Circ volume 5 issue 2

C I R C U L A T I O N

Marika Hackman + TORRES, Nadine Shah, Jlin and more

Volume 5 / Issue 2 / june 2015 / free

team

Contents editors’ note

editors-in-chief

live

Sophie Brear and Harry Rosehill

4.

managing director elliott ball secretary

the slow show young fathers 5. allah-las 6. foxygen bonobo 7. nordic giants

Summer has finally arrived and so has a vibrant new edition of Circulation, albeit both a little belated. Things have gone much smoother this time, the peanut-infused hell that our office was during the production of Spring’s issue replaced by the sweet aroma of Cornettos with rays of sunshine streaming in through the little window.

caitlin sherrard

features editor kasimiira kontio

features Marika hackman 10. TORRES festival forecast 18. jlin 20. Nadine shah 8.

Live editor Scott clarke

12.

Albums editor alice ILiffe miller

comment editor holly hunt

albums Best Coast Everything Everything 15. jme the vaccines 16. unknown mortal orchestra pins 17. hot chip florence + the machine 14.

arts editor jack turner

pr + publicity charlotte morrin

events managers maddy crammond victoria watkins

web editor james rudge

comment ‘tentative’ ‘festival fwends’ 22.

contributors

23.

Sophie church Jack Cullimore anoosh djavaheri douglas fraser Sophie Goodall kit lockey Georgia Marshall eleanor mason Zayn Qureshi eleanor sutherland christine tan

The arrival of this glorious season means one very, very important thing to us. Festivals! This issue provides you with a wonderful festival poster covering our pick of the best fests the UK has to offer, from the arty woodland haven of Latitude to the dance-heavy Gottwood.

We also take a look at the funny characters you’re guaranteed to meet in the fields, as well as some of the less glamorous aspects of festival livin’ in our comment section.

2015 is also shaping up to be a great year for albums, with some interesting releases from Hot Chip, Everything Everything and our featured artists too.

Looking back over our recent issues, we noticed the discomforting lack of female featured artists. While music taste is genderless, and for every deserving male artist interviewed in Circulation, there’s an equally deserving female one, it seems that the system of music PR is biased towards giving men opportunity, unconscious to us and perhaps to press representatives too. In certain musical genres it appears more difficult for women to break through than others, but without making a huge song and dance about the issues faced by women in the music industry, we present you with four amazing, talented musicians: Marika Hackman, Torres, JLin and Nadine Shah. It’s not about excluding male artists, only bringing women and their wonderful musical achievments into the spotlight that they deserve within our magazine.

We hope you enjoy reading the mag, the perfect light literature (despite the dark music of Marika and Nadine....) for lounging in the sun. Have fabulous summers everyone and embrace the festival spirit at all times!

sophie and harry ‘festival forecast’ poster by kit lockey

circulation-mag.com / circulationmagazine@yusu.org / facebook.com/circulationmag / @circulationmag

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the slow show the brudenell social club games room leeds thursday 4 june The Slow Show, Mancunian creators of romantic lo-fi rock, are known for having members of their audience in tears, or else stood in awestruck silence during their live sets. This was what I witnessed on a Thursday night in a busy little room in Leeds. Their magic lies in the ability to master both delicacy and passionate fervour in their musicality and in forming lyrics which are both universal and heartbreakingly personal.

Their beautiful songs are lifted to another level by soaring brass accompaniment, its strains at times mournful and at others filled with hope.

But for me, the most compelling part is frontman Rob Goodwin’s achingly soulful baritone voice, startling when flowing forth from his slight frame, it had so much depth I felt I could swim in those delicious, warm waves. Goodwin appears to leave a little blessing on everyone in the room as he sets his striking blue eyes on each of us, completely humble, repeatedly thanking the audience for “this beautiful night”. The band’s prolonged absence from the UK following their considerable European tour seemed to have left some doubts as to whether there was any-

one still listening here. Those doubts will surely be put to rest after this tour; their reception was fantastic, the audience looking on with genuine affection, all smiles, like a crowd of old friends.

They play White Waters, their crystalline debut album of this year, almost in entirety. The whole set was wonderfully weaved together; in its stripped-back, mellow moments and those of electrifying energy- each song sounds immaculate. Particular highlights were ‘Dresden’ and the deeply moving ‘Brother’, written by Goodwin about his grandfather, who lost his brother to cancer when they were teenagers: “Let’s go back to football fields and backyard alleyways/ Before God let you down boy, and took your life away.” he sings. Though, the real peak is ‘Bloodlines’: with its punchy trumpet riff, it’s reminiscent of the excellent ‘Fake Empire’ by The National. It’s an exhilarating culmination to the set, one of those closers which can’t really be followed (though, of course, it is… by the inevitable encore. Sometimes these fine, sublime things should be left as they are.)

The comparison to The National is an obvious one, constantly regurgitated by music critics, but at times I do wonder whether the two are too similar. The band name is of course lifted from The National’s song ‘Slow Show’ from the album Boxer; perhaps they run the risk of seeming a little like tribute to their forebears. While their similar bloodlines are no bad thing, The Slow Show’s music is mesmerising and excellent in its own right, I look forward to seeing how they develop from here, perhaps pulling their sound into some new shapes and developing a distinct voice. In any case, The Slows put on a show with true heart tonight.

sophie brear photo: james rudge

young fathers the brudenell social club leeds friday 22 may Young Fathers are an intensely interesting band. The young trio, made up of Alloysious Massaquoi, Kayus Bankole, and ‘G’ Hastings, burst out of the Edinburgh hip-hop scene last year, scooping the 2014 Mercury Music prize for their album DEAD and drawing a good deal of attention to themselves for their biting, left wing lyrics and joint-popping, head-filling beats. Now, they’re back and touring with a legendary trail of live shows and a new offering, the contentiously titled album White Men Are Black Men Too. Their show at the Brudenell Social Club blew me away. The opening set the tone for their performance: a long, vibrating drumbeat blasted out, the stage shrouded in purple smoke, as the shadowy silhouettes of the trio swam into focus. The crowd was immediately turned on as Young Fathers began to weave their magic, addressing the sea of faces before them with a hypnotic, aggressive intensity. Their music manages to slip with ease between gritty hip hop, angelic, gospel-esque song, and electrifyingly tribal beats. The determined vitality of favourite single from 2014, ‘GET UP’, whipped up the crowd almost instantly. From guys in snapbacks skanking at the front to older fans head-nodding at the back, everyone was mesmerised.

Their live renditions of ‘Still Running’ and ‘Old

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Rock and Roll’ from the new album also stick out in my memory as awesome performances, passionate and engaging in every way.

Equally impressive was the demonic dancing of Bankole and Massaquoi, the backlit stage used to its utmost advantage to dramatically frame their explosive moves. The three men on stage skillfully meshed together, a gyrating ball of primal, howling activity that kept all eyes on them.

