outfit, despite possessing a very similar MO.

Beyond High is a bassy excursion into state-of-the-art electro dub, drenched with higher-bpm techno sensibilities and Eastern/world music vibes. The title track is absolutely the jewel here and we get two versions - the original mix which opens proceedings, and the UZUL acid-fried remix which closes out the EP. They're the bookends, but everything sandwiched in the middle is not too shabby either. 

Grab a copy of the album from Original Dub Gathering (here) or stream below.

When Did Things Become So So-So?

Joe Sampson is best known for his work with Salad Boys, T54, and the Dance Asthmatics, but he’s also not shy about venturing solo when the occasion demands.

One such recent occasion being the enforced Covid-19 lockdown period, when Sampson was left to his own devices, or in this case, a device better known as the ever trusty MicroKorg XL, which he used to compose and produce an album of quirky retro-fuelled instrumental tracks. Ten of them, collectively spanning less than 25 minutes, most with cryptic long-winded titles, the best of which is the infectious opener ‘This Has Been An Issue For As Long As I Can Remember’.

But they’ve all got something about them, and I’ve been really enjoying this barely noticed gem of a release.

Buy the cassette (yes, cassette), stream, or download (name your price) from the link below.

Album Review: The Beths - Jump Rope Gazers (2020)

According to the opening gambit on Jump Rope Gazers, Elizabeth Stokes and her band are not getting excited. But perhaps they should be. Since the release of their debut EP, Warm Blood back in 2016, it’s been one high watermark after another for The Beths.

That release was followed by a well-received full-length debut outing, sold out national tours, international touring and supports (pre-lockdown), and, um, a Christmas single. All arriving with rave reviews from the heavyweight likes of Rolling Stone, Pitchfork, and a raft of other publications. Plenty there to be getting excited about, surely.

Having said that, the formula applied on Jump Rope Gazers is not vastly different to that found on those earlier releases, which, depending on your starting point, is either a very good thing, or a defiant act of gross negligence. A poke in the eye to those critics who believe pop artists are duty bound to offer some sign of real, perceived, or mythical “progression” on each and every release. 

Me? ... I’m not so fussed about any of that. The Beths have stuck with what they know, what they do best, what works, and the important thing is, they’ve done it very well. It turns out that “difficult second album” was not so difficult after all.

So that means we get a procession of fuzzy power pop tunes, and the sense that the band are still having fun together, despite all of the challenges and pressures that invariably come with life on the road (pre-Covid). It’s a super strong set, and very consistent, with no one single track standing out above any of the others. Which is always a good sign for the longer-term durability of any release.

There are a few tunes here that will doubtlessly shine much brighter in a live setting; the title track appeals as an ideal live singalong, and I can already see cuts like ‘Do You Want Me Now’ and ‘Don’t Go Away’, in particular, going down a storm when I catch the band on stage in my neighbourhood next month, at the first of three sold-out gigs at Wellington’s San Fran.

All of that said, I feel compelled to leave you with the words of another local reviewer, Alex Behan, who reviewed Jump Rope Gazers immediately upon its release a few weeks ago. Without wishing to detract from the key roles played by the rest of the band, especially that of guitarist Jonathan Pearce, I thought Behan nailed the band’s nerdy appeal with these words:

“The Beths’ not so secret weapon stands shyly centre stage. Elizabeth Stokes harnesses insecurity and doubt, turns it into witty, self-deprecating poetry, then wraps it up in uplifting, positively exuberant guitar pop.”

Almost perfect.

EP Review: International Badboys Inc. - CCOI (2020)

International Badboys Inc. might well be an all boy band. I don’t really know. That is a very boy band-sounding name after all, conjuring up actual recall of an awful but mercifully short-lived mid 90s UK-based boy band called Bad Boys Inc. These guys sound nothing like a boy band.

Bandcamp informs me that International Badboys Inc. is a band – or possibly a solo artist – from Seoul, South Korea, the home of that much-loved global pop phenomenon known as K-Pop. These guys (or guy, even) sound nothing like a K-Pop band either.

