FEATURE: Modern-Day Queens: Carly Rae Jepsen

FEATURE:

 

 

Modern-Day Queens

PHOTO CREDIT: Mark Griffin Champion

Carly Rae Jepsen

_________

I am writing this…

a few days before Carly Rae Jepsen releases her double album, Day and Night. I am writing this on 14th September, and the album comes out on 18th September. I am going to finish with a review for that album. There are a few interviews I am eager to spotlight before then. She is an artist who has been on the scene for many years, though she continues to push herself. You feel her best album is still ahead of her. Her debut, Tug of War, came out in 2008. Day and Night is her eight album. This Canadian queen is one of the best Pop artists of her generation. I want to go back to earlier in the summer when NME interviewed Jepsen:

“NME: Hi Carly! So, did the songs inform the album concept, or did the album concept inform the songs?

Carly Rae Jepsen: “You know, the honest truth is it was a little bit of both. I never want to have constraints on what the album is supposed to be until I allow myself to play a little bit and just reach for what I’m attracted to. Then there’s a point where I stop and look at it, usually with my close friend and collaborator, Tavish Crowe.

“I write a lot, so even in the beginning phases, I still had a pretty hefty body of work on my hands. So I flew Tavish to New York and said, ‘I’m really torn. I love this and I love this, but I don’t know how to make it go together.’ What I had was obviously the beginnings of ‘Day And Night’. The ‘Day’ songs were a bit more organic in nature, with more live instruments and a little hint of my roots in folk music. But then I also wanted to go in this darker, more experimental, synth-based direction, which is [what became] the ‘Night’ songs.

“The mix wasn’t making sense to me, but Tavish just said: ‘It’s like this amazing house party with an upstairs and a downstairs’. I was like, ‘That sounds a little like Downton Abbey, but I feel you’. And then later on, when I was back in LA, the idea of ‘Day And Night’ really got formed in my head. And we all got excited about the indulgence of not having to decide, and just getting to do everything that you want. I’ve released B-sides projects in the past, so I was like, ‘You know what, with intention, at age 40, let’s just do a double album.'”

Why is your new single ‘On Wires’ the right song to launch this era with?

“As an artist, you’re always searching for something that you haven’t quite done before, which feels powerful and exciting. This song is all of those things. It feels like a way for me to say: ‘Expect the unexpected with this album.'”

What’s the story behind the song?

“Well, it’s really funny to answer this question with the [added] perspective of the music video, because it’s brought a whole new meaning for me. When the song was born, it was more of a cut to the heart, ‘come hither’ kind of song. I pictured chasing this man through the streets of New York – just being unabashedly bold about it, like I almost can’t stand the pleasantries of flirting and dating. There’s something really exhilarating about being the pursuer like that.

“But then, by the time we shot the video – and I hope this isn’t too much of a giveaway – I was like, ‘How do I chase a man through the streets when I’m six months pregnant?’ It would look like I’m looking for child support! So my creative directors came up with this concept where there’s, like, this really beautiful tug-of-war between me and the microphone cable.

“And the more we talked about it, the more it became [a metaphor for] what was really going on in my life, which was me carving out space for my personal life within the business of music, while I’m in the middle of this pregnancy. So this tug-of-war I’m having with the microphone cable, it’s like the umbilical cord! No, that’s a little too far, a little too gross, let’s not go there. But in the video, I take the microphone out into the streets and you see it pulling me, then me pulling it back. And you kind of see who wins at the end”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Mark Griffin Champion

There have been a fair few interviews this year with Carly Rae Jepsen. Day and Night is the first album since 2022’s The Loneliest Time and 2023’s The Loveliest Time. The Hollywood Reporter published an interview earlier in the month. They say how Carly Rae Jepsen could have been a one-hit wonder. Instead, she has developed into this far more interesting artist. Jepsen discusses “what she's learned since her breakout hit nearly 15 years ago: "Where I've landed now in my career is the sweet spot”.

“Since the release of her breakthrough album, Kiss, Jepsen has kept one foot in the door of mainstream pop success and another in a more avant-garde space. Jepsen’s latest release, Day and Night, is a feat of balance, a double album that reflects the yin-yang equilibrium she’s striven for throughout her post-“Maybe” career. It’s divided thematically into Day, filled with sun-soaked psychedelic pop anthems, and Night, dripping in synth-heavy electropop. Jepsen hadn’t set out to make a bifurcated album; as with many of her most ambitious projects, it grew organically out of a back-and-forth with Crowe. She was heading on a trip to New York and was planning to show him the music she’d been working on. “He and I share music kind of like brother and sister in a very deep way,” she explains.

Jepsen presented her friend one song from Day and one song from Night, and he suggested they think of them as contrasting material for a single project rather than two separate albums, as she’d originally imagined. She continued to mull the concept back home in L.A. until one day, driving around the city (once again with Crowe), the idea of Day and Night came to her.

“As we were listening to stuff, it just felt like a song would naturally slot itself into the Night section or the Day section,” Crowe says. “Even before they were fully produced, too, you could still tell.” In the beginning, there were many pushes to divide the songs into two albums, but Jepsen says she “passionately disagreed” with that idea. “I wanted them together. They felt like two sides of the same thing,” says Jepsen.

The duality of the album mirrored Jepsen’s own upbringing. “I grew up in two different houses because my parents divorced when I was quite young and remarried to incredible stepparents,” she says.

It was a “very modern idea of co-parenting,” where she and her brother would switch houses every two days, both within 10 minutes of each other in the town of Mission, British Columbia. Her parents, all four of them, would have monthly meetings to discuss rules for the children. But the houses were very different. Night and day, you might say.

“My mom’s a little bit more free spirit, hippie-ish, and my dad’s a little bit more the opposite of that,” she says. “I feel like musically there was a connection. They all love James Taylor, they all love Joni Mitchell, but they also had different flavors in terms of what my stepparents brought to the table with their musical tastes.”

That duality made its way into Jepsen’s live shows, a mix of hits old and new. She considers it a win that “Call Me Maybe” isn’t the focal point of her concerts anymore, slotted within the set instead of as the closer. “I don’t think it’s a place to sit and hold resentment — what a useless waste of energy,” she says of the obligation to play the song she’s best known for. “If it’s a calling card that makes a couple of people happy, it’s not really about me anymore.”

Perhaps the most significant collaboration on Day and Night has little to do with the music. The album was made against the backdrop of one of the most transitional times in Jepsen’s personal life. While making Day and Night, she was falling in love with the man who would become her husband, musician Cole M.G.N., one of her collaborators and a producer on the album. Later in the process, as the album was being mixed, she became pregnant with their son. When it’s suggested in our interview that the album has effectively served as a time capsule for this time in her life, she asks, “Can I steal that?”

“I don’t want to say that my album’s only sunshine and rainbows and happiness because if I’ve done my job right, there’s some depth to it,” she says. But she’s not going to lie about how she’s feeling: “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been”.

Before getting to a review of Day and Night, there is one more recent interview worth highlighting. The Guardian’s interview is particularly interesting. I don’t want to drop in whole interviews, so I hope that what I have included makes sense and is not too dislocated. Selecting segments of interviews without there being too much repetition:

“In virtually any other era, Jepsen might be filling stadiums. But changing tastes aside, the music scene has fragmented thanks to streaming and social media, and the charts can be topped by a song that many have never heard. The one-time “megastar” is now more likely to be described as an “indie darling”. How does she feel about her industry?

“There’s a little bit that I don’t totally know or understand, or stay checked into,” she says, “and I don’t know if that aloofness just comes from the fact that it’s not super interesting to me.” Maybe it’s a survival tactic, she adds, “but the reality is, long ago I became aware of what my strategy would be, and I’ve stuck to it. I knew around the time that I made Emotion that I was more excited about having a strong, small-but-mighty group, than I was about trying to be confused and feed the masses.”

Now she knows who she is and who her fans are, but that knowledge didn’t come overnight. “I needed to take a second to figure out what it was that I liked about pop music to begin with, and what it was that I thought I had to contribute to it,” she says. “That’s why I went and did Cinderella, which was a really weird left turn.”

In 2014, less than a year after winning three Canadian Juno awards for Call Me Maybe and Kiss, Jepsen made her Broadway debut in a production of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. “I think everyone in the industry around me at the time was like: ‘What is she doing?’,” she says. But ticket sales were good, her stint on Cinderella was extended (“I love theatre, so it was like getting my cake and eating it”), and the experience reconnected her to her craft: “It was more of an artistic choice than a strategy, I guess.”

“I think what I feel about pop music is not that I love all of it, but I have a really strong opinion about it,” Jepsen says. “I don’t know that I can define it, but I was excited about trying to figure out the thing that makes me feel like I did with Rufus, where you know a stranger.” “Rufus” is Rufus Wainwright, whose moody 2001 song Poses first inspired her to “take a run at this music thing”. That unknowability is what still excites her about pop: “The idea that comes across, hopefully, in this album, is that you can play with so many different genres as ingredients and it can still be the thing”.

I am going to end up with Riff Magazine and their review of Day and Night. A doubler album is always a risk, as it can have some filler and it seems a little over-ambitious. There is a bravery in doing this. I do feel that Day and Night is going to rank alongside the best albums of this year:

“Carly Rae Jepsen has spent over a decade writing infectious pop songs about the rush of wanting someone. She’s finally found that someone on her new double LP, Day and Night, and she’s now singing about what comes next — from waking up next to them to dancing together all night long.

The album’s first side, Day, leans into sunny pop made for these final days of summer with breezy psychedelic pop and the warm haze of new love. Night turns toward synths, disco and stranger dance-floor impulses. It remains cohesive as one long project, though its length results in occasional moments of fluff.

Double albums aren’t new for Jepsen, though the B-sides projects have typically come as separate albums. This time, the two sides are uniquely connected.

Day opens with one of its best: “After All” is also one of the album’s most carefree and catchy moments. It sounds like being on vacation, with its jazzy piano elements and danceable chorus.

“I want to be the owner/ I want to buy you flowers,” she sings with easy sensuality. “Why don’t you take your shirt off for me now?”

“Habits of Creatures” continues that honeymoon haze, stripping away some of Jepsen’s usual maximalism in preference of a lo-fi, intimate sound. “If you want to, we could sleep in for the third time this weekend,” she sings, her airy delivery matching the song.

“Versailles” is more immediately familiar. There’s something in the chorus — the sickly sweet melody, acoustic guitars and handclaps — that sounds like pop straight from 2015. It’s bright without sounding like an attempt to recreate her acclaimed 2010s record, EMOTION. Though perhaps some of this album could use a little more of the euphoric, catchy choruses that are all over that album.

The quieter approach can come across occasionally flat, like on “Lonely Side of the Bed.” The song has a low-key charm but is less emotionally or melodically distinctive than those around it.