As the show continued, the energy in the room was almost unbelievable. People were dancing hard, sweat dripping from faces, and the crowded floor space got hotter and hotter. I kept glancing up and noticing the fifties-style ceiling tiles of the Brudenell, so distant from the explosion of genres, races and cultures that was happening on stage. The trio are often remarked upon for their dynamic as a multiracial group – Massaquoi is from Liberia, and Bankole is of Nigerian parentage, while Hastings is white and from Edinburgh – and their brazen attitude to race, nationality, identity. Their very presence on stage – three proud, dignified young men – was a testament to the weary struggle against racial prejudice that still exists even today. It is rare, I feel, to go to and see music that evokes that sense so strongly. There’s just something about Young Fathers that feels right, as if even by listening to them, we were playing our own small parts in affecting change. To be in a crowd so thoroughly tapped into that mentality was not just fun and memorable but also profoundly moving. Hands waved in the air, eyes closed dreamily and heads were thrown back as people really listened. I have a feeling that Young Fathers are just getting started.

maddy crammond

allahlas the brudenell social club leeds wednesday 3 june In a revamped fifties working men’s club at the end-road of an Islamic neighbourhood in a northern industrial city, the Brudenell, having hosted the likes of Wooden Shjips and Anton Newcombe, possessed both a timeless cultural diversity and music identity befitting any West Coast garage rock band. And the Allah-Las kindly brought the weather over with them, at the expense their support, the Furs, who while having much more depth live than their recorded versions suggest, could not compete as most preferred to stay outside with their pints on a summer evening crafted to worship the sun.

Allah-Las set-up was quite predictable: tubes and analog equipment abound to create the sixties sun-worn vintage sound characteristic of their two studio albums, which they recreated, somewhat inevitably, to a T. They did however, in their undisturbed nonchalance, at times make the effort to venture from their armchairs and experiment a little.

As the ba ba ba’s of ‘Buffalo Nickel’ smacked of the British Invasion, echoing through the Brudenell, the music was at once both time-full and timeless, an outspoken fancy of the Allah-Las. Though perhaps they feel the need to say so to counter being written off by critics as another knock-off revivalist band that isn’t quite as good as the real thing.

While it’s true that the Allah-Las get zero marks for innovation, that isn’t what they study: rather,

it’s their immediate familiarity, Brian Jonestown Massacre-esque, that has them sweet to the tastes of most who listen, manifesting in a diverse crowd at the Brudenell; your revivalist hipsters and actually-been-there old-timers alike. But it’s the familiarity of the Allah-Las that makes such cultural abstractions irrelevant with regards to their likeability: ‘Sandy’ saw the crowd full of good spirits, just as ‘Every Girl’s’ “Watch the way she walks / You know she’s the best girl on the block” had everybody and their imaginations dancing all the same.

Still, with their immediate familiarity the Allah-Las do not necessarily compromise intricacy; nor are they lazy with their live performances: just the easy-going chucks of ‘Follow You Down’ floated beneath an uncannily familiar riff, sometime further into the night the Allah-Las classically harmonised a switch from ‘Had It All’ to ‘No Werewolf’. Miles Michaud’s characteristic guitar chucks made it a pretty simple changeover in chord progression, while Pedrum Siadiatian’s lead guitar in ‘No Werewolf’ was more expertly integrated into ‘Follow You Down’ five to ten seconds before Michaud made the change, with some aware of how they were mixing their tracks making it known with their cheers.

The night ended philosophically with ‘Better With Mine’: “He told me always take some time just to wonder / And always come to question what you’re told / And to love without condition those who wander / For it’s they who’ll come to pave the higher road”. As the pints kept flowing and the crowd danced it in with the sun long set. Playing live, the Allah-Las at times found more room to manoeuvre within their own nonchalant production than anticipated, but apart from those brief moments they played very similar to their recorded versions— but though trying too hard isn’t their thing, and few of those who came would have been disappointed.

review and photo: scott clarke

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foxygen the brudenell social club leeds friday 8 may I don’t know if it was just me, but the Brudenell Social Club smelled of incense and flowers the moment that Foxygen walked onto the fairy lit, garland bedecked stage in Leeds. Sam France, lead singer and band ringleader, has more energy and stage presence as an individual than most bands have at full flow. The band had chosen to play old-fashioned circus music as we were waiting and come to think of it, this pretty much sums up a lot about Foxygen as a live entity. The band’s studio albums are beautifully eclectic, colourful homages to their 60’s and 70’s-style psychedelia.

They are wonderfully insane, but as a live performance the insanity and energy really shines through, mainly in the form of Sam France’s unique outbursts of dance moves and intense bouts of staring at the audience or writhing on the floor. At times the band stopped playing completely, telling jokes or stories, and at one point the guitarist and bassist had an on-stage sword fight.

The music itself sounded far more raucous and energetic than the albums, with songs like ‘We are the 21st Century Ambassadors’ becoming more punk/rock and roll in sound. Fan favourite ‘San Francisco’ wasn’t even played by the band at all, instead they sped up the studio version and played it over the speakers at the end, before the band inevitably burst back on stage to perform a huge encore of ‘Oh Yeah’ and ‘On Blue Mountain’.

All in all, Foxygen played mostly songs from their most recent album …And Star Power which is arguably more sonically adventurous than their first, but they managed to translate it to the stage excellently. The set culminated in a confusion of noise and shouting before rising back out into a perfectly executed rock and roll groove with synchronized dancing from the three backing singers. It was such an explosion of noise, colour, movement (and smell) that one could feel slightly overwhelmed, but the charm and humour of the band made sure that it never felt over the top or that it needed to be taken seriously. I realize now how important the circus music played at the start and the end was. Sam France became a ringleader for the circus of his band as they travelled through a

colourful landscape of rock and roll, punk, and 60’s psychedelia, tying it all into one wonderfully zany, eccentric blur.

jack cullimore illustration: georgia Marshall

bonobo canal mills: DJ set leeds friday 24 april The accessible warmth of Simon Green aka Bonobo’s sample-rich downtempo electronica alone is enough to bring in the flocks of fans; indeed, nearly a year and a half since his last performance at Canal Mills Bonobo has returned.

Bonobo’s work has long been of high personal value for me, able to slot into practically any mood. But the prospect of seeing Bonobo perform in a club context seemed more challenging to envisage: sure, many of his tracks have the bass driven power for a dancing situation, but is not how I would characterize his music in the slightest. Still, back to his beginnings, Bonobo proved his ability as one of the great contemporary DJs. As many fans will have felt, kicking the night off with the opening to the album Black Sands with

‘Prelude’ and ‘Kiara’, was an unbeatable way to encapsulate the audience for the coming hours. Bonobo struck the fine line between providing his much loved creations seamlessly integrated with an array of contemporary talent: namely Four Tet with the African tribal chant of ‘That Track I’ve Been Playing’, providing a raw unconventional thematic flow. This side of Bonobo’s production talent can also be seen with his sets on Late Night Tales. At times, bass lines verged on the soul, trip-hop spectrum of Australia’s Chet Faker, while at others a vibe more in tune with the Chemical Brothers emerged, conjuring up the 90’s underground scene. With the funky twang of his latest EP, Flashlight, Bonobo could not have done better in bowling us over with the masterful melding of his syncopated skill reminiscent of Modest Mouse, gentle percussion tinker characteristic of Cirrus, haunting vocals of Know You, and heartwarming eighties-esq synths of Roosevelt generating a really unique atmosphere. Meanwhile, the talents of Stephen Howe and Werkha kept a high-energy corner of the club going all night long.

It is an enticing prospect to see Bonobo live, exclusively centered on his productions, with the masterful accompaniment of an array of guest musicians – Bonobo truly demonstrates his multidimensional ability to move his audience irrespective of the night. On this night, we saw him as an integral part of a diversely talented collective of British DJs.

Douglas fraser

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nordic giants the deaf institute manchester tuesday 5 may Manchester’s Deaf Institute may not be the place you’d expect to find bands with the sonic scale of Nordic Giants or support act Athousandfurs. The small, almost cozy, upstairs room of this old building provided a strange yet wonderfully intimate environment for a journey into the post-rock meets orchestral film score and electronics of Nordic Giant’s production.