What I can tell you for certain, is that this 7-track mini-album, CCOI, released in March of this year in digital form on Bandcamp only (as a name your price), is well worth your time if you’re a fan, as I am, of coldwave, lightweight goth, or 80s-flecked post-punk. Seven short sharp bursts of aural pleasure. Stripped back to tight drum/bass and Cure-esque guitar.

I especially love some of the humour on offer – on tracks like ‘Refrigerator Breeding Project’, and on the hilarious opening track ‘Elementary Loser’, which is based on the premise of a 20-year-old repeating second grade for 15 years because of a crush on a teacher … “you’re just not trying hard enough” … second grade for life!

Stream or pick up a download here:

Album Review: The Orb - Abolition of the Royal Familia (2020)

The Orb keep on keeping on. Keep on delivering. Perhaps more than any other 90s electronic dance music pioneer. Not always without some level of sonic compromise, but always ensuring the quality control filter remains sufficiently high.

Collaborators and co-conspirators, both within and outside of the project’s inner sanctum, have come and gone, but key man Alex Paterson has been one constant throughout the project’s 30-year-plus evolution. 

Paterson’s capacity for fruitful collaboration is again to the fore on this latest Orb release, and along with current primary partner in crime, Michael Rendall, Abolition of the Royal Familia features heavyweight contributions from electronic scene veterans like Steve Hillage, Roger Eno (Brian’s bro), Youth, David Harrow, Gaudi, and most notably on ‘Daze’, vocalist Andy Caine. 

The music itself is an expansive journey into disco, deep house, Floydian ambience, dub, and sampling. There’s politics, humour, plus hybrid themes of a post-apocalyptic nature, including on-point use of Jello Biafra’s spoken word ‘Message From Our Sponsor’ on the particularly poignant closer, ‘Slave Till U Die No Matter What U Buy’. 

All tracks have relatively long-winded “remix” tags in their respective titles, presumably to help differentiate them, eventually, from any yet-to-be-released alternative mixes that may or may not be destined to follow. But they’re all brand new tracks, and simply calling each “the original mix” is hardly very Orb-like is it? 

More generally, Abolition of the Royal Familia captures the essence of Paterson’s long-held commitment to a cross pollination of dance music styles, and it’s a no-skip listen from start to finish. Pretty much everything you’d expect from a new Orb album in 2020. 

Aside from the aforementioned tracks, both of which are doozies, my own favourites here are the dubbier numbers, ‘Say Cheese’, and the “too blessed to be stressed” mix of ‘Ital Orb’.

EP Review: Art-X & The Roots Addict - Polarity (2020)

Issued on the Original Dub Gathering imprint, Polarity is another fine mini album or EP-length release from French melodica maestro Art-X, and another collaboration with the Roots Addict. It follows on from their equally impressive Under Mi Kulcha joint release of a few years back. 

Polarity consists of six tracks, all being instrumental (voiceover samples aside), and all being resplendent in a skanky roots reggae style. Which means copious amounts of melodica, bass, vintage keys, and earthy guitar tones. 

The best tracks are opener 'Origin', plus 'The Smoke of Hell', and the super rootsy closer 'Moonlight', but they’re all decent, and you can pick up a hard-to-resist free download direct from the Original Dub Gathering website (here). 

Or you can stream the entire release below:

Introducing ... Heaven and Earth Association

Aside from a Bandcamp page, which suggests Heaven and Earth Association is a two-piece from Portland, Oregon, and a Facebook page that does little more than confirm as much, the vast expanse of the internet offers me nothing in my quest for more information about this rather beguiling musical project.

It probably doesn’t help that Heaven and Earth Association is one of the least google-able band names ever, more so if your goal is to sift the wheat from the chaff as quickly as possible. It might not even be a two-piece. It might be a solo project with an occasional helper. Or a side-project connected to another band - who can really say?