Then Night starts, and Jepsen pulls you toward the dance floor. Though it consistently pulses, the side of the project is still relatively relaxed in comparison to the maximalist pop of earlier albums like 2022’s The Loneliest Time and 2019’s Dedicated. “Never Let a Good Thing Die” opens on a great grooving bass line, though its chorus feels too restrained, with bubbly synths where a bigger release might have landed harder.

“Amalfi Coast” also plays with disco, while “You Don’t Know How It Feels” finds a balance between dance  music and the album’s more relaxed mood. “All of my defenses never had a chance with you,” she sings in a near-whisper, over a track that has flashes of Robyn and ABBA but still feels distinctly casual and intimate.

That looseness carries through the rest of Night. “That’s Just Me” turns sadder and dreamier, while “No Labels, I Love You” snaps back into something flirtier.

Night’s standout track is single “Motivation,” which broadens the record beyond romantic love altogether and may just be Jepsen’s thesis statement for her career and life. The uniquely minimalist house-influenced track is the project’s most oddball moment, full of dry production and filtered vocals that become incredibly infectious.

“We go hard in this family/ We love hard in this family/ I’m in love with my family,” she sings about both the family she’s growing at home and her die-hard community of fans.

With its length, Day and Night is inevitably uneven. But the space also allows Jepsen room to try new things and let her songs breathe—like the feeling of being comfortable and relaxed with someone you love.

Closing track “Super Sage” ends the album in its most lush, otherworldly soundscape. A vocoder introduces the song before synths slowly build around Jepsen’s most vulnerable verses of the album, which lead up to a sigh of relief: “We’re still alive, man of my life.” Across 24 tracks, Jepsen’s love remains the focal point”.

I am curious what comes next for Carly Rae Jepsen. You feel like Day and Night is her most important album. How nervous she is putting it out into the world. Once all the reviews come in and people have heard it, what comes after that?! Rolling Stone said in their review, “ To her, there’s no shame in airing out your baggage and confessing your feelings in a single song. Night closer “Super Sage” starts with Jepsen nervously pacing, worried she’s driving her lover to the brink as synths pile and pan like spiraling anxieties. Then suddenly, ­“Super Sage” rockets to the psychedelic-pop cosmos. The tempo picks up, synths undulate like a sine wave, and it all mimics that rush of heat one feels when they’re about to confess everything. Despite the Edenic imagery painted throughout Day and Night, Jepsen’s repeated gasps of “I love you” make for the album’s most romantic and vulnerable moment, full of stark intensity. Seven years ago, on Dedicated‘s “Real Love,” Jepsen screamed to the clouds about wanting genuine connection. On Day and Night, it sounds like she’s found it”. Make sure you grab a copy of the latest album from…

THIS awesome artist.

FEATURE: The Great American Songbook: Hayley Williams

FEATURE:

 

 

The Great American Songbook

PHOTO CREDIT: Zachary Gray for Alterantive Press

Hayley Williams

_________

I have featured…

Hayley Williams a few times before. She is one of my favourite artists. Whether leading Paramore, as a solo artist, or part of her new group, Power Snatch, she is one of the world’s great songwriters. For this The Great American Songbook, I am focusing on her solo material. I am going to end things with a twenty-song mix. However, I want to source a biography I have probably used before. AllMusic provide us insight into this incredible artist:

“Hayley Williams is a dynamic vocalist known for her work as the lead singer of Paramore as well as her own deeply emotive solo work. With her highly resonant voice, charismatic stage presence, and bold artistic energy, Williams functioned as a guiding light of the emo-centric pop-punk scene of the mid-2000s, helping Paramore earn four Top 20 Billboard 200 albums, as well as a Grammy for the 2012 single "Ain't It Fun." Over the years, Williams and the band expanded their sound, embracing an increasingly genre-crossing blend of '80s synth and dance-rock influences; a process that also found them paring down from a sometime-quintet to a trio for 2017's sophisticated After Laughter. Away from Paramore, she has collaborated on equally diverse projects with artists like B.o.B, Zedd, and Chvrches. In 2020, Williams embarked on a solo career with her debut album, Petals for Armor. The album debuted at number 18 on the Billboard 200 and paved the way for her sophomore album, 2021's Flowers for Vases/descansos. She returned to Paramore for 2023's Grammy-winning This Is Why before collaborating on songs with Blood Orange and David Byrne. In 2025, Williams initially side-stepped an album, instead releasing 16 of her own singles including "Mirtazapine," before collecting them as her deeply introspective third album, Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party.

Born in 1988 in Meridian, Mississippi, Williams moved with her mother to Franklin, Tennessee, in 2002 following her parents' divorce. Largely home-schooled, she spent much of her free time singing, playing guitar, and writing in her journal. It was during this period that she befriended guitarist Josh Farro, his brother, drummer Zac Farro, and guitarist Taylor York. She also began seeking out local music opportunities, meeting bassist Jeremy Davis while auditioning for a local funk band. After she introduced the Farros to Davis, Williams and her bandmates began working on songs together as Paramore. Their work quickly bore fruit in the form of a contract with Atlantic Records and in 2005, they released their debut album, All We Know Is Falling, on the Atlantic subsidiary Fueled by Ramen.

Over the next few years, Paramore built a devoted following with their exuberant, richly emotive brand of rock. As the lead singer, co-songwriter, and main lyricist, Williams was the focus of much of the attention the band received. Her big voice and undeniable charisma drew comparisons to icons like Debbie Harry, helping the group stand out as they joined the roster on the Warped Tour, while propelling the band toward an international audience. Their subsequent albums, including 2007's Riot! and 2009's Brand New Eyes, cracked the Top 20 of the Billboard 200 and earned Williams a string of cameos as a featured artist on other albums. In 2009, she guested on the New Found Glory track "Tangled Up." Also appearing that year was her first solo recording, "Teenagers," which was included on the soundtrack to the horror film Jennifer's Body. The following year, Williams returned to the upper reaches of the charts with "Airplanes," a collaboration with hip-hop artist B.o.B. that peaked at number two in America and topped the charts in England.

Following a split with the Farro brothers, Williams and her remaining bandmates, guitarist York and bassist Davis, released 2012's eponymously titled Paramore. Produced by Justin Meldal-Johnsen, the album found the group further expanding their sound, embracing a wider range of pop, post-punk, and funk influences. A breakthrough for the band, the album landed at number one on the Billboard 200 and earned them their first-ever Grammy Award for the hit single "Ain't It Fun." However, the success brought another split in the band, with Davis leaving amid a legal dispute over royalties.

Williams and York eventually moved forward musically after reconnecting with original drummer Zac Farro. In 2017, a rejuvenated Paramore released the Meldal-Johnsen-produced After Laughter, which featured an even more genre-open approach to songwriting along with Williams' hard-won lyrical maturity. The record also performed well, peaking at number six on the Billboard 200 and topping both the Alternative and Rock charts.

Following an extensive two-year tour, Paramore went on hiatus in 2019. Williams used the time off to begin work on a solo project, writing songs with York and Paramore's touring bassist Joey Howard. In January 2020, she debuted the tracks "Simmer" and "Leave It Alone," which featured a darker, more artistically minded tone than previous Paramore songs. The tracks were accompanied online by music videos directed by Warren Fu and paved the way for her first full-length solo album, 2020's Petals for Armor. Initially preceded by two EPs, Petals for Armor I and Petals for Armor II, the album debuted at number 18 on the Billboard 200. Nine months later, in February 2021, she released her second full-length solo album, Flowers for Vases/descansos. Produced by Canon Blue's Daniel James, the album found Williams playing all the instruments herself.

Paramore eventually came back from hiatus and Williams, York, and Farro returned to the studio. In September 2022, they released "This Is Why" as the first single and title track off the group's sixth studio album. Produced by Carlos de la Garza, 2023's This Is Why found the group combining an angular post-punk guitar sound with songs that were both personal and rife with political anger. The set went on to win a pair of Grammy Awards in 2024.

As that album cycle wound down, Williams was featured on Taylor Swift's "Castles Crumbling" from her Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and later, in 2025, she teamed with Blood Orange and Turnstile on "Seein' Stars" and Moses Sumney on "I Like It I Like It." She also appeared on David Byrne's Who Is the Sky? and Jay Som's Belong.

In July 2025, she released her own solo single, the '90s alt-rock-infused "Mirtazapine," as a WNXP radio exclusive. A few days later, 16 additional tracks popped up on her website for fans with a special passcode. On August 1, the full set of tracks was issued across streaming platforms. Following several weeks that saw fans create their own playlists of the tracks, Williams eventually combined them for her third full-length solo album, Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party. Produced with Canon Blue's Daniel James, the album found Williams in an introspective mood, touching upon themes of depression, heartbreak, and self-acceptance. In early 2026, Williams and James teamed up on another project which they dubbed Power Snatch. The three-track EP1 appeared on select digital feeds in February and featured shoegaze and trip-hop atmospherics”.

The brilliant Hayley Williams never stops. Such a versatile and consistently brilliant artist whose latest solo album, last year’s Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party, is among the best of the decade, I hope there is a fourth solo album from her in the future. Selecting twenty tracks across her brilliant solo career, we can hear the genius of Hayley Williams. She is a modern great in a league of her own. I love everything that she touches. Long may we see this queen’s music shine…

FOR decades more.

FEATURE: Once Upon a Time, Not So Long Ago… Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer at Forty

FEATURE:

 

 

Once Upon a Time, Not So Long Ago…

IN THIS PHOTO: Bon Jovi in 1986/PHOTO CREDIT: Patrick Harbon

Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer at Forty

_________

ONE of the defining tracks…

as the 1980s tunes forty on 31st October. Livin’ on a Prayer was the second single from their third studio album, Slippery When Wet. A number one smash and one of the most recognisable and memorable songs of its generation, I wanted to look inside this song as it approached a big anniversary. Slippery When Wet also contains You Give Love a Bad Name and Wanted Dead or Alive. Though nothing compares top Livin’ on a Prayer. One of those songs impossible not to sing along to! I do want to start off with Gold Radio and their feature around this working-class anthem. Livin’ on a Prayer was arguably the song that took them into the stratosphere. After this, they were on top of the world:

“Written with the backdrop of the second Ronald Reagan presidential term and the economic problems that brought the working class, 'Livin' on a Prayer' tells the story of a couple whose love pulls them through their financial hardship.

Tommy is a dockworker who isn't getting paid while his union's on strike ("he's down on his luck it's tough"), so the couple scrape to pay the bills with Gina's work as a waitress in a diner ("she brings home her pay for love").

Despite it all though, the couple have each other and take turns in supporting one another keeping their love and dreams alive ("She says, we've got to hold on to what we've got" / "When she cries in the night, Tommy whispers / Baby, it's okay, someday").

"It deals with the way that two kids – Tommy and Gina – face life's struggles, and how their love and ambitions get them through the hard times." Bon Jovi later said. "It's working class and it's real."