However, the night opened with a flawless performance from Athousandfurs with a number of new unheard songs and some older tracks.

Captivated, the audience stood almost still to hear every note from Alex Hedley’s angelic voice. Backed by powerfully driving drums and perfectly judged psychedelic noodlings from Billy Merrick on the guitar, the band create a wonderfully emotional and expansive sound which draws you right in, making you completely forget that you are in a small room in Manchester.

Nordic Giants came on stage quietly, unnoticed in the dark and two large screens lit up showing the first of many short films that often took the focus of the performance away from the music. The first was a film set in a dystopian future with robot police officers targeting human convicts and sending them to the moon.

The sheer scale of the film pre-empted that of the music itself as they began with eerie bowed guitar, trumpet and a vast soundscape of synths. They then begin to build such a large and emotionally charged sound that it could leave one feeling slightly out of depth and overwhelmed. But the addition of the short, song-length films to the mix turned the gig into a dynamic experience where one’s attention was torn between the masked and feathered

figures onstage and the arresting and often violent images on screen.

They moved on to another film, this time starring a number of girls in a boat who put on oxygen masks and eventually end up brutally murdering each other for oxygen. Again, the visually stirring films drew people’s attention away from the music, which became more like an interesting soundtrack. But the power and energy put into both the drumming and the rest of the music meant the balance just about worked.

A powerful fusion of media, the gig ended with Alex Hedley and Billy Merrick of Athousandfurs returning to the stage to perform ‘Dissolve’ with the Giants. The second part of a film played earlier began with the original sound, bringing the whole thing to a breathtaking conclusion.

jack cullimore illustration: Georgia Marshall

marika hackman Drawn into a macabre dimension of beautiful melancholia, I remember the 2013 version of me is sitting on a bed, listening to the 21-yearold Marika Hackman singing and unveiling the beauty hiding in the darkest corners of our lives. “Even though you think to push me from the bath into the sink, I can still get clean from everything obscene”, she sings, turning the obscenity of our worst mistakes into poetry. Regardless of her young age, she understands the comfort that lives in the obscure

spaces between the light and dark.

Two years after my first encounter with Hackman, I am still sitting on my bed, reminiscing about my very first listen to her first mini release That Iron Taste and waiting for the clock to turn to four. At 4:01pm, I am on the phone with 23-year-old Hackman who’s just returned from France. “The tour has been good but quite draining”, she says and shares a tired laugh.

“I find touring quite stressful and if I write quite

intensively, I get quite stressed out. The first album stressed me out as it was quite personal”, she admits but continues: “It is better to keep working though and I am already thinking about a second record. I feel more comfortable in my own skin now and I’m more settled in with my new life outside my parents’ house. I feel like this record is stronger as I am more headstrong.”

There is darkness in Hackman’s music that could easily be connected with her Scandinavian heritage. Covering the likes of Lykke Li, Hackmann has mastered the Scandinavian gloom and melancholia in her songs: “My father is Finnish and I’ve been going there every year since I was little. It is quite peaceful and calm but melancholic so yes, I would say it has influenced me a lot though I find it quite hard to pinpoint where everything has come from because it is a mismatch of different things.”

While there is no direct influence that Hackman is able to point out, her artsy background is something that can be seen and heard in everything she produces. Having a degree in Fine Art, Hackman could almost be described to be more of an artist than a musician.

“i don’t think i am a folk artist. i think it runs a bit deeper than that”

Focusing deeply on the visual aspects of her music, she wants her songs to be relatable in a very visual way. “I was really big into Philip Glass when I was at school. I am a very visual person so I guess that’s why my songs could be seen as something quite cinematic. When I write, I conjure up images very quickly”, she explains and continues: “I want to conjure imagery that could be a metaphor that you can relate to because you can see them in your head.” Looking at the music video for her 2015 single ‘Ophelia’, the metaphorical aspects of Hackman’s music become very evident through the very David Lynch-esque cinematography. “When I was making that song, I imagined myself sounding very cowboy-esque in a desert and I thought it would be an interesting take to place the idea of drowning in a very dry, barren wasteland”, she explains, opening up the juxtaposition between the lyrics and the imagery of the music video.

“Having more people around makes you feel more lonely” Brought up in the world of Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath, Hackman is a poet resembling the likes of Keaton Henson and her friend and colleague Laura Marling. Battling against the banal, standardized way of reducing young female musicians into living and breathing embodiments of pastoral indie dreams, Hackman is very frank with her critique towards the labeling of female artists. “I want to just say ‘stop being so lazy’”, Hackman states and continues: “I have actively been pushing against this sort of labeling.” Looking at the more experimental tracks like ‘Retina Television’ where she uses her body as an instrument, Hackman clearly explores the musical spheres with a creative whim in her step. It is easy to fall into the trap of calling her a folk artist, especially when looking at her career.

Touring with Laura Marling and having her first album produced by Johnny Flynn, the world of neo-folk is certainly something that has affected Hackman’s career but it is not a genre

Hackman identifies her music with. “I don’t think I am a folk artist. I think it runs a bit deeper than that”, she says intriguingly, pointing out the complexities of her music. “People seem to cling to the fact that there is an acoustic song about a forest rather than noticing the mixture of genres on the records.” Drawing inspiration from the likes of Portishead, Hackman’s work is getting further and further away from the indie folkstress image surrounding her.

Much like her music, there is poetic melancholia in the character of Hackman which, at first glance, seems unobtainable yet enthralling.

Her persona is something that could either spark a hatred driven rant or a love letter, fumed by sincere admiration. “People often think that I seem moody or like I do not want to be there”, she says when asked about her stage presence that is very minimal yet hypnotizing. It is easy to judge her for her lack of words but why would she waste her breath on cringey, shallow chat up lines when her music is all about honesty? “I am not the one who talks just for the sake of talking. I rather play more songs than chat between the songs.” She is a girl whose persona grows on you and she is also the girl who leaves the party early to

work on a new song which says a hell of a lot more about her than just her stage presence.

As my time with her draws close to an end, I am ready to write a love letter to Marika Hackman. There is fascinating complexity in her and her music that is so beautiful that it leaves you numb because you simply do not know how to feel. Hackman understands the pain of being a human. “Having more people around makes you feel more lonely”, she says, pointing out our contradictory need for solitude and being surrounded by people. The world she creates through her music is a dark yet a beautiful one. Hackman sees the beauty in obscene and captures the fruitful fuel sparked by past relationships. She might be a beautiful poet and one of the finest musicians in the industry, but what I have learned from our discussion is that she is, first and foremost, an actual person.

Marika Hackman’s first studio album We Slept at Last is out now.

Kasimiira Kontio photos: pip

T o r r e s Mackenzie Scott decided to make music under the moniker TORRES because it was her grandfather’s first name, and it is this inescapable closeness to her upbringing and authentic roots that runs throughout her music.

Scott makes heart-wrenchingly personal indie rock, delving into themes of childhood and reaches back to her upbringing in the Baptist Church on her fantastic sophomore album Sprinter.

Like the artwork for the album, there is always a sense that you can only truly see half of what is going on. The whole story always remains partially in the darkness battling the light. Sprinter is overflowing with dichotomous battles that the cover clearly represents and Scott helpfully namechecked a few more for me. “This record is all about beginnings and ends, creation and apocalypse, freedom and repression.”