What I can say is the album released by the project in December 2019, the curiously titled 4849:1, was one of my most played lockdown musical excursions. Picked up after a tip from Fabrizio Lusso via his ever reliable WhiteLight//WhiteHeat website.

As with a lot of stuff on that site, 4849:1 is a retro-styled journey into the netherworlds of post-punk, synthpop, and coldwave, and very much to my own personal taste. 4849:1 consists of eight tracks, some of which appear to have been recorded as long ago as 2017, with the highlights being the intoxicating opener ‘Repeating Pattern’ (how is that not a sleeper indie hit?), ‘Run! Don’t Walk’, and an excellent OMD cover, ‘Almost’. The bonus being that it’s a name-your-price download. Grab one.

Album Review: Moby - All Visible Objects (2020)

I don’t quite know what to make of Moby’s latest album, All Visible Objects. It’s been touted in some sections of the music press (or corners of the internet) as a somewhat rusty return to his rave/techno roots, but I’m not sure anyone really needs that right now.

I really enjoyed the introspective nature - on the surface, at least - of his 2018 album, Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt, but this one leaves me feeling bemused. And frustrated.

That’s no real surprise. I’ve always had a rather fractious relationship with Moby’s music (as documented here). He’s difficult to warm to as an individual, with multiple faces or hard-to-embrace personas being presented to the wider public over the past 30 years. 

What that actually means when it comes to analysing Moby’s music rather depends on your own level of investment in the man and his art. Mine’s been minimal, so I’ll try to focus on the music.

All Visible Objects is the proverbial mixed bag of an album, with a few highs, more lows, a selection of guest vocalists, and the odd (very odd) cover - in this case, a soulless take on Roxy Music’s ‘My Only Love’, featuring regular Moby vocal collaborator Mindy Jones. A version that strips away the despair and emotional poignancy of Bryan Ferry’s original, and pads it out with lush layers of faux-rave, almost euphoric, synth fluff.

Slightly more endearing is the (co-write) collaboration with Linton Kwesi Johnson on ‘Refuge’, which, although quite repetitive, resonates with me more than anything else found on the album. But that might just be because I’m a fan of LKJ’s trademark vocal delivery, and not because it’s an especially strong Moby adaptation.

The rest? Well, there’s some truth to those return-to-rave claims, not least on the lead single, ‘Power is Taken’, which is another collaboration, this time with D. H. Peligro (of Dead Kennedys), and quite possibly the worst thing here due to its unimaginative high bpm techno, its inauthentic anti-“the man” right-on pretentiousness, and the annoying refrain ... “those who hate oppression, must fight against the oppressor. Power is not shared, power is taken” … 

Sure, Moby has as much right as anyone else to be angry at the world, but for whatever reason (pick one), it just rings a little hollow coming from him. In much the same way it does when a mansion-dwelling millionaire hip hop mogul raps about life in the projects and living on the edge (man). We’ve been here before.

And while are there are other big room hands-in-the-air moments that hark back to the halcyon days of ‘Go’ and ‘Move’ without exactly replicating those (now dated) highs, much of this stuff - particularly across the second half of the album - would be equally at home on any of his more ambient works, or even as extended interludes on a commercial blockbuster like Play. 

‘Too Much Change’, one of a handful of tracks featuring primary guest vocalist Apollo Jane, is decent enough, but at something close to ten minutes in length, it might have been improved with a little more judicious editing.

So it turns out that my latest liaison with the music of Moby is once again going to be a short-lived affair. It turns out Everything Was Beautiful was yet another false dawn, and the frustration I’ve endured with a lot of his work over the years resumes on All Visible Objects.

Where Everything Was Beautiful seemingly showcased a flawed middle aged man slowly coming to terms with an ever changing world, All Visible Objects is more about a misguided one stubbornly determined to recreate former glories. And not doing it particularly well.