Are Tommy and Gina in 'Livin' on a Prayer' real people?

"Tommy and Gina aren't two specific people; they represent a lifestyle," Bon Jovi said, but maybe the reason for the pure emotional power of 'Livin' on a Prayer' was that Jon Bon Jovi and Desmond Child were absolutely writing from life experience.

Like Tommy, whose rockstar dreams were frustrated by the struggles of real-life ("Tommy's got his six-string in hock"), Jon had a pal who was a high school baseball star, but had to give up his dreams after he got his girlfriend pregnant, having to go and work in a factory.

As for Gina, when Desmond's girlfriend and fellow singer-songwriter Maria Vidal worked at the Once Upon A Stove diner, she got the nickname Gina because of how much she looked like Italian star Gina Lollobrigida.

And Tommy and Gina got another appearance in the massive 2000 comeback hit 'It's My Life' ("Yeah, this is for the ones who stood their ground / For Tommy and Gina, who never backed down").

How did 'Livin' on a Prayer' do in the charts?

After 'You Give Love A Bad Name' changed everything for Bon Jovi by going to number one on the Billboard Hot 100, the band had to follow it up with something big to prove it wasn't a fluke.

They did that and more with 'Livin' on a Prayer', which also topped the Mainstream Rock and Cash Box Charts.

It went to number four in the official UK chart, and topped the UK Rock and Metal Chart, too.

It's gone on to be triple platinum in the US and double platinum in the UK, as well as racking up 840 million YouTube views and 820 million Spotify listens (and counting)”.

There are a few other features I want to come to before I wrap thing up. Such an iconic song, no surprise there has been a lot written around it. Last year, uDiscovermusic explored this ageless classic. One that has been passed through the generations. One of these songs that will be played widely for decades to come. Whilst we all know this song and sing along, how many of us know the story behind it? I was interested to know more:

“A motivational anthem for the working class, “Livin’ On A Prayer” captured the economic hardship of the era. It focused on fictional couple Tommy and Gina who try to hold on to their faith as they struggle to make ends meet. While the song has become ubiquitous at festivals, karaoke nights, bars, and arenas worldwide for decades, it wasn’t initially favored by the band.

“I remember walking out of the room with Richie and I said, ‘Eh, it’s okay. Maybe we should just put it on a movie soundtrack,’” Bon Jovi told The Irish Times. “Richie looked at me and said, ‘You’re an idiot. It’s really good.’ I said, ‘I just don’t know where it’s going.’ But it didn’t have that boom-boom-boom bassline yet, so it sounded more like The Clash.” One listen to the demo, which was featured as a hidden track on the 2004 box set 100,000,000 Bon Jovi Fans Can’t Be Wrong, and you can hear what Bon Jovi means. The track is void of the pounding drums, ripping guitars, and that quintessential robotic talkbox effect.

“We had sort of written it like this spooky, moody, sensitive thing,” co-songwriter Desmond Child recalled on a podcast in 2019. Along with his work with the band, Child is behind Top 40 smashes like Joan Jett & the Blackhearts’ “I Hate Myself for Loving You,” Aerosmith’s “Dude (Looks Like a Lady),” and Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca.” Child continued: “Jon didn’t think it was going to be right for the direction that they were going into, which was like, hard rock, stadium rock. The song was so good that Richie Sambora and I literally got on our hands and knees, half-joking, half-serious, and begged him to record it.”

The final version of “Livin’ On A Prayer” was an instant smash. The video, directed by frequent collaborator Wayne Isham, was on constant MTV rotation. The song itself became their second consecutive No. 1 single following “You Give Love A Bad Name.” They were the first hard rock band to ever top the Hot 100 with back-to-back singles.

But the song has had an impact far beyond the charts. Following the September 11 attacks, Bon Jovi performed a celebrated acoustic version of “Livin’ On A Prayer” for the America: A Tribute to Heroes special. At the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, meanwhile, Jon Bon Jovi joined a city-wide Chicago singalong. The track has also inspired other artists. In 2010, Rihanna joined the band during a Madrid concert and later covered the song during her 2016 The Ellen DeGeneres Show appearance. And, in 2019, Michelle Williams covered it on The Masked Singer”.

Two more features to come to. In 2023, Produce Like a Pro hailed a Hair Metal epic. One of these songs that I remember being played a lot when I was a child. I was a huge fan right away and was captivated. It is a song I can play again and again and never really tire of. I am not a fan of Bon Jovi as such, but this track is among my favourites ever:

“One of the reasons this song is so powerful is the way it combines these meaningful lyrics with hard rockin’ instrumentals and Jon’s incredible vocals.  The bass player at the time was Alec John Such and is credited on the album, but it’s commonly accepted that Hugh McDonald wrote the bassline and played on the final version. Richie Sambora’s guitar stands out for its use of a Talkbox effect, and of course his polished and yet expressive guitar. Tico Torres brings a powerful drum and percussion part that perfectly matches the different elements of the song. The nuances of the percussion part (such as the chimes during Bryan’s keyboard intro) are one of the ways the song sounds so polished.  The way David Bryan’s keyboard is used in the song also helps it stand out from so much of the hair-metal of the time. We find a unique diversity of sound in the haunting synth strings, the way the rising bassline in the keyboard synth sets up the core tension of the song, and of course the pulsating chords throughout the song which has an underlying drive.  All of these elements paired with Jon Bon Jovi’s powerful and expressive vocals brings the song’s storytelling to life.  The melodic line contrasts between the verses and the chorus. The verses are characterized by descending melodies which require him to start in the tense sound of the upper register of his voice.  The falling melody brings out the tension and hard-times depicted in the song’s lyrics and are in contrast to the chorus which has the rising “whoas”. The chorus provides the uplifting response to the problems presented in the verses

At first Jon wasn’t sure the song was the right fit for the band. The original demo didn’t have the powerful, anthemic sound that ended up being released on Slippery When Wet. You can hear it as a hidden track on the 2004 box set 100,000,000 Bon Jovi Fans Can’t be Wrong. During the “Runaway to Paradise” fan cruise, Jon revealed the reasons for his hesitation during a fan Q&A:

“Ultimately, the song was so unique. It didn’t sound like anything. You know, ‘Runaway’ had eight notes, like a lot of songs on the radio at the time. Even ‘[You Give Love a] Bad Name’ was reminiscent of other songs that were on the radio.

“‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ didn’t sound like anything. So, I was sort of indifferent. I thought, Well, it’s different, but is it a rock song? Is it us?”

Desmond has stated in multiple interviews that he and Richie had to literally get down on their knees to beg him to give it a second chance: “That song had a majesty, a kind of upward lift that just exuded hope. And at that time, Jon was thinking about making a more hard rock record. So when we wrote the song, he was a little bit… the song a bit sentimental. It’s a bit soft, and he said “I was hoping we could rock harder”. And Richie and I literally got on our hands and knees and begged him to record it. I mean, half joking, but half for real. Just record it! See what happens…”

With the benefit of hindsight, we can now see how the elements that made Jon wonder whether the song was the right fit for the band’s sound, are exactly the elements that made “Livin’ on a Prayer” stand out from the rest of hard-rock radio and transcend into a classic rock anthem for all time.  The revised version of the song (the one that made it onto the record) is polished and tight. All the iconic elements – the synth introduction, the talkbox guitar effect, the deep, powerful bassline – came into the picture as the band worked with the producer Bruce Fairbairn.

Before his untimely passing in 1999 at age 49, Fairbairn recalled the moment they came up with the talkbox idea for Richie’s guitar: “We were digging around in Richie’s guitar effects box…I grabbed hold of this old tube and up comes this talk box, and I thought, ‘Stick this in, I haven’t heard one of these since the (Peter) Frampton album.'” Fairbairn was referring, of course, to Framptom Comes Alive, the best-selling live album from 1976.

All of these effects came together to create a unique sound – polished and yet hard-hitting – giving “Livin’ on a Prayer” the perfect makings of a hard-rock stadium anthem. “Livin’ on a Prayer” was the type of song to get a whole stadium of fans singing together. It builds and gathers its listeners in before exploding into the chorus.

“Livin’ on a Prayer” and the entire Slippery When Wet album were produced at Little Mountain Sound Studios in Vancouver in the first half of 1986. The album was released on August 18 that same year, and “Livin’ On a Prayer” came out as the album’s second single in October. On February 14, 1987, “Livin’ on a Prayer” gave the band their second consecutive number 1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 – “You Give Love a Bad Name” had hit the milestone 3 months earlier. It was also an international hit, hitting the number 1 spot in Canada, New Zealand and Norway, and peaking in the top 5 in Australia, Belgium, Ireland, Netherlands, Scotland, South Africa, Spain, Sweden and the UK.

“Livin’ on a Prayer” brought a down-to-earth, common-man attitude to the age of hard-rock and hair metal.  The December 13, 1986 Billboard review of the song declared: “metal muscle meets gritty reality in a tough, clanging rocker.” The song moved the sound of hard-rock away from the glittery glam metal of the sunset strip and to the roots-rock of Bruce Springsteen’s New Jersey. Much like Springsteen had a decade earlier, Bon Jovi was now addressing topics that mattered to people.

But more than just a hard-rocking track with lyrics that meant something….”Livin’ on a Prayer” became an anthem of hope. Further, it is an anthem that has transcended decades. In its excellent songwriting, it is also extremely adaptable – the song exists in different arrangements and formats that bring out different elements of its meaning and beauty.  In 1994, the band rearranged a completely different version for their Cross Road album – calling it “Prayer 94.”  In 2001, following the 9/11 attacks, the band performed an emotional, acoustic version of the song for New York – famously televised in the benefit concert America: A Tribute to Heroes.

The harmonic colors, the melody, and the powerful lyrics allow “Livin’ on a Prayer” to reach audiences in a variety of arrangements, but the song has never lost its original meaning as a hard-rock anthem for the common man. It remains a staple of the band’s live shows and one of the 80’s most beloved and often-played songs – even four decades later”.

I may bring in the same information more than once. But I feel it is important to highlight Stereogum and their 2021 examination of Livin’ on a Prayer for their The Number Ones series. I do wonder whether Bon Jovi will do anything for the anniversary on 31st October. It is a big occasion. Streamed over two billions times on Spotify, the video on YouTube has been seen over 1.5 billion times. It is this colossus of a song. There are few songs ever that have this same weight and legacy:

“According to Bon Jovi, the trio wrote "Livin' On A Prayer" "on a day when none of us had any ideas." They got to talking about all their backgrounds. Bon Jovi and Sambora had both grown up working-class in New Jersey. Bon Jovi's high-school girlfriend had stayed with him as he tried to land a record contract. (They got married in 1989, and they're still together now.) Desmond Child had worked as a cabdriver in New York in the '70s, when he was dating Maria Vidal, one of the singers in his group Desmond Child & Rouge. Vidal worked in a diner, and her coworkers nicknamed her Gina because she looked like the actress Gina Lollobrigida. (Maria Vidal's highest-charting single, 1984's "Body Rock," peaked at #48.)

When Child first came up with the "Livin' On A Prayer" lyrics, the song told the story of a couple named Johnny, Child's birth name, and Gina. Bon Jovi knew that wouldn't work, since his name was Jon. The song had to be third-person. Child changed the guy's name to Tommy, which is a better name anyway. (When I was six, I made one of my worst decisions ever, insisting that I wanted to go by "Tom" instead of "Tommy." "Tommy" sounds so much cooler. Fuck.)

Even after that conversation with Richie Sambora, Jon Bon Jovi wasn't really into "Livin' On A Prayer." Producer Bruce Fairbairn pushed hard for the song to appear on Slippery When Wet. In that Irish Times interview, Jon Bon Jovi says that the song "didn’t have that boom-boom-boom bassline yet, so it sounded more like the Clash." The demo version of "Livin' On A Prayer" sounds absolutely nothing like the Clash, and I can't even imagine how Bon Jovi even got that into his head. But he's right that it didn't have that boom-boom-boom bassline. It didn't have a lot of things.

The band and Fairbairn kept working on "Livin' On A Prayer," layering on more and more ideas: The synth-drone intro, the blazing guitar leads, the whoa-whoa-whoa talkbox riff. Fairbairn and Sambora found that talkbox while digging around in Sambora's box of guitar effects. (From what I've read, the talkbox -- a device built on a clear plastic chord that goes from your mouth to the guitar -- really hurts to use. It makes your skull vibrate and your eyes feel like they're going to explode. I love that.) The sound that the weird machine conjures -- like a giant evil robot doing the bass voice in a street-corner doo-wop group -- gives the song a whole new cinematic dimension.

The finished version of "Livin' On A Prayer" is light-years beyond that demo. The song only really works if it's all drama, if it explodes out of the speaker. However long it took, the band turned "Livin' On A Prayer" into a perfect engine of drama. They shaped it into a true soul-shaking cheap-seats howler.

There are plenty of people who will tell you that "Livin' On A Prayer" is the dirt-stupid lowest-common-denominator cousin of what Bruce Springsteen was doing at the time. These people are entirely correct. Springsteen had written his name in the history books by turning down-and-out Jersey loser life into grand, swollen opera. Springsteen had done it with tenderness and brains and a sense of nuance. "Livin' On A Prayer" does the Springsteen thing at the most base and obvious level, with none of the poetic language or the lived-in warmth. But what these people don't seem to get is that the bone-simple dumbness of "Livin' On A Prayer" is what makes the song great.

When Bon Jovi wrote "Livin' On A Prayer," Springsteen himself had just dumbed down his own sound for the 1984 album Born In The USA, turning it into stadium-status synth-rock. In the process, Springsteen had the biggest success of his extremely successful career. With "Livin' On A Prayer," Bon Jovi took peak big-'80s Springsteen and made it dumber, which was the smart thing to do. On paper, those "Livin' On A Prayer" lyrics look almost like Springsteen parody -- all that hard-times romanticism stripped down to pure theatrical gesture. "Livin' On A Prayer" goes light on specifics and heavy on fist-pump hamminess. That's why it rules.

Tommy and Gina are pure archetype. Tommy used to work on the docks, but the union's been on strike, and he's down on his luck. It's tough. So tough. Tommy can't support himself and his girl, and he can't even express himself artistically, since he's got his six-string in hock. Gina works the diner all day, working for her man. She dreams of running away, but when she cries in the night, Tommy whispers, "Baby, it's OK." And then: "Someday." That "someday" is a mythical time when things won't be so hard. Tommy and Gina don't know whether this time will ever arrive, but they have to believe in it. They have to believe they're halfway there.

Bon Jovi himself has said that "Livin' On A Prayer" was a response to the Reagan era and the suffering that so many people were going through. Reagan certainly did everything in his power to cripple organized labor in America; maybe that's why Tommy's union was on strike. But the lyrical concerns of "Livin' On A Prayer" aren't tied to any particular moment in history. They're elementally simple, like an early-'60s girl-group song.

The music, on the other hand, is extremely of its moment. Even more than "You Give Love A Bad Name," "Livin' On A Prayer" is a terrifying display of supercharged '80s pop-metal that just goes for the car-stereo jugular. The production is so clean you could eat off of it. The synths and guitars glitter and gleam. The bassline and the simplistic drum-stomp are practically disco. Everything on the song works as a hook. The verses sound like choruses, and the choruses sound like suns exploding.

Jon Bon Jovi gets clowned for being a bad singer, and he's admittedly not Luther Vandross or whatever. But have you ever tried to sing "Livin' On A Prayer"? I did it once, in a crowded karaoke bar in Red Hook, and I learned some hard lessons real quick. (I should clarify that I could charitably be described as a dogshit-ass singer. The mere fact that I had a microphone in public is an indictment of the entire concept of karaoke.) The song started up, and people seemed amped to hear it. I got through that opening verse feeling good. And then the chorus showed up and I suddenly realized that I could not scream that high. It just wasn't in me. I struggled through, but then that key change came along and I was fucking done -- out of breath, squeaky, pathetic, humiliated. I walked into that bar thinking I could do the things that Jon Bon Jovi had done. I could not. My man did his thing on that song.

It's not just that Jon Bon Jovi hits the notes, though he does. It's that he sells those notes. He doesn't just convey the beaten-down seriousness of Tommy and Gina's plight. He also embodies all the hope that they're holding out. He throws himself into that chorus with total starry-eyed devotion”.

On 31st October, it will be forty years since one of the biggest and most popular songs ever was released. I still feel it is relevant to this day. One whose lyrics will be adopted and taken to heart by each subsequent generation. That idea of a working-class couple struggling to make ends meet. It is something so many can relate to. Anthemic, epic and blood-rushing, we are going to be talking about Livin’ on a Prayer forever. Such is it brilliance. Nearly forty years after it came out, this anthem has lost…

NONE of its incredible power.

FEATURE: Untouchable: Garbage’s beautifulgarbage at Twenty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

Untouchable

Garbage’s beautifulgarbage at Twenty-Five

_________

THIS is a Garbage album…

PHOTO CREDIT: Rankin

that is right up there with their best. beautifulgarbage was released on 1st October, 2001. The follow-up to the acclaimed and commercially successful, Version 2.0 (1998), their third studio album was almost the end of the band. That is what lead Shirley Manson felt. As this article documents, in 2021, Manson looked back at beautifulgarbage and there was this fear:

“Garbage's Shirley Manson has said in a recent interview that at the time of its release, she and the band thought that their 2001 album Beautiful Garbage would mark the end of their careers. 
The follow-up to 1998's Version 2.0 was seen as a relative flop at the time, suffering from a lack of label-backed promotion while its lead single "Androgyny" failed to reach the chart positions of their previous singles.
In an interview with Classic Rock magazine, Manson describes the internal fallout that followed the album's release, saying: "I honestly thought that was the end of my career and that we were never going to recover. It took a long time for us as a band to regain our equilibrium and our confidence and our joy”.

I do feel that this is one of their more underrated albums. After following two big albums and then suffering some setbacks, the band did find their way back on course. They are still together today. That said, beautifulgarbage did reach number six in the U.K. and thirteen in the U.S. I feel that it has a couple of classics in there. I wanted to celebrate its twenty-fifth anniversary. I remember when the album came out. I was a Garbage fan, so I was very keen to hear it. Perhaps it is not as consistent as Version 2.0 or their 1995 eponymous debut. However, we should not dismiss or forget beautifulgarbage, as it is fantastic and worthy of investigation.

Albumism championed beautifulgarbage and urged people not to forget it. I am going to end with a couple of positive reviews. Even if the likes of NME were a little mixed, there was plenty of love for beautifulgarbage. I think that it warrants retrospection and new love ahead of its twenty-fifth anniverssary:

“The gristle-and-glam of Garbage’s “Why Do You Love Me?” was rock 'n' roll bold. The perfect Garbage single.

Shirley Manson (vocals), Butch Vig (drums, percussion), Duke Erickson (guitars, keyboards) and Steve Marker (lead guitar) were back on Bleed Like Me (2005), the album that “Why Do You Love Me?” calls home. But, the heat coming off of “Why Do You Love Me?” felt like a step backward from 2001’s beautifulgarbage, Garbage’s woefully misunderstood third effort.

It's a tale that’s been written and told. Leading rock act with an experimental pop heart is imprisoned by their genre. Said rock act sets themselves free to make music not beholden to where they originated from and suffers the consequences. However, beautifulgarbage did not start off as a self-liberating, creative coup d'état. Initially, the project was envisioned, on the sidelines of the Version 2.0 World Tour, as an assemblage of B-sides. Record label shuffling scuttled the idea, but it ended up as a glorious example of artistic serendipity for Garbage, as the band had recorded some new material at this time too. That music shared an affinity to the vibrancy of their smashing Bond theme “The World Is Not Enough” from October 1999 and pointed to a triumphant, semi-departure from the formula of their previous LPs.

beautifulgarbage still contains some of Garbage's familiar post-modern punk sneer―see “Shut Your Mouth” and “Silence is Golden”―but the album engages in “pop play” too, which opens up their adamantine alt-rock framework to new elements. These sonic variables include, but aren't limited to, electro-rock funk (“Androgyny,” “Til the Day I Die”), new wave (“Cherry Lips”) and vintage Brill Building balladry (“Can’t Cry These Tears”).

September 2001 saw “Androgyny,” accompanied with its scintillating Don Cameron directed video, attempt to hype the crowd for beautifulgarbage, which came closely behind its lead single. Though the record's critical reception was mostly positive, it didn't resonate commercially. “Cherry Lips,” “Breaking Up the Girl” and “Shut Your Mouth” bounded off the record to bolster its market value, fine singles all. Their chart landfall was modest.

Garbage retreated from what some perceived was a supposed creative miscalculation with Bleed Like Me and Not Your Kind of People (2012), albums that had the group sharpening their dependable hard-hitting sound. However, sonically speaking, those two LPs failed to excite the aural palate the way beautifulgarbage had. That all changed with 2016's Strange Little Birds, with its sound arc that cast an affectionate glance backward to the unsung adroitness of beautifulgarbage.

It's apparent now, outside of the glare of varying expectations Garbage was subject to at the height of their popularity, that beautifulgarbage is a Garbage album that is more than capable of pulling its own weight in their beloved canon. And it's most definitely worth a second spin”.

I will end with a couple of reviews. Those that saw the promise and brilliance in beautifulgarbage. I want to start off with Come to the Pedlar and their views on an album that deserves a lot more love than it gets. I wonder how Shirley Manson sees it now. I have written about beautifulgarnage and will always be a fan of it:

“Shirley Manson explores the higher range of her voice throughout the album, perhaps riffing on her own celebrity in her channelling of girl-group melodies and, on the brilliantly parodic ‘Cherry Lips (Go Baby Go!), a playful, childlike persona, who sounds like she’s sucking on a lollipop between lines. The old-style computer game riff that opens the track is a lot of fun, and the song works both as a pop song proper and as parody of one, particularly as the heavier guitars chime in for the chorus.

Second single ‘Cherry Lips’ is possibly the most purely pop song on the album.

Pop isn’t just an aesthetic though, but a theme. The constructedness of pop allows Manson to explore other kinds of cultural construction, including most obviously in lead single ‘Androgyny’, which anticipated the current cultural war over gendered bathrooms presciently: ‘Boys in the girls’ room / Girls in the men’s room / You free your mind in your androgyny’. Elsewhere, the lyrics repeatedly return to questions of silencing, as in opening track ‘Shut Your Mouth’, in which a woman appears to be told to shut up after being told to be everything to everyone (‘They say you’re a saint / You’re a whore / You’re a sinner / That he had you / He made you / He can’t live without you’), and ‘Silence is Golden’, which builds a deafening wall of guitar even as Manson plaintively sings ‘Silence is golden / I have been broken / Safe in my own skin / So nobody wins’. The brilliant shift from 12/8 to 4/4 time towards the song’s climax shifts the focus from the wall of sound to Manson’s voice, suddenly bringing the lyrics to the fore. And ‘Untouchable’ is the most R&B of the songs, the production breaking the instruments and vocals down into staccato noise

The record, again mimicking the pop record, is entirely without flab, with every track a potential single. The standout for me is ‘Parade’, a full-on rock anthem with euphoric chorus ‘As far as I can tell it doesn’t matter who you are / If you can believe there’s something worth fighting for’. The song is the most explicit to refer to the pop culture it engages with: ‘Let’s bomb the factories / That make all the wannabees’. Meanwhile ‘Can’t Cry These Tears’ begins as a lighter-waving torch song, beginning with what would usually be a climax, before returning to more conventional verses. The continual upending of normative structures is a pleasure reflected in the gender-bending lyrics.

The quieter moments also work well. ‘Cup of Coffee’ brings in a theramin for a B-movie inflected dramatic ballad, Manson whispering over the synthesised backing music. ‘Drive You Home’ builds around a simple guitar riff and layered vocals to offer a perfect end-of-night tone, ‘I never said I was perfect / But I can drive you home’. And ‘So Like a Rose’ deliberately takes the slick sheen off the production, allowing fractured vocals and guitars to gently lead into a song that ends with a chorus of wordless vocals singing the album out like a choir of vocals. ‘Nobody Loves You’, meanwhile, responds to the band’s recent experience of producing a Bond theme, with John Barry-esque guitars introducing the album’s most avant-garde, atmospheric piece.

I’ve called Beautiful Garbage a pop record, but more than anything it’s distinctively Garbage. The band are still present and correct – Daniel Shulman’s bass in particular shines out on several tracks, Butch Vig’s drumming seamlessly merges with the loops and beats, and Duke Erikson and Steve Marker’s guitars insistently remind the listener of the band’s grungier roots. It’s a masterclass in production, and an album whose sheen has not tarnished almost two decades later”.

Let’s end with Drowned In Sound and their glowing review of Garbage’s third studio album. As I do with all album anniversary pieces, I would encourage people to see out beautifulgarbage. It was perhaps their most diverse and rawest album to that point. It is a shame that it received a bit of a rough ride and got some mixed reviews, because I feel it is much stronger than that:

“There’s a lot resting on the third album from Garbage. After the enormous success of their self titled debut and 1998’s follow up Version 2.0 Shirley, Butch, Steve, and Duke (don’t you just love rock names) have taken their time over number three. The sample and synth rock blueprint remains but there is a change in the air. Garbage are older.

Not that the four piece were ever that young of course. Shirley Manson was, after all, a world wise twenty eight year old when she accepted the invitation to front what was initially a studio project made up by men in their early fourties. This means that unlike other bands on their third album, such as Ash, the six years spent between studio and stage reflects a time period far removed from that of many of those who started at the same time. If the lyrics are anything to go by beautifulgarbage is about the 20/30 shift rather than teens to 20s.

The sound is still a well calculated mix of ear friendly industrial rock, dirty samples, and cooling synths. Track one, Shut Your Mouth, pretty much sums up the feeling of the album, more swearing than on the entirety of the first two combined and defiant lyrical lines including ..would you confess if we asked that you nurture the urge to declare that it’s time to settle down with a man of your own, you want a baby, a family, a piece of security..shut your mouth!..

From then on it’s stylistically quite mixed. Single, Androgeny, is classic Garbage in the style of * Stupid Girl, with it’s pop hooks and easy to sing along chorus. Although it goes a bit *Dubstar in the middle eight. Can’t Cry These Tears, like, Silence Is Golden and Drive You Home, is a larger than life swinging electro pop ballad. It’s got all the Garbage trademarks, looping drums and crackling samples etc, but it’s utterly pop. Anyone from Britney to Atomic Kitten would kill for one of these. Except they’d probably drop the lyrics by about 40 IQ points.

Til The Day I Day sounds like PJ Harvey circa Meet Ze Monster with it’s dirty fuzz guitar and Shirley’s low spitting intonation and shrill peeks. Although the guitar riff does echo I Think I’m Paranoid just a little too closely. Cup Of Coffee is a dramatic and awesome ballad of mature break up, thankfully just a little too self destructive and serious to be grabbed by a tv producer looking for dumping music for his professional women and their relationships sitcom. Perhaps it could have done without the b-movie flying saucer sound effect though. So Like A Rose completes the cd, a dreamy laid back affair without the usual two and a half gigabytes of samples cluttering the simplicity.

Although some might argue it’s merely a mechanical material upgrade for 2001 (notice how it’s released on 01/10/01 - all those zeros and ones, creepy) beautifulgarbage should be seen as a good album in it’s own right. It’s not for kids (see the lamentable chart position for the current single), it’s for adults who don’t want to listen to Dido quite yet. Essentially the sound of reality without the "authentic" reality sound of moping blokes and acoustic guitars”.

On 1st October, beautifulgarbage turns twenty-five. You may be a fan of Garbage and know the album well or are not too familiar with the band. There are many highlights to be found on beautifulgarbage. So many write it off, but I would compel people to…

EXPLORE it in more depth.

FEATURE: Picture to Burn: Taylor Swift’s Eponymous Debut at Twenty

FEATURE:

 

 

Picture to Burn

Taylor Swift’s Eponymous Debut at Twenty

_________

EVEN if Taylor Swift…

has released better albums in her career, there is no denying that her debut is important. It was released on 24th October, 2006. Ahead of its anniversary, I wanted to bring some features and reviews together. Few knew in 2006 that Swift would become this colossus of an artist. There were glimmers of promise and brilliance on Taylor Swift, though she would soon evolve as an artist. By the time her fourth studio album, Red, arrived in 2012, you can argue she hit her first peak. I do love a debut album, as it is the first thing an artist puts out. Their life leading up to that. You can definitely hear the passion and talent throughout Taylor Swift. Even though this was a debut album from a relatively new artist, Taylor Swift reached number five on the US Billboard 200. Swift co-wrote or solo-wrote every track. There are some highlights. Her debut single, Tim McGraw, Our Song, and Picture to Burn. It is amazing that Swift released her debut when she was sixteen! Rather than repeat what other Country/Pop artists were doing, she did distinguish herself from her peers. I want to start with this feature from last year:

“Taylor Swift was 14 when she moved to Nashville with her family to pursue a career in music. By the time she was 16, she had released a self-titled debut album that was full of promise and which set her on the road to stardom.

Swift was a music-obsessed teenager. She was heavily influenced by her late grandmother Marjorie, a former opera singer, and learned to play the guitar by copying a Dixie Chicks song. “I grew up on country music, especially Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton,” she said. “At an early age, I would perform their songs around my hometown, at festivals, fairs, and karaoke contests.”

Released on October 24, 2006, her debut album was full of the energy and obsessions of youth. Particularly shrewd was her decision to work with an experienced songwriter Liz Rose, who helped sharpen her youthful ideas. They co-wrote seven of the 11 songs on the album, including Swift’s first hit single, “Tim McGraw.”

Rose, who was then in her early 40s, is the mother of country singer Caitlin Rose. While Swift had written her first song when she was only 12 – the autobiographical “The Outside,” which also appeared on her debut album – Rose was a late bloomer. According to Caitlin, her former bank-worker mother “didn’t start writing until she was 40, not even a poem. It was sort of an accident.”

Together, Swift and Rose also wrote the hit single “Teardrops On My Guitar” about a boy who is unaware that he is the object of his schoolmate’s affection. Rose, who described herself as being like an editor, said of their writing process, “She shared all those emotions with an old lady… She taught me to shut up and listen and let the artist write their own song, just be the vehicle. Hopefully, I taught her just the mechanics. She already knew everything. I also told her, ‘I’m going to help you tell your story.’”

The songs, written while Swift was at high school, have a small-town setting and girl-next-door charm, reflecting the emotional talking points of an observant adolescent. Some, such as the charming “Our Song,” were full of vibrant images and helped by fine musicianship. The talented and inexperienced producer Nathan Chapman, who played guitar, banjo, mandolin, and bass on the album, brought in some seriously talented backing musicians. On “Our Song,” for example, the fiddle is played by four-time Grammy winner Andy Leftwich.

In addition, dobro player Bruce Bouton, then in his 50s, was an experienced Nashville session man – having played guitar on records by Kenny Rogers – while guitarist Dan Dugmore had guested on several James Taylor albums. Percussionist Eric Darken was a veteran of work with Alan Jackson, Barry Manilow, and Lee Ann Womack among others.

The results were impressive. “Tim McGraw” was certified platinum as a single, while “Picture To Burn” – a scathing portrait of an arrogant former boyfriend, hailed as the first portent of the feminism that was to follow – became a fourth consecutive Top 10 single from the album in 2007.

In the decade or so that followed her debut album, Swift evolved from doe-eyed country prodigy to global superstar, acquiring ten Grammys and a fortune along the way. But she looks back on her debut with pride, including the song “Tied Together With A Smile,” which is about a friend who was a beauty queen who kept an eating disorder secret. As she said at the time: “I didn’t want to just be another girl singer recording other people’s songs. I wanted there to be something that set me apart. And I knew that had to be my writing”.

I am interested in this Pitchfork review from 2019. They look at her first five albums. How, from her debut to 2014’s 1989, there was this growth from Country underdog to a worldwide Pop sensation. Though it is very important that we consider her debut and how its merits:

“Taylor Swift’s self-titled 2006 debut arrived at a fortuitous moment for young women in country music, particularly those with crossover ambitions. The beers-and-trucks bro-country grip of Florida Georgia Line and their ilk was a few years away from fully tightening; Carrie Underwood had won the 2005 season of American Idol; and the Dixie Chicks’ defiant “Not Ready to Make Nice” and Sugarland member Jennifer Nettles’ syrupy Bon Jovi duet “Who Says You Can’t Go Home” were making inroads into Top 40 radio. (The Chicks’ anti–George W. Bush stance had gotten them kicked out of country rotation.)

The 16-year-old Swift crash-landed into this landscape with “Tim McGraw,” a saudade-drenched mid-tempo ballad that’s as much a love letter to music’s power as it is to a soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend leaving for college. Swift’s quivering low soprano made the lyrical details—her “little black dress,” the stalled-out Chevy truck, “the moon like a spotlight on the lake”—hit harder, and showcased her ability to make diaristic songs universally relatable. You can track the song’s quiet hope (“When you think Tim McGraw/I hope you think my favorite song”) all the way to Reputation closer “New Year’s Day,” while its clear-eyed view of time’s passage is reflected in 1989’s “Clean.” “I love writing songs because I love preserving memories, like putting a picture frame around a feeling you once had,” she wrote in Elle earlier this year, and “McGraw” shows how essential that ideal has been to her work since the beginning.

Two years earlier, her family had left Wyomissing, Pennsylvania and moved to Nashville in support of their firstborn child’s teenage country-star dreams. Taylor Swift showed someone who had been honing her craft since her preteen years, meticulously turning her experiences with boys and with her girlfriends into country songs that reflected the lives of her peers, whom she connected with via MySpace. (“Every single one of the guys that I’ve written songs about has been tracked down on MySpace by my fans,” she told The New York Times in 2008.) MySpace would morph into Tumblr and Instagram Live, but the impulse would remain the same.

The album turned out to be a solid, spunky-yet-reflective country record told squarely from the teenage perspective, as opposed to the “can you believe someone so young sounds like that” packaging that weighed down former teen sensations like LeAnn Rimes. While Taylor Swift’s chief genre signifiers, like fiddles and vocal twang, are rooted in ’00s Nashville tropes, the influence of millennial teen pop bubbles up in the bouncy music and in ripped-from-the-LiveJournal lyrics like the cheerily insouciant chorus of “Our Song” (“Our song is the slamming screen door/Sneakin’ out late, tapping on your window”). “Picture to Burn” is a descendant of JoJo’s “Leave (Get Out),” given a Southern-fried twist by Swift’s drawled asides (“alla yer best freeends”), her mockery of the dude’s “stupid old pickup truck you never let me drive,” and the plunking banjo. (“Picture to Burn” also showed that she was learning to hone her poison pen: In the original version’s first verse, she threatened to tell her friends the guy who’d wronged her was gay, a line she dropped from live performances shortly after Taylor Swift’s release. The album version followed suit.)

“Teardrops on My Guitar,” a longing ballad about an out-of-reach crush, presaged Swift’s eventual embrace of pop; in early 2008, her now-former label Big Machine released a “pop version” that added echo to her voice and a mid-tempo beat, dropping the weepy slide guitar that doubled as a realization of the song’s title. While Swift was hardly alone in reworking country songs for the “hits you can play at work” crowd, the ease with which “Teardrops” translated to straight pop showed that her deft melodic touch and conversational way with deeply felt emotions could scale to the widest possible audience. Today, her production takes its cue from current trends, and her subjects don’t need to be identified via online fishing expeditions, but her detailed lyrics and canny worldview were there from the start.

Back then, though, she had doubters. An Associated Press report on her early success opened with sneering from a Nashville bigwig: “Tell her to get back in school and come back and see me when she’s 18, and bring her parents,” manager and promoter Jerry Bentley scoffed. That his biggest client was Lee Greenwood, the man behind the hoary “God Bless the U.S.A.,” is almost too delicious; that the piece quoting him found his dismissals worthy of the story’s opening lines is depressing. But Swift showed—and her songs’ subjects learned over and over again—that she’d always get the last word”.

Although the writer’s opinion might have changed, in 2017, Jonathan Bradley wrote in Billboard that Taylor Swift was the best album from the icon. It will be interesting to read what Taylor Swift posts online when her debut turns twenty:

“To best understand that Taylor Swift, look to the album that has her name on it. Her 2006 self-titled debut, released a few weeks before her seventeenth birthday, is Swift’s foundational document; the ur-text that contains inscribed in its eleven tracks everything encompassed by the pop colossus she would ultimately evolve into. In 2017, Swift is a knot of contradiction: a country singer who does not make country music, a girl-next-door with an A-list of exes, a lovestruck naïf who slices her enemies with samurai precision. In Taylor Swift, these strands resolve and are made comprehensible.

“I don’t know what I want, so don’t ask me,” is how she begins “A Place in This World,” a light-footed and mid-tempo ballad that flutters with picked banjo and adolescent uncertainty. It is one of a number of songs that evince, even within the album’s Nashville professionalism, an unhewn quality that collapses the distinction between the kind of song an authentic teen would try to write and the teenage voice an expert author would attempt to replicate. It has that same searching naivety, expressed with unexpected proficiency, that made Swift’s friend (and arguable successor) Lorde so striking on first listen — though where Lorde shrugged with outsider indifference (“Don’t you think it’s boring how people talk?”), Swift had dreamy ambition. “I’m still trying to figure it out,” she sings.

The songs on Taylor Swift are the enactment of that figuring-out process. This is an interior album; its small town setting extends only from high school halls to front porches and rural back roads, but it takes place within the even smaller confines of Swift’s mind. One of her favored narrative techniques is to bind her tales in memory or dialogue or — in an even more deliberate nod to the inherent artificiality of storytelling — within the explicit language of film.

The first single and album opener “Tim McGraw” exemplifies this diaristic distancing: the hints of summer romance are filtered through memory (“Looking back on all of that, it’s nice to believe…”), epistolary recursion (the final chorus is “a letter left on your doorstep”) and the emotionally freighted sound of the titular performer’s songs on the radio, Tim McGraw’s tunes tying the couple together through time and tumult. For a song of Georgia stars and Chevy trucks, it takes place on an intensely personal scale; the dramatic arc crests and resolves not with anything so momentous as a reunion but when Swift manages to make peace with her past.

She would maintain this interiority as she grew into an older and more savvy writer, the settings of her songs expanding to encompass Greenwich Village in New York and the Hollywood intersection at Sunset and Vine. But Taylor Swift is affecting for how its details remain so sharp at so small a scale.

At this point in her career, her outlook was explicitly country-oriented, and she embraced the bounds of her genre as she reinterpreted them. Her knack for expanding prosaic detail into resonant universality is a country trick — “Our Song” is a romance told in screen doors and phone calls after curfew. She also puts her stamp on country’s interest in how generational continuity fosters community; “Mary’s Song (Oh My My)” is a familiar tale of a couple that meets, courts, marries, and grows old, but for Swift, the story’s crux is in the present day. After taking her characters on a close study over multiple verses from grade school to adolescence, she allows the rest of their lives (until ages 87 and 89) to pass in a few lines: adulthood was an ellipsis she would not imagine and was yet to experience.

That’s because Swift’s perspective was as much teen-pop as it was country — she sang of crushes parents, and schoolyard social dynamics, and her contemporaries included Miley Cyrus and Avril Lavigne as much as they did Rascal Flatts and Little Big Town. Performing in a genre still suspicious of hip-hop and R&B, her early live sets featured covers of Eminem, Beyoncé, and Rihanna; Swift spoke the language of pop radio as comfortably as she did country.

But if Taylor Swift demonstrated already Swift’s faculty with sorrow, it also showed how fully developed her potential for fury was. Infernos like “Picture to Burn” and “Should’ve Said No” were released into a country music landscape that already had Miranda Lambert lighting “Kerosene” and Carrie Underwood taking a Louisville Slugger to a cheating lover’s car; Swift took the rage back to high school. “Picture to Burn,” in particular, is tremendous fun: the deadbeat getting ditched is a “redneck heartbreak” who drives a “stupid old pick-up truck you never let me drive.” Swift was self-aware enough even this early in her career to toy with her public image: “go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy,” she taunts, anticipating the winking intimations of her own instability in the 2014 Billboard Hot 100-topper “Blank Space.” She was fine playing the field: “There’s nothing stopping me from going out with all of your best friends.”

When the 14-year-old Swift took up a guitar and persuaded her family to relocate to Nashville, she did so to pursue a career as a songwriter specifically, and she has always conceived of herself as an author before a performer. “I write songs, and my voice is just a way to get my lyrics across,” she told The New Yorker in 2010. The Taylor Swift project has long been marked by the tension between her writerly insularity and a grand determination to deliver to as massive an audience as possible.

That union of studied craft and pop megalomania is what continues to define her, and it is a duality rooted deep within her debut album. Taylor Swift is Taylor Swift in miniature, already formed: an essential and paradigmatic manifestation of the singer. Everything that she would ever become existed here already”.

I am going to end with this feature that discusses the legacy and importance of her debut album. It also looks at her subsequent albums (the article was published in 2024). It is staggering to think how far Taylor Swift has come in twenty years. Consider the opening words and compare that to where she is now in life: “On November 4th 2004, a bright and ambitious teenage girl walked onto the stage of the famous Bluebird Cafe to perform a mixture of both covers and songs she’d written herself, at just 14 years old. This wasn’t long after her family had packed up their Christmas tree farm in Pennsylvania and moved to Nashville so she could chase her dream of becoming a country music star. Little did anyone in that audience know, in just a matter of years, that 14-year-old girl would be a cultural phenomenon and an international star”.

“On the 19th of June 2006, at 16 years of age, Taylor Swift made her musical debut with the song, Tim McGraw. The sweet country ballad reminiscing on a summer romance was an undoubtedly smart way to introduce the world to this new talent. Leading up to the release of the album, Swift was playing the game to ensure it was successful. She was very active on MySpace, where she was constantly promoting, interacting with fans, and encouraging others her age to check out her music. She went on every radio station that would have her, bringing with her homemade cookies and handwritten letters as a thank you for playing her music, which only made them more likely to play her music again. Even though she was only a teenager, it was clear she had a mind for marketing. She understood that in order to get more people consuming her product, she needed to create personal connections with each individual person, rather than as a collective, which is a tactic she still employs even to this day. The self-titled debut album, Taylor Swift, was released on October 24th 2006. The two main collaborators for the project were Nathan Chapman, her producer, and Liz Rose, her co-writer.

While Taylor Swift is a solid debut, this record, like most debut albums, plays it relatively safe. No big risks are taken; it’s clear that Taylor is still finding her footing. Nevertheless, it is still an enjoyable listening experience. This record is an authentic insight into the life of a teenage girl. We listen as she vents about her struggles with love, high school, figuring out who she wants to be, and everything in between. She was essentially letting the world read her diary. This was part of what was unique about Taylor at the start of her career, and something that became part of her brand. Other young female singers at the time were singing much less personal songs about partying, being in big cities, and becoming famous; and they were being sung from the point of view of people who had been in the spotlight their entire lives.

But Taylor, who didn’t grow up in the spotlight, was singing songs about things regular, ordinary teens experience. Like the slow ballad, Teardrops on my Guitar, which is a song about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back, or The Outside, which explores feeling as though you don’t fit in with your peers. The reason why Taylor’s demographic was primarily teenage girls at the beginning of her career is because teenage girls found her music relatable. She created a ‘girl next door’ image. She wasn’t a superstar, she was an ordinary teenager. She was just like you.

But even though this album is youthful, there is an undoubted maturity to it. Like the track, Cold as You, which explores being in a relationship with someone who is emotionally distant, with chilling lyrics such as: “You come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you.” Or perhaps track 7, Tied Together with a Smile, which is a song about a girl Taylor once knew who seemed like she had everything, but really on the inside, she was falling apart. Listening to this collection of songs, you wouldn’t think they were written by a 16-year-old. It’s clear that this is a teenager who is wise beyond her years.

On this record cycle, Taylor played into the country archetype. While there are several poppish melodies, this album has its fair share of fiddles and mandolins. In the photoshoot, she poses by a lake with a guitar and cowgirl boots, and in the music, there are lyrical references to muddy pick-up trucks, faded blue jeans, and Christianity. She even adopted a somewhat questionable Southern accent, despite being raised in Pennsylvania. She was marketing herself as a stereotypical American country singer. This is also when Taylor began to construct the persona of a stereotypical “good girl.” She was polite and respectful, she never did anything edgy or rebellious, she never swore in her lyrics, wore revealing clothing, or talked about drinking. She was exactly the type of public figure parents would want their teenage daughters to see as a role model.

Taylor Swift was relatively successful upon its release. it peaked at number 5 on the Billboard 200, and Our Song earned Swift her first number 1 on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs. The album did what it needed to do, which was to get her name out there; it introduced Taylor to the world as a sweet teenage girl with a guitar and a dream. It was clear that this was a girl full of potential, the only question was where she was going to go next”.

Taylor Swift turns twenty on 24th October. If it is not up there with her most accomplished and acclaimed work, Swift was so grounded and humble at the start. People who knew her then remark how hard-working and was down to try anything. Even if her life and fortunes have changed, that is not to say Taylor Swift has lost the qualities that stood out in 2006. I did want to shine a light on Taylor Swift, as it is one of the most significant debut albums ever. In terms of what Swift would become and how her music would change. If her best was still to come, you can feel the roots and shoots working their way through her 2006-released eponymous debut. That drive, talent and heart…

WERE already there.

FEATURE: Famous Last Words: My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade at Twenty

FEATURE:

 

 

Famous Last Words

My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade at Twenty

_________

I have not really explored…

PHOTO CREDIT: Bryce Hall

a lot of My Chemical Romance’s albums, though The Black Parade is one that I really love. It turns twenty on 23rd October. I am going to come to some features and reviews for this album. A massive commercial success, it reached number two in the U.K. and U.S. The New Jersey band only released one other albums after The Black Parade, which was their third studio album. Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys came out in 2010. The band have teased a possible new album. For fans of The Black Parade, there is going to be a twentieth anniversary reissue that you will want to check out. Rock Sound provide more details:

 “In addition to touring and playing the album in full alongside a fresh new narrative through the last 18 months, the band will complete the story with this expanded collection, due for release on October 23. It can be pre-ordered from here.

The band had this message for fans about the release, stating:
“Twenty years ago, we wrote what would become ‘The Black Parade,’ our third record and the follow up to ‘Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.’ At the time, we could never have imagined what the record would mean for the band. All we knew is that we had made something crazy, and something we couldn’t wait to get it out into the world.

Today, twenty years on, we celebrate its release. For the first time, we have included everything we finished during those sessions in a single collection.

As importantly, we asked James Jean to revisit the world of The Black Parade and create three new pieces of art. What he has crafted is a beautiful collection of a few iconic characters from the record during that era. James is truly a one-of-a-kind artist, and so important to how this record was presented to the world. We are extremely grateful for meeting him all those years ago, and agreeing now to make something new.

Our hope is that you enjoy this collection of music and illustrations as much as we do, because we wanted to honor how timeless and enduring you’ve allowed it to be.

Thank you for marching with us.

To the death!”.

In 2022, Kerrang! published a lost interview with My Chemical Romance’s lead, Gerard Way. Paul Elliott interviewed him. Way discussed The Black Parade and the band’s influence. He also spoke about an infamous performance at the Reading Festival, in which the band were bottled by Slayer fans. I do wonder if there are going to be new interviews with the band ahead of the twentieth anniversary of The Black Parade:

“Let’s start with The Black Parade and what this album represents. Was it always the intention to make such a grand statement?

Gerard Way (vocals): “That was the big goal. Let’s be honest: did the world need just another rock album? It’s almost redundant to even make those anymore. It was like, ‘Are we gonna give them another punk album, another post-hardcore record, just another rock record?’ And the answer was, ‘No – we’re gonna give them the rock record!’”

When you’ve talked about the inspirations for The Black Parade, you’ve mentioned two masterpieces from the 1970s, Pink Floyd’s The Wall and David Bowie’s The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars…

“I hadn’t even thought it about it until very recently, but it’s almost as if we’re trying to spearhead some kind of neo-classic rock movement. Bringing the pageantry and the theatre back. Paying tribute to those old songs – not ripping them off, but a total tribute. We wanted to capture that glory, that over-the-top-ness and that essence of classic rock in the ’70s.”

In terms of its lyrical content, The Wall was a heavy album…

“Oh yeah. It’s coming from a place of a guy in a rock band playing giant shows in arenas, and there’s groupies around, sex and drugs. And yet to a 15-year-old kid with his parents on vacation – that being me – I mentally identified with the alienation in that record. You know, I’m not a rock star at that age. How the fuck did I get it? But I did get it.”

Did you feel that making a concept album was a risk?

“It’s a huge risk! But here’s the thing – it depends on your outlook. It depends on having faith in the world. We had faith in ourselves, ultimately, but faith in yourself only goes for far, because then there’s that little trigger in your head going, ‘Oh, they’re not gonna understand.’ But if you remove that doubt, you go, ‘No, they’re gonna get it and they’re gonna fucking love it!’”

You’ve said that you want The Black Parade to be a timeless album. What exactly do you mean by that?

“I picture the record as an infant, and we gave that kid every advantage we could so he could live a long life. The last one [2004’s Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge] was a sign of the times, and all of a sudden emo came out of that – and God knows why, but I get it. But with this particular baby – and I always picture a little fucking kid with a mop of black hair – we gave him every advantage. It’s like we played him Mozart when he was in the fucking womb! We sent this kid to the best school and we’re gonna make sure he stays off drugs!”

The Black Parade is a huge hit that has created a real buzz about the band, even hysteria. How are you coping?

“It’s fun! I got to tell you, we made a record like this to create hysteria, to create a big splash. So when I see the craziness and I see the chaos, I love it. And to go back to Reading, it was a prime example. [After that show], I met so many people that said that was one of the most inspiring shows they ever saw, that they’d never seen a band get that kind of shit and not walk off, but instead say, ‘Fuck you!’ And at the same time, if there wasn’t the chaos, the whirlwind around the band, I’d be worried, because to me that’s rock’n’roll – chaos, adversity, shit-talkers galore, I love it. When I see bands that I’ve never even heard of talking shit about us to get press, I love it”.

The first of two reviews I want to get to is from Rolling Stone. Even if there were some mixed reviews for The Black Parade, there was a lot of positivity for it. It is a remarkable album that I think that everyone should listen to. I first heard it when it came out in 2006, but I have been revisiting it recently. It still creates this real impact:

“My Chemical Romance may be the oldest young band in America. None of the members — singer Gerard Way, his brother and bassist Mikey, drummer Bob Bryar and guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero — is old enough to have bought David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs on the day it came out. But The Black Parade, the New Jersey group’s third studio album, is the best mid-Seventies record of 2006, a rabid, ingenious paraphrasing of echoes and kitsch from rock’s golden age of bombast.

The opening fanfare, “The End,” blows up like an outtake from Alice Cooper’s Billion Dollar Babies, with glam-Godzilla guitars and spook-choir hurrahs. “Dead!” is a sleek, bleak bruiser, like Queen’s “Keep Yourself Alive” in widow’s weeds. And in the hyperoperatic “Mama,” Way — playing a soldier up to his neck in blood, raging against the woman who gave him life — briefly duets with Liza Minnelli, who belts her two big lines only to have Way sing back at her with vicious obscenity. It is brassy casting, as if Minnelli has been dropped into a Glenn Danzig production of Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children. It also sounds like an idea Alice Cooper (the singer) might have had in 1976 while golfing with George Burns.

But this is not the Seventies, and My Chemical Romance are very much a band of their time — post-9/11. The first song Way wrote for the group (with ex-drummer Matt Pelisser) was “Skylines and Turnstiles,” based on his experience that day in New York, watching the Twin Towers fall in front of him. There is a lot of fire and rubble in these songs, too. And there are bodies all over the place — dead in the streets (“Welcome to the Black Parade”); near death in hospital beds (“Dead!” and “Cancer”); or just too numb to give a shit about morality (“House of Wolves”) or forgiveness (“I Don’t Love You”). Starting with a riff that stabs and stutters like an old Buzzcocks lick and packing a bridge that is pure Iron Maiden, “This Is How I Disappear” is an exciting, perverse goodbye, from one lost soul to the object of his suffocating affection. “And without you is how I disappear/And live my life alone/Forever now,” Way sings from the depths of obsession — and, it seems, his grave. The poetry is rickety, but the self-pity is arena-ready.

Next to that, My Chemical Romance’s 2004 album, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, is orthodox buzz-saw misery. Apparently, the band — which co-produced the vacuum-packed overkill of The Black Parade with Rob Cavallo, who also worked on Green Day’s punk-suite hit, American Idiot — now believes that if you’re going to feel sorry for yourself, you might as well do it with gusto. “When I grow up, I want to be nothing at all!” Way wails in “The End,” surrounded by what sounds like ELO with a case of G n’ R. The excess comes with diminishing returns. Cavallo and the group over-rely on the avenging-army drumroll shtick, and what is deliciously vintage for most of the record — Way’s bright, breathless yelp, with harmonies stacked to eternity; the lightning bolts of Brian May and Mick Ronson cutting through Toro’s and Iero’s widescreen grind — loses luster by Tracks Twelve and Thirteen, “Disenchanted” and “Famous Last Words.” The best last words should have been Track Eleven, “Teenagers,” a tight fist of T. Rex-style crunch with a great punch-the-air chorus: “They said all/Teenagers scare/The living shit out of me.”

Teenagers are the ones who should be scared shitless. They are about to inherit a hell on this earth that is more terrifying, day by day, than anything Way imagines here. In fact, the most realistic and contemporary thing about this album’s supercharged-Seventies Armageddon is his bitter, almost jealously guarded helplessness in nearly every song. Content to be the Queen of complaint (and damn good at it), My Chemical Romance offer no answers and give no hope — except for the shot of light that comes in the second manic half of “Welcome to the Black Parade,” whenever Way hits the vocal hook. “We’ll carry on,” he sings repeatedly, at full rock-hero tilt. He doesn’t say where. But the way he says it sounds great and worth believing, no matter how old you are”.

I will end up with a review from NME. The Black Parade was a departure and shock for fans who were expecting a repeat of 2004’s Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. As Wikipedia note about its legacy: “The album's popularity ended the dominance of emo pop, and influenced metalcore, pop and hip hop artists, and film soundtracks, as well as alternative culture and fashion”:

“You may want to sit down. We have some very upsetting news. My Chemical Romance are dead. And so is their friend ‘The Patient’. There was nothing that anybody could do.

Confused? Readers, the confusion hasn’t even started. ‘The Black Parade’ is an ostentatious concept-album-cum-rock-opera about death, and it’s about to turn the late MCR into the biggest band on the planet. The most obvious reference point is Green Day’s ‘American Idiot’, not just because both projects share a record label, producer, video director and an A&R department, but because it’s a piece of work that will challenge every preconception you ever had about the people who made it.

To recap, My Chemical Romance’s previous two albums have been one long horror story; ‘I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love’ and ‘Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge’ tells the story of two criminal ‘demolition lovers’ who are gunned down in the desert after their hometown is overrun by vampires. Then the boy makes a deal with Satan for the lives of him and his lover Helena in exchange for the souls of a thousand evil men. ‘A meditation,’ says Gerard Way, ‘on immortality. And this [new album] is a meditation on mortality.’

‘The Black Parade’ unfolds in the physical realm; with no eternal zombie afterlife to cushion things when the day comes. Our story begins in the cancer ward (nice), with the tragic, young death of our protagonist, an average Joe known simply as The Patient. And so the first song (after the introduction, called ‘The End’) is called ‘Dead!’ the pre-title sequence, if you will. And straightaway, we’re on brave new ground musically as well ‘a crisp, vast, and fiercely melodic kind of stadium punk that is barely emo in the slightest. Actually, its closest parallel is ‘Holiday’ from ‘American Idiot’. But by getting that out of the way first, they then divert from their Green Day mentors, blasting into power-duo tracks ‘This Is How I Disappear’ and ‘The Sharpest Lives’, both showing off this band’s new richness of depth and texture in glorious 3D-technicolour. As The Patient enters the tunnel of light we hit critical mass with ‘Welcome To The Black Parade’ and things begin to unfold. Gerard apparently believes that when the reaper comes, it comes in the form of your life’s most vivid memory. Now, the point is that The Patient died before he got the chance to really achieve anything, so his most vivid memory is as a child, when his father took him to the city to see a marching band. And the rest of the album soundtracks The Patient’s life flashing before his eyes, and it turns out to be a lot more colourful and varied a flashback than he was expecting. And this is where ‘The Black Parade’s genius reveals itself. MCR have moved so far from the emo sound you know, that they’ve even renamed their band for this album. Under their new guise of The Black Parade, the group have the freedom to adopt whatever clothes, styles or ideas are necessary to tell each chapter. If there is an overarching style it is of all things musical theatre.

The first truly staggering moment is ‘I Don’t Love You’ (this album’s ‘Boulevard Of Broken Dreams’), which sounds like Keane would if they had any edge and loads of big rock guitars. ‘House Of Wolves’, debuted at Reading, is the least startling, mainly because it pre-empts ‘Cancer’, the song most likely to get the newspapers’ backs up. A short bridging sequence, it’s their first ever stab at total, pin-drop sensitivity. Just Gerard and a piano, it’s a first-person account of death from cancer that packs an emotional punch so devastating and graphic that you could never call it rock’n’roll ‘ isn’t that meant to be fun? But MCR want to surpass rock’n’roll: it pushes the boundaries of taste about as far as they’ll go, but a daily listen is going to be just an effective way of making people stop smoking as the Allen Carr book. The mood then lightens with ‘Mama’, a vaudeville riot that manages to out-Gogol Bordello Gogol Bordello, made even more overwhelming thanks to Liza Minelli’s showstopping cameo as Mama herself. If things are getting a little too theatrical, then ‘Sleep’ gives us the big body-builder Tool moment and punches their heavy metal card; if only once, because next they have to reinvent Status Quo as Roxy Music on ‘Teenagers’; another amazing boxfresh MTV smash. ‘Disenchanted’ is the calm scene gearing up for a preposterous finale; which comes with ‘Famous Last Words’, where The Black Parade revert back to My Chemical Romance, stepping back into narrator mode, both moral of the story and cinematic climax to this remarkable journey, and a distillation of what they do best; an earnest, impassioned, and hard-fucking-rock anthem which sees them finally become ‘the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned’. It’s about making the most of every moment because after all, you never know when the parade (or whatever you’ll see), will come to you. Pure Hollywood melodrama, but if you find the climactic refrain of ‘I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone’ cheesy, you’re going to have given up sometime around track three anyway. For everyone else, it’s proper, er, lump-in-throat time.

There’s one little surprise left, but we laughed so hard that we won’t spoil it for you, except to say that it once and for all disproves the accusation that this band are somehow humourless, as if the album hadn’t done that anyway. ‘The Black Parade’ understands that real tragedy is inherently a bit funny, and vice versa, and it’s that fact which sees them leave the jibbering bodies of a thousand emo jessies in their wake. The truth is they left that baggage behind long ago. If there’s any parallel it’s with somebody like Billy Corgan; not just because of the eerie similarity of Gerard’s new hairdo, or even the marching band thing, but because both people have bigger imaginations than punk rock usually allows. But having been through their problems with drugs and psychosis already, MCR just seem too much of a finely-tuned juggernaut to fuck things up like the Pumpkins. This album has given them the freedom to do anything they want next, but for now this is one to file alongside ‘American Idiot’, ‘Doolittle’ and ‘Nevermind’ on your greatest US rock albums shelf. Oh yes, My Chemical Romance ‘ the moderately camp two-trick outsider’s cult you thought you knew ‘ are dead alright. Long live My Chemical Romance, the outrageously-camp, loud and righteous new kings of the world. Those bottle-chucking haters are just going to have to get used to it”.

The Black Parade turns twenty on 23rd October. Alongside the anniversary edition of the album, I am sure the band will take to social media to share their thoughts. With rumours that they might be recording new material, there will be a lot of anticipation from My Chemical Romance fans. The Black Parade stands as one of the greatest albums of the 2000s. It is one that turned My Chemical Romance into Stadium-Rock royalty. Go and spend some time with…

A phenomenal album.

FEATURE: Reborn in a Storm: Why the Announcement of a Raintown Fortieth Anniversary Tour from Deacon Blue Is Especially Exciting to Me

FEATURE:

 

 

Reborn in a Storm

Why the Announcement of a Raintown Fortieth Anniversary Tour from Deacon Blue Is Especially Exciting to Me

_________

IT is quite common…

for artists to announce a tour when an album of theirs celebrates a big anniversary. There are few that interest me enough to book tickets. However, on 18th September (this coming Friday), Deacon Blue will release tickets for the fortieth anniversary tour of Raintown next year. Playing fifteen cities across fifteen dates, this is an amazing opportunity for fans young and older to witness this incredibleand must-see thing! Released on 26th May, 1987, this is an album that I first heard when I was young. I am actually not 100% sure of the exact release date, as I have seen 26th May, 1st May and 22nd June, 1987 listed as release dates. The latter is listed on Deacon Blue’s YouTube account, so is that the correct one?! What I know for sure is that is definitely turns forty next summer! Deacon Blue were quite a big part of my childhood. Hearing their songs around the house and out and about. I vividly remembering hearing Twist and Shout (from 1991’s Fellow Hoodlums) as our family left the London Planetarium when I was very small. The band is fronted by the incredible Ricky Ross. He is their lead songwriter. The line-up has changed for its original incarnation. The husband-and-wife core of Ross and the amazing Lorraine McIntosh remain. I feel she is a major reason why Deacon Blue’s songs are so enduring and memorable. That incredible voice, and how she as this obvious and great chemistry with Ross and the rest of the band. On Raintown, Ross, McIntosh, the late James Prime and Graeme Kelling, Ewen Vernal and Dougie Vipond are credited. It is a shame that two vital members of the original line-up are no longer with us. I wonder if Ewan Vernal will reunite with the band for the show or the current line-up, which includes Vipond, Gregor Philp, Lewis Gordon and Brian McAlpine, will play. That core trio of Ross, McIntosh and Vipond give us that direct link to this amazing 1987 debut.

Raintown, I feel is underrated, but it is one of the best and most important debut albums of the 1980s. Even though Raintown was recorded at AIR Studios in London, it seems to be this concept of the struggles of urban life in the inner-city. That city being their hometown, Glasgow. The album is brilliantly sequenced. The singles and hits sit in the middle. So we have Loaded, When Will You (Make My Telephone Ring), Chocolate Girl, and Dignity. The latter being their best-loved song. It is a song again that I vividly recall from childhood. These songs that are so accessible and instantly memorable. Ricky Ross penned most of the songs, though he co-wrote with Kelling and Prime. Those much-missed members of the band helped create this timeless album. The songs still widely played on radio. Born in a Storm and Raintown the two opening numbers. Quite epic and emotional, the mood changed and lifts in the middle-third. Though people might disagree with my assessment. It is a toss-up between this and Raintown’s follow-up, 1991’s When the World Knows Your Name, in terms of my favourite album of theirs. Their second album has classics Real Gone Kid, Wages Day, and Fergus Sings the Blues. Ricky Ross one of the most brilliant and accomplished songwriters. How he could write these indelible choruses but also these poetic, deep and extraordinary verses. Even if Raintown did not crack the top ten upon its release, it is seen as a near-masterpiece. Here are details of a tour that will please fans like me. I have never seen Deacon Blue, so this is a perfect time to hear them perform an album that is dear to me:

“Deacon Blue will revisit the album that established their sound and identity with a major UK and Ireland tour in October 2027, celebrating the 40th anniversary of their debut, Raintown.

Across 15 dates, the Scottish