Scott grew up in the deep south of America, in Georgia a stronghold for the Baptist

We talked about what it was like drawing upon memories of her childhood for the new

“I like mystique and i’m always blurring the lines between fictitious and autobiographical storytelling” Church. Sprinter sees Mackenzie Scott confronting this past, from which you sense she has spent a long time running from, (hence Sprinter). On the title track we immediately hear the uneasiness that lies in her past and the hypocrisy that she started to see in organised religion, ‘Pastor lost his position / Went down for pornography.’ I asked her what her feelings on the church are now, and she pretty bluntly said: ‘I’m a follower of Jesus Christ, but I’m not in the church anymore.’

Throughout our interview I got the sense that Scott found it easier to communicate about what is personal to her through her songs than in a one on one conversation. However, she adamantly denied this, claiming that they are not personal at all. “The truth is that I control what goes into the songwriting and it isn’t actually that personal at all. People just think it is. I like mystique and I’m always blurring the lines between fictitious and autobiographical storytelling.”

This was a surprise at first, so much of the album takes place from a first person perspective, but then it started to make sense to me.

album. Exploring one’s childhood can be uncomfortable for a writer, especially considering it is so intrinsic to our present identity, but Scott did not seem daunted by this at all. “Writing this album was cleansing, in a way, because it was basically regression therapy. It was difficult to put myself in that headspace, but once I was there, memories began to pour in – some unpleasant, some wonderful – and I was able to manipulate those past experiences in the songwriting. It was healing for me, and also really fun as a storyteller.”

Speaking of having fun as a storyteller, I felt compelled to ask about the standout track from her eponymous debut album, ‘Moon & Back’. During the song she inhabits the mind of her birth mother (Scott is adopted) writing a letter to her baby who she’d never know.

Scott received this letter after she graduated high school, and writing from other people in her life’s perspective and getting inside their heads is a technique she repeatedly uses.

As soon as I asked her about doing this and whether she ever talked this through with people in her life, she immediately recoiled back into the darkness. “I don’t talk about these

things in conversation, especially not to the people implicated in the songwriting.” Clearly she feels that her songs speak for themselves, which is reasonable considering the amount of time and craft she talks about putting into them.

We then moved onto talking about the actual sound of the album. TORRES’ lyrics are so central to her music that it is easy to get fixated on them without noticing the definite change her sound has undergone between albums. Sprinter is harsher and leaner than its predecessor, the reverb notch has truly been turned up to eleven. “The heavier sound is reflective of what my live show has become over the last two years. The performances evolved into something more heavy and rougher than what my debut album reflected. I wanted the new album to be more representative of how I actually perform.” When she does revert to her more stripped back sound, it is all the more powerful for its rarity such as on awe-inducing album closer ‘The Exchange’.

As I have alluded to Scott is an incredibly accomplished songwriter. She studied songwriting at Belmont University in Nashville, but has shown signs of resenting this clinical approach to art. After the release of her debut she tweeted one of her lecturer’s evaluation of her lyrics for the song J‘ealousy And I’. She got good marks because of “identifiable elements” and the fact that it “rhymes well”. These remarks are not exactly world altering so I asked Scott whether she found that attending university helped her. The response I got was typically diplomatic: “It’s hard to know what would have happened if I hadn’t chosen to study songwriting in school. I think everything I did helped to get me where I am now, so the only answer I have is yes. I believe the songwriting program helped. If nothing else, it gave me time to hone my craft and figure out what kind of mark I want to make.” All those who have heard Scott’s latest album will note that the mark she’s left, won’t be fading fast.

TORRES’ latest album Sprinter is out now on Partisan records and she is touring the UK throughout September.

harry rosehill photo: shawn brackbrill

RECENTLY RELEASED best coast california nights

‘California Nights’ is slow, dreamlike and psychedelic, whilst ‘Heaven Sent’ is the ultimate girl band anthem. The song ‘Run through my head’ isn’t the strongest musically, but it exposes singer Bethany Cosentino’s talent as a songwriter, emphasising that songs don’t have to be complex when the lyrics are real and pure. Musically, better production values have given the band a cleaner sound.

Their trademark romantic melodies have been dismantled, and the overall “je ne sais quoi” of Best Coast has been erased, but these things have been replaced with clearer guitar in a more fast paced style.

From this, an overall feel is that the album has been influenced by grunge and 90’s punk in some aspects, which fits with their trademark stoner rock essence. The experimentation is interesting, and there is definitely a feel that Best Coast have headed towards a style that is liked by the majority of alternative music listeners. California Nights sounds more pop punk, which will definitely appeal to a wider audience. It’s crisp, fresh whilst still recognisable as Best Coast.

sophie goodall In 2010, Best Coast brought out their debut album, Crazy For You. A collection of personal, angst fuelled love songs, lyrically organised into simple childlike structures, backed by warm distorted guitar and chord progressions straight from 1950’s surfer rock.

Its hazy summer ambience was reinforced by the band name, a pun on “west coast” where they, and their influences, originated.

Sweet, wistful and well executed, it paved the way for future success and truly defined them as a band. California Nights, their third album really does document the maturity of Best Coast, but hints at a case of too much, too soon.

A band quintessential to the ultimate relaxed holiday vibe is not easily associated with the harsh ambition of progression to become an act with the main goal of high record sales at the forefront of creating music. And whilst this is a good thing, it is possibly the reason why California Nights is not as iconic as it could have been. It hangs somewhere between selling out, being a game-changing masterpiece, and being a collection of songs that didn’t make it onto the first two albums. Best Coast don’t quite hit the nail on the head in any of those ways and there is definitely no evidence of a big step, or even establishing themselves as the band they deserve to be. It’s the safe option.

As harsh a critic that I may be, I believe that credit is due where it is deserved. There are some exceptional tracks on this album.

everything everything get to heaven

Get to Heaven is a strange creature. Upon first hearing its lead single ‘Distant Past’, I envisioned the release to be like an amiable, energetic puppy - slightly annoying and desperate for affection. It has by far the hookiest of many hooks on this album, the chorus riff playing out like a 90’s dance tune, making me think that the band had sold themselves a little short of their usual ingenious playfulness.

It would definitely be a little short-sighted to see it this way though. Everything Everything have garnered themselves a reputation for ambitious, idiosyncratic pop, which though seeming a little jarring and frantic at times, is

always totally lucid. We can suppose then, that the dance riff from ‘Distant Past’ and the epic spaceship-take-off-style score on ‘No Reptile’ are tongue-in-cheek, both dripping with irony. Though a touch of sonic experimentation has been lost, as the band stick to some familiar patterns, Get to Heaven is a much more sinister beast than is anticipated from the sound, dragging us into a grotesque cartoon-universe and slitting our throats with Jonathan Higgs’ knife-edged vocals and cutting lyrical observations of an automaton existence.

This record has a lot to live up to: its predecessors, debut Man Alive was nominated for the Mercury Prize and the critically acclaimed Arc peaked at number 5 in the UK album charts. For me, it’s sure made it up there as an important release for 2015 with its clever, mischievous critique of contemporary society.

It’s catchy enough for mainstream success but also dark and odd enough for the rest of us.

Title track ‘Get to Heaven’ would have been a better choice of lead single, reminiscent of Arc’s great ‘Kemosabe’ with Higgs’ superhuman falsetto fluttering out a chorus of fizzy sherbet-sweet melody. Sherbet-sweet, though with a incisive, citric bite; its harsh reality as sugar-coated as the stories spun by politicians about the future. Higgs sings: “out in the cold, there’s an old man lying down in the flames tonight.. he whistles as they’re sweeping him up alright.” Everything Everything have created a frightening, carnivalesque reflection of 21st century Britain; one populated by brazen images of sub-human “barbarians”, people masked with baboon faces, slaves and sweet-talking politicians. Even God has been usurped by the internet; all that we are left with is an artificial heaven which we can’t get to without our password.

The scope of the album is hugely dynamic, both musically and conceptually; the band striding for the big ideas, flirting with their anxieties over the state of the self and the fate of humanity. Menace bubbles constantly below the surface as our lives are presented to us in all their sickly, theatrical alienation. It’s about humans who have been reduced to a powerless, empty existence; we’re no more than fat children in push-chairs, living in the absurd game show of life. It’s about making sense of the senselessness of our everyday existence, but without providing any answers, perhaps because there are none. Or maybe, as abrasive and elusive as Everything Everything are in their shameless, self-consciously pretentious frolicking - it’s not about that at all.

sophie brear

JME integrity>

Journeying into 2015, names such as Stormzy, Bugzy Malone and Novelist have all shone through as the newcomers to watch in the grime scene. However, JME has once again proven himself to be a staple for the genre, with his newest record, Integrity>. The album is full of what you’d expect and want, from the ever-so Serious(!) MC: grimey beats, blissful puns, comedic bars and catchy flows.

In classic JME style, the album starts off with a bang. A heavy synth is thrown to the fore on the track ‘Pulse 8’, making sure the listener is well aware of who they are listening to. Next comes ‘96 Fuckries’, where JME declares himself as not caring about your T’s and C’s, as he’s J to the M to the E, and he makes G R I M E. The following track, ‘Taking Over’, produced by Preditah, showcases JME’s ascent to the top of the scene, with Wiley (godfather of grime) hailing him as the genre’s new king.

“You gotta put in that work”, spits the Tottenham MC on the very aptly titled track, ‘Work’.

Once again, JME brings grimey production to the track – one that you could only imagine JME spitting over. Indeed, the entirety of the production on this album is best described as “JME-style”. It seems like a bit of a copout to say that, but it’s the truth. JME’s production is just so quintessentially JME that you couldn’t imagine any other MC spitting over it, let alone any other MC or producer creating it.

So is JME just a good producer? Of course not. In fact, he is far from a shoddy lyricist. “I’ve got a black ski mask, but I don’t ski / But I snowboard, dash an MC off-piste”, proclaims the MC on ‘Man Don’t Care’. Indeed, throughout the album, JME portrays incredibly witty and catchy bars, such as “I’m an Xbox man, fam, FPS / Badman on any FPS / I’mma get a PC so I can leng man on 120 FPS”, on the song ‘Game’, and “Your new fans come like tans,

they only wanna bred man’s skin after man got hot”, on the title-track ‘Integrity’.

The features on the album are far from disappointing. From Jamie’s brother Skepta, to fellow Boy Better Know members Shorty and Frisco, to the infamous Lord of the Mics creator Jammer, to the Grime legend, Wiley, this record has them all. However, the most exciting feature of all has to be the appearance of the gully-gully-godfather himself, D Double E. With an appearance on the song ‘Again’, D Double compliments JME’s flow and production with ease. To my discontent, however, D Double failed to introduce himself with any of his impeccable mannerisms, such as “oooh oooh, das mue mue”, leaving the song feeling somewhat lacking.

Integrity> as a whole, however, is a solid grime record, in a genre that has never coexisted easily with the album format. The production is archetypally grime, and the bars are playful, portraying JME’s personality with clarity and precision. There is no part of this album that makes you wonder whether JME has lost his touch, or whether he has departed from the genre that raised him. The record is grime, through and through.

anoosh djavaheri

the vaccines English graffiti

What Did You Expect From the Vaccines?

This title of The Vaccines’ first album seems more appropriate in describing their eagerly anticipated third, English Graffiti. If you expected to hear The Vaccines’ typical short but sweet, guitar heavy, irresistibly catchy and lyrically simple indie songs, then in part you will be satisfied.

English Graffiti opens with ‘Handsome’, typically Vaccines: short, punchy and incredibly

catchy. We are on similarly safe ground with ‘20/20’, with Justin Young assuring the unlucky girl that he is “through thinkin’ bout you” on the chorus. The lyrics are all underpinned by a careering guitar riff which carries along the melody in true Vaccines style.

By this point in the album, nothing is really amiss, The Vaccines still sound like a 17 year old American boy band who’ve formed in their parents’ garage. However, single ‘Dream Lover’ sees the band reaching to new heights, or at least sideways to explore new dimensions of their sound. A meaty guitar riff runs through the song but never overpowers Justin Young’s vocals of elaborate light and shade. The cosmic music video for the song shows the band don’t take themselves too seriously, but are still trying to branch out from the sound of their last two albums.

Indeed on ‘Minimal Affection’ The Vaccines have really written a pop song, with a light and bouncy melody which Young’s voice hops and skips around on. As with ‘Dream Lover’ the song sounds from another planet, with Young asking, “Anyone, anyone, anyone, anyone, anyone? Is there anyone there?” You can even imagine the band on an 70’s set of Top of the Pops with mist rolling round their flared ankles as a warm up for Ziggy Stardust.

Stranger things are to follow on ‘(All Afternoon) in Love’, a reflective moment of the album. Young realises he has “fallen in love” and drives home his point in the chorus by repeating it about 10 times. This may be sweet and endearing to some, but seems far too soppy even from the low points of ‘Post BreakUp Sex’ and ‘All in White’ from their first album.

Indeed, the cheesy Spanish guitar break on ‘(All Afternoon)...’ shows The Vaccines are aware of this change to their sound but are running with it.

So The Vaccines really have taken a turn towards pop and are well aware of what they are doing. ‘Denial’ is a particularly strong point of the album and lies somewhere between the normality of ‘Handsome’ and the frankly bizarre ‘(All Afternoon)...’. I’m still unsure what to make of English Graffiti and think this will be the case for most people. At times strange but at times brilliant, it is definitely an album to listen to with an open mind and no expectations.

Sophie Church

RECENTLY RELEASED Unknown mortal orchestra Multi-love

There’s just something a bit too noisy, a bit too crowded, about each track. It’s as if each sound is bouncing off the others at a slightly off angle. The songs have great potential, and flashes of catchy brilliance, but overall they fail to gel with quite the same brilliance as UMO’s earlier stuff. It’s a far cry from the bashful texture of 2013 album II, a wealth of satin-smooth hits such as ‘Swim and Sleep’ and ‘So Good At Being in Trouble’.

Multi-Love has a couple of strong songs, but I just can’t shake the feeling of disappointment that pervades this album after such a stellar offering two years ago. The sleepy, haunting vocals have vanished for mumbled nonsensical refrains, the delicate thrums of the bass for awkward, fuzzy synths. The magnetising freshness of UMO seems to have over-ripened somewhat, to the point where they almost sound like a different band. Strains of the old sound remain in ‘Multi-Love’, and maybe a hint in ‘Necessary Evil’, but their glow for me has largely vanished. While I admire their attempt to break fresh ground, it seems like they already ticked that box with II, and were doing so very pleasantly indeed. A confusing offering…

Maddy crammond Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s silky, soulful psychedelia has taken an explorative turn in their third album, Multi-Love. The American-New Zealand trio have been critically prolific since 2011, with two previous albums and a world tour over the past four years.

Their newest album, then, is an interesting piece.

The title track kicks off the album, lucid piano tinkles overlaid with the crooning vocals of singer Ruben Nielson and a quizzical, examining beat. An extremely strong start to the collection, this track contains both the pro of being a stand-alone hit, and also the con of somewhat showing up the following offerings. As the album progresses, it becomes apparent that the crystal clear melodies and weighty, bone swinging basslines that I love UMO for have vanished. The brash, sloppy track ‘Like Acid Rain’ follows ‘Multi-Love’, moving the sound of the album more towards sludgy low fi pop than the poised, pointed sounds distinctive to UMO’s critically acclaimed sound. The following track tells the same story – smudgy vocals, blurry sounds. The second lead single ‘Can’t Keep Checking My Phone’ pops up fourth in line, redemptive with its undeniable catch as the chorus breaks out, wavy vocals blending in with synths and a rapid fire drumbeat. Still, though, the songs drone on, failing to snag my attention through the jarring electronica and slurred vocals.

pins wild nights

PINS are a bunch of badasses, and they really, really want you to know it. If the tonguein-cheek video for second single ‘Too Little, Too Late’ wasn’t enough to convince you of this; fingers up, smudgy black eye makeup on in artfully sloppy fashion, brows furrowed, chins up in ‘come at me, yeah’ style, then surely Wild Nights will.

The album begins with the confident, striding riff of ‘Baby Bhangs’, which runs along at a slick pace, studded with images of leather-clad folk, heaven, hell, and all that. PINS

are probably the most Californian thing ever to come out of the great industrial smoke of Manchester. One part surfer rock, two parts brazen, unapologetic attitude, PINS really impress. While their debut Girls Like Us was a little darker, sounding closer to Siouxsie in its punkier moments, Wild Nights is the summeriest thing I’ve heard all year. PINS sound like they’re coasting around in LA, soft top down, aviators poised, with all the ups and downs of a whirlwind romance and the breeze tickling the tips of their fingers.

Despite there being little lyrical content to really chew on, in its simplicity, the record encapsulates the sweetness, the recklessness, the escapism, but also the uncertainties of youth: “Wouldn’t it be fun to kiss everyone…

What will we do when our dreams come true?” they sing, accompanied by sunny guitar licks on ‘Young Girls’. In its hazy, psychedelia-tinged ambience, its little anecdotes appear to the mind like a series of worn polaroid shots of wild summer nights. There’s something bittersweet in it, and incredibly throwback. There’s nothing too original or genre-bending to be heard here, the songs bearing some uncanny familiarity, but it’s a greatly enjoyable album in some ways for this very reason.

Since Girls Like Us, which was a little more rough around the edges (this I liked), packing a harder punch, they have polished up their surfer sound like a car bonnet glinting in the sun. It isn’t all bright slacker rock though, there are some more dystopian sounds in there which are reminiscent of their debut. ’Too Little, Too Late’ is bitier, with a harder rock edge, setting the scene for the last couple of songs, the spiky ‘House of Love’ and ‘Molly’ which exude a gloomier ambience. With the exception of interlude ‘If Only’, the one more down-tempo track- an expression of fragile self-perception and clouded experience: “I spend my days in this haze, I can’t escape”, Wild Nights lets rip like cannon fire. Most songs last somewhere in the region of three minutes, each one a fast, fleeting tribute to youth and lost love. PINS don’t mess around, rocking up, doing their business, and speeding off again down the road to surf city, which is theirs for the taking.

Sophie brear

hot chip why make sense?

at first, mainly due to the uplifting soul-esque vibes, that while apparent in the entire album, can especially be felt in this track. The whole thing is extremely funky, and makes you feel cool listening to it. For me, there isn’t one definitive track on the album that captures the whole breadth of themes and emotions.

Instead, I would say that the album benefits from being listened to as one continuous piece. Maybe I am a bit biased because I like this sort of music, but Why Make Sense? is definitely one to keep your ear out for, it made my ears feel good so definitely listen to it.

more accessible themes and conventional pop sensibilities, this is a commendable effort, avoiding a reproduction of the thundering, death-obsessed Ceremonials. Fans may be disappointed, though by the regularity of singles ‘Ship to Wreck’ and ‘What Kind of Man’, as well as ‘Queen of Peace’. As Welch’s belting vocals in the choruses are processed into near-clichéd bluesy layers over unchanging drum beats, the device fails to impress after being repeated in three songs, and loses some emotion. They are, undoubtedly, good songs, and ones that will wow listeners outside her fan-base. But they fall short of the greatness of older singles.

Zayn qureshi

For a month I have been eagerly awaiting the arrival of Hot Chip’s new album and, in anticipation of Why Make Sense?, I started jamming out to The Warning, the album which first sparked my interest in the band. An amazing thing I find in the style of Hot Chip is that they have this ability to smoothly shift the mood in their music, that one is able to really get in the mood to party by playing one track and equally be touched with a sense of melancholy upon hearing another. This phenomena is definitely not lost in Why Make Sense?, from the hypnotically uplifting ‘Huarache Lights’ to the slightly more sombre ‘White Wine and Fried Chicken’, this album has it all. It’s difficult to choose a favourite track because, honestly, they are all pretty awesome.

As I write this I am listening to ‘Dark Night’ and my God is this an amazing song. One thing that can be seen in all songs of the album is the power and energy that is conveyed across all aspects: the lyrics, the beats, the music, everything! The beauty of the whole thing is the sophistication with which it is done.

But do not be fooled by the awesome feeling the beats give you in your ears, a closer inspection of the lyrics of songs such as ‘Need You Now’, (forget what I said before, this is definitely my favourite track), exposes a level of despair that vocalist Alexis Taylor seems to have with things, “Never dreamed we would belong in a world, a world that’s just gone wrong”.

While listening to ‘Love is the Future’, I was pleasantly surprised by an appearance by Posdnuos (of De La Soul fame) spitting some mad bars, reflecting the true nature of this album; one that skilfully dips its foot into so many different genres while at the same time sticking true to its original synth pop roots. For me, at least, this was something that I did not catch

florence + the machine how big, how blue, how beautiful

Florence Welch’s otherworldly persona conjures up images of her flame-coloured hair, flailing arms and ethereal dresses, her powerful voice and harp-and-drum music machine overwhelming enough to shake the earth and wake the dead. How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful reminds us of the person behind this goddess, and is described by the singer as her “most personal record”. It would be a mistake to assume this is stripped down, however.

As Welch bares her broken heart and writes more about life and reality and less about ritual and death, her lyrics still allude to forces of myth and nature, and most tracks are still sweepingly immense.

How Big begins with the ironically bright and upbeat ‘Ship To Wreck’, introducing the messy heartbreak that rules the album. Rooted in

The most beautiful parts of the album are its quieter ones. For all her grandness Florence is no stranger to soft, gentler numbers, evident in songs from the first album Lungs such as ‘Falling’ and ‘I’m Not Calling You A Liar’. How Big introduces a new quality to the softer spectrum of her vocals, and it is just as moving as her powerhouse voice. ‘St Jude’, a rather poetic reference to both “the patron saint of the lost causes” as well as the European windstorm, is hugely comforting in its smooth harmonies, prayer-like repetition of ‘St Jude’, and her soothing voice that is, for once, completely at peace. The song is about being “comfortable in chaos”, acceptance and making meaning from loss, and its effect is entrancing.

Welch’s voice is light with feathered breathiness in ‘Long & Lost’, as she wonders if it’s “too late to come on home”. This melancholy track showcases her impressive range, control, melodic craftsmanship and expressiveness, without ever being excessive or mawkish.

The title track is clearly the star here, a glowing gem of hope and wonder set amidst the mess of destructive relationships and emotional turmoil. Florence has said that it is about being in awe of the world and its vastness, a fundamental feeling she would always return to; about “how to love in the world rather than trying to escape from it”. The repeated words of the title form the refrain, and it is simple but thoroughly captivating. Layered vocals give way to a full orchestral ecstasy featuring bright trumpets, providing enough light for all the storminess in the album. This is an intimate yet big, violent yet beautiful record, and Florence + The Machine have successfully found new musical and thematic directions without losing themselves. For fans lamenting the over-polish of production, the demos on the deluxe version showcase Florence’s voice in all its raw soulfulness— definitely worth a listen.

Christine tan

JLIN “When I was four years old I was at my neighbour’s house, the kids were playing on the block as always, and my older cousin was listening to footwork on her headphones. So I asked her, ‘can I listen to it?’ She let me hear it and I never forgot that sound.” Thus Jlin tells me about her introduction to the incredibly fast-paced and dance oriented genre, footwork, that emigrated from Chicago to take the whole world by storm over the past few years.

It might seem odd for someone on this side of the pond to learn that this music has been around for so long, having been brought to our shores only recently from people like DJ Rashad and RP Boo, but over in Illinois it’s been growing slowly for a long time. Jlin said she found it “quite comical” the way the rest of the world has only just discovered the genre.

Not that she was surprised by this explosion in the genre and the new international shape it has taken on, Jlin herself is on the British label Planet Mu where she recently released her fantastic debut Dark Energy, and said she is “pleased that it has gone worldwide and is continuing to grow every day. The world should hear the sharing of different cultures, different genres, it’s time for the arts to connect across the world.”

“Sounds good, but what do you sound like?”

Not that she pigeonholes herself solely as a footwork producer, although that’s where she “wholeheartedly started” her music now only contains elements of that genre. Her music has grown beyond the simplistic tag of footwork however and Jlin claims “she has found her own sound” and her music is now something that she “cannot identify.” This isn’t the same old hogwash that many artists tend to peddle however, about their music being absolutely unique from everything else out there and it’s on critics not artists to separate swathes of music into genres. Jlin is right she truly has sound her own sound beyond just footwork.

Traditional footwork involves repeated use of sampling which Jlin strays from radically in her music. Jlin said this move away from the traditional techniques of sampling was natural for her. “By the end of 2009 I had become good at what was politically correct to do for footwork, and when I had gotten good at it I became excited and everything. Then one day I had my mum listen to a song of mine and she goes ‘sounds good, but what do you sound like?’ When she asked me that it changed everything for me.” It is from this point onwards that Jlin told me she found her own sound, and I could sense the deep pride and identity she felt was in her music. She also kept pointing me back to the fact that this has been a journey for her and over the course of it her sound has undergone an “evolution” and a “maturation”. “I think that’s good, you can adapt, you adjust, it’s not always the easiest thing, actually the harder the better, for me.”

Her departure from footwork becomes even more clear in the video for ‘Unknown Tongues’. The video is black & white and features a sole woman dancing to the music in her own style, often quite patiently to the frenetically speedy beats. It’s a far cry from the admittedly colourful but male dominated circles in which relentlessly pacey footwork battles take place. She tells me that she “was very pleased that footworking was not in the video”. She tells me that by saying this she means no disrespect to footwork, but keeps returning to the fact that this is “my own sound” and to prove that clearly she felt she needed to make some departures from the footwork scene.

Jlin’s music is often filled with fascinating vocal samples that furthers her claims about its uniqueness. They often herald in the start of a new track, and then are sprinkled throughout the rest of the song such as on album closer, ‘Abnormal Restriction’. A woman screams “I am not one of your fans. Who do you think you’re talking to?” This is again a cry of defiance of singularity and separation away from the masses, so we discussed where this sample came from. “I was afraid to watch the movie Mommie Dearest for years after the first time I saw it, so I decided to take vocals from it due to the fact it terrifies me and put it with the intensity of my work. It was kind of like a little pep talk to myself, so I decided to watch the whole movie through and I started getting these ideas, and just kind of went with it.”

“THe only intent i have is that my music be impactful”

After delving so much into the roots of her music and its tricky relationship to footwork, we discussed the roots of footwork itself. “I think the style comes from Chicago but the root of it is in Africa.” There is certainly some truth to this, many people have traced the dancing side of footwork to the Gule Wamkulu dance of Malawi and there’s some evidence that they might be getting closer again with RP Boo, recently incorporating African genre Shangaan electro into a mix. On tracks like ‘Black Diamond’ there’s definitely parts where the drums in particular seem to have a tribal music influence but Jlin says this wasn’t “intentional”. “The only intent that I have is that my

music be impactful. I never go in with a concept or a blueprint in terms of making a song, every song I come in, in the dark. Whatever comes out, just comes out.”

Finally we discussed the album artwork, a piece of smoking coal on a white background. “When you take a piece of coal and apply pressure to it, the more pressure you put on it, the better the diamond.” She made it clear that the fact that the piece of coal was smouldering meant that the process had started. She then compared herself to the piece of a coal, a work in progress, “I’m constantly maturing, learning to grow, I’m nev-

er satisfied. Even when something great happens to me I think, well if I can get to this point, keep reaching, keep climbing, keep jumping off those cliffs. That’s what I like to do, most of the time it’s stressful but then I definitely don’t like to operate in a comfort zone. I think failure is very important. Your failure to me is more important than your success.”

Jlin’s debut album Dark Energy is out now on Planet Mu

Harry Rosehill

wills glasspiegel

nadine shah Nadine Shah’s latest record, Fast Food, released in April of this year, follows her debut Love Your Dum and Mad . It is an incisive, lustrously gloomy look at the messy nature of human relationships and of a world based upon instant gratification of desire. She says “a large part of what Fast Food is about, is the sudden realisation that you’re never going to be anybody’s first love ever again.” It’s Shah’s uniquely rich, decadent and expressive voice which commands centre stage in her music, transforming her sharp indie rock backdrop into the theatre set upon which to stage her brooding, operatic persona. She began her musical career in jazz when she moved to London thirteen years ago, singing in dingy basement bars and pizza express restaurants, gradually fattening up on dough balls.

It’s funny to peer beneath the larger-than-life voice and discover a charming Geordie lass who loves to describe everything as ‘lovely’.

Chatting with Nadine feels like having a natter with a good pal. We talk writing, frizzy hair and being miserable.

Shah tells me that she wrote Fast Food from a very insular perspective, it was “miserable and solitary to write” yet simultaneously therapeutic. She laughs that it’s very obvious within her friend circle who the songs are about, as she uses snapshots of real life to portray her characters, but “they’re not meant to be perfect portraits of people.” Her stock phrase when discussing whether she feels exposed by her music is “it’s a bit like hanging up your dirty laundry for everyone to see.” Whereas, debut album Love Your Dum and Mad was more inspired by film and literature; she notes Italo Calvino and Philip Larkin as a couple of her favourite authors. Drawing a lot of inspiration from film dialogue, she proclaims herself a huge fan of world cinema, the diverse film scene and array of film festivals being one of the major draws of London for her. Fast Food’s art work and that of its respective singles ‘Fool’ and ‘Stealing Cars’ are consistent in striking, block colours. Shah tells me it was inspired by the artwork from 70’s Italian horror films. She was going for the “femme fatale” look: dramatic beauty, slit throat; perhaps she’s the fated female of her own music, her raw, naked emotion bleeding out of her.

While she describes Love Your Dum and Mad as a portrayal of mental illness, “harrowing” to write; she says she never finds writing an enjoyable activity, as her “writing process is so

solitary.” Naturally, she gravitates, as so many do, towards the morose, the macabre, finding it most compelling. With Fast Food, she didn’t make a conscious decision to make an unpolitical album, but instead she picks up on the injustices in all our complex human relationships.

On ‘Nothing Else To Do’ Shah sings just the one lyric “there was nothing else to do but fall in love” for five minutes, yet her deep and shadowy vocals never get repetitive. Each time her voice resounds you are drawn back down into that dark cavern, magnetised by those luxurious satin tones. At times she’s stifling, snarling in her fork-tongued delivery, you can often feel like her cutting lyrical remarks are directed at you; “and you my sweet are a fool / You are plain and obedient…you called yourself a poet, tattooed pretence upon your skin so everyone will know it.” Sometimes you get the sense not that you’re under her skin, but that she’s creeping under yours.

“i love lots of miserable music, i love it” The darkness in Fast Food also seeps from the instrumentation; while her debut was mostly piano-led, on the new record Nadine takes up guitar for the first time, creating some unnerving, jarring high-pitched guitar cries. She’s often compared to PJ Harvey and Nick Cave, who she refers to as “damn Nick Cave” on ‘Fool’ and “old misery guts” in conversation with me. Perhaps the comparison is getting over-familiar. Though, she is a self-proclaimed huge fan of Nick Cave, also pointing to Depeche Mode as an influence (who she went on tour with, a surreal experience for her.) “I love lots of miserable music, I love it.”

Shah also leant her silken vocals on two tracks of Ghostpoet’s excellent 2015 album Shedding Skin: album hit ‘X Marks the Spot’, in which she also features in the music video, and ‘That Ring Down the Drain Kind of Feel-

ing’, after meeting eachother at one of her shows. Shedding Skin is an enrapturing fusion of softly spoken/drawled word and post-punk inspired, melancholic guitars. She laughs as she tells me what a “bunch of goths” the pair are, completely clad in matching black when they see each other around. Though Ghostpoet, aka London-based musician Obaro Ejimiwe, may be a fellow melancholic soul, Shah tells me that he is “probably one of the friendliest guys in the music industry.”

It took quite some time for me to track down the constantly shifting whereabouts of Shah, as at the time of my speaking with her she was on her European tour, and had just arrived in the cutesy dutch city of Nijmegen, with Paris and Brussels dates under her belt. She seemed a little overwhelmed by the response from the fans; this is the first time she’s sold out shows. The strangest part she says is having her lyrics sung back to her by hundreds of strange faces; those deeply personal words in the mouths of others, surely a very vertiginous sensation.

We talk festival performances a little. Shah will be appearing at both Latitude and End of the Road festivals, plus one secret (obvious) major UK mystery festival. She laughs that she must be in the wrong industry because she hates festivals. Mostly, she’s concerned that her natural unruly curly hair will break free of its sleek black goth confines and she’ll turn into a Katie Melua lookalike which “doesn’t go with the kind of music I make.” Far from being preoccupied with image however; she complains of the changing festival clientele, the fashion-oriented hipsters of recent years and refuses to ever airbrush her photos or videos, even if it means her mum tells her she “doesn’t look very nice there.” She’d rather surprise people by being better-looking in real life. Shah sure is a woman of surprises, her soft Geordie accent belying that deep, lustrous monster of a voice which oozes its way out of her, dripping with delicious darkness. I can’t wait to see what this fabulous lady has in store for us next.

Nadine’s second studio album, Fast Food is out now on Apollo Records. Catch her at Latitude and End of the Road festivals this summer.

Sophie brear

t e n t a t i v e

I really hate tents. They spoil festivals for me, I understand that they are what many may class as the ultimate experience of a festival, part of the fun, getting in the thick of it etc etc.

But I despise them wholeheartedly. I hate the temperature when you wake up being akin to waking in a mud filled oven, gasping for air as you clamber for the zip, the dampness that permeates even the priciest promises of dryness and warmth. The riskiness of leaving all of your preciously accumulated festival asos marketplace clothes in something that is no more than a glorified supermarket bag for life.

Yes this is pedantic and extremely precious, but if you’ve ever been grossed out by club toilets/public toilets/have any standards of hygiene, how can you survive? No manner of hand sanitiser will right those wrongs.

Most of all I hate sharing tents with people, I would be bold enough to say that there is no one I truly love enough to share a tent with - these are cramped pyramids where friendships are ended, you see the side of people you really, really never wanted to. I know of someone who camped with his best friend at a festival and was unaware that he would also be sharing with his array of bodily functions. I have another friend who returned to theirs to find their camping buddy passed out on top of their safe haven at 4am in the pouring rain- with no hope of resurrection of either parties. My friends and I have often resorted to sleeping in cars as an alternative, Note also that tents are not a choice, but instead a necessity, you don’t see Jay-Z pitching up his Vango 500 because he just loves being that bit closer to nature. They’re cheap

and easy, but on a weekend of hangovers and comedowns when you would value nothing more than a warm shower and a comfy night’s sleep - maybe looking at alternatives is the answer, just to make the pain of returning (once finally locating your polyester cocoon of nightmares) a little bit easier.

I think its time that people realised the novelty may be wearing thin, maybe we are a little less able to ignore the portaloos and the stench of other people as we crawl reluctantly out of our adolescence, or maybe I’m just ready for a winnebago and the epitome of middle aged boutique camping. Gladly.

Holly Hunt Illustration: Eleanor Sutherland

festival fwends Posh Kid in a Bucket Hat Festival of choice: Boomtown Probably goes to: Bristol/ Newcastle Most likely festival activity: K-holing Rack a line and pop a bottle, because Hugo, Hector and Harriet are here to show YOU a GOOD TIME. They love festivals because they’re just ‘so chill’.

High AF Hippie

This one time, at Berghain…

Festival of choice: Doesn’t like UK festivals but Bloc was pretty fucking cool… Butlins is the new Berghain Probably goes to: London/3 weeks in Berlin over summer Most likely festival activity: Smoking These guys just won’t tech-no for an answer.

Interests include: not-smiling, wearing black and talking about music they know a lot more about than you. Ear piercings are a must, and nose piercings only look cool on guys now.

Festival of choice: Green Man Festival/ Shambala Probably goes to: Brighton Most likely festival activity: Hula-hooping Harems, hula-hoops and happy happy happy times. Acid really is the future you know…

Apart from the tab I took yesterday…because that was in the past.

Leggy Crochet-laden Female Festival of choice: Bestival/SGP Probably goes to: Leeds/Nottingham Most likely festival activity: Figuring out how to upload disposable camera film onto Instagram Dress-code includes: sequins, glitter (everywhere), flowers in hair, braids and a plethora of crop tops. I’m not going to lie even I own a pair of those tinted John Lennon glasses….

‘Fucking On One’ Festival of choice: Parklife/Creamfields Probably goes to: Manchester/Liverpool Most likely festival activity: Fighting, over-use of the term ‘fucking choon’ Tops off, guns out, snapbacks on point.

These lads love house and are only here for the pre-Ibiza warm up. At-home activities will include going to the gym and promoting club nights. Who the fuck is this ‘B2B’ guy anyway?

Nude Older Person Festival of choice: Glastonbury Probably goes to: Prison Most likely festival activity: Unnervingly smiling Normally come in married pairs and are pretty friendly, you want to be open minded, festivals are for letting loose after all, but as soon as one of them opens their legs your open mind runs a mile.

charlotte morrin illustration: Eleanor mason

Rude Underage Sixteen Year Old Festival of choice: Reading/Leeds Probably goes to: The Rec Most likely festival activity: Throwing-up Strongbow Basically just you, four years ago, probably in a pair of tattered vans, and with the upper body strength of a flake of snow. It’s ok though, everyone knows the younger you start going to festivals the bigger your penis grows. Just saying.