I was tempted to close with a forlorn attempt at clever wordplay around “one man” and his obsession with “knobs”, but given that all sales proceeds from All Visible Objects are being donated to various charities, I should probably cut Moby some slack, and just say that this one is for resilient fans only.

Album Review: Dead Little Penny - Urge Surfing (2019)

Released in November of 2019, Urge Surfing is the debut album from Auckland three-piece Dead Little Penny, and it probably qualifies as my “most listened to” local release across the first six months of 2020.

Repeat plays have ensured the album has now taken on a warm reaffirming glow of familiarity, and its content hits the spot in terms of my own genre preferences, with equal portions dark post-punk, shoegaze, and synthpop ticking many of the boxes I hold near and dear.

Which is always a good start. In fact, you’d probably have to go back to the Fazerdaze debut of 2017, or The Beths release of a year later, to find a local debut album that has made the same sort of instant impact on me. Without fitting into the exact same genre box, of course.

‘Honeycomb’ is a terrific opener and it sets out the band’s stall for what awaits, which is a collection of strong tunes driven by copious amounts of fuzzy guitar, solid rhythms, and (mostly) Hayley Smith’s excellent vocals - frequently layered to good affect, and sometimes cleverly buried deeper within the mix.

They’re mostly songs about the life, love, and loss, plus there’s commentary about mental health, and a few of the more challenging facets of that thing we call the human condition. It can be quite an intense listen. Which suits me fine.

Nine tracks all up, clocking in at just over half an hour. Beyond ‘Honeycomb’ (below), the hidden treasures include ‘Talk Show Goth’, ‘Dead Together’, and the title track which closes out the album.

Album Review: Murmur Tooth - A Fault in This Machine (2020)

Well … this is a genuine grower. A slow burning album release from mid-March which I’ve been absorbing during lockdown and (now) beyond …

Murmur Tooth is Leah Hinton, a Berlin-based New Zealand musician, and although there were a couple of earlier Murmur Tooth releases (EPs) dating back to 2016, A Fault in This Machine is Hinton’s first full-length solo outing.

It feels a little genre-less. In fact, it is impossible to impose any sort of accurate label on it. Something that lazy reviewers (like yours truly) tend to rely on being able to do. Which means I’ve found myself returning to it more often than I otherwise might have, with repeated attempts to fully grasp it. Which has ultimately resulted in me falling a little more in love with it each time. 

I'm tempted to stick the “intimate chamber pop” tag on it. Even though it is more than that, and not really that at all. So it is probably easier to tell you what it isn’t. It isn’t a rock album. It never gets loud. Which is surprising when you consider Hinton’s former life as a rock guitarist in a couple of touring “metal” bands. And it isn’t even a pop album in any conventional sense.

It’s way more challenging than any of that. All of these tunes - nine of them, nearly 32 minutes’ worth - feel intensely personal. Deep, heartfelt, and intimate. A bit gloomy, even. With Hinton baring her soul over the top of meticulously crafted pieces of music, incorporating guitar, piano/keys, what appears to be cello, and all manner of delicate instrumentation. With a sprinkling of fairy dust added to the production. She draws the listener in so close, with clever, and often self-deprecating lyrics, that it is almost impossible not feel like a reluctant voyeur (at times).

In fact, that is exactly what it is … it’s the most uneasy listening “easy listening” album you’re likely to hear all year.

Highlights: the title track, which opens the album, plus ‘Weak Knees’, ‘Rain Rain’, ‘Slip Away’, ‘Early Train’, and ‘Memory’. But there’s not really any filler. 

Leah Hinton: “I wrote, recorded, produced and mixed the album in my little apartment in Berlin. I've spent the last few years upskilling myself as a ‘DIY fullstack musician’ - it's amazing what you can teach yourself these days. All the songs and music videos are 100% DIY and are a testament to perseverance, YouTube tutorials, and good friends who like to help. This album is all my lost and all my love laid out in hertz and decibels, and has been my sense of purpose through a time adrift. I hope you like it.”

You can buy A Fault in This Machine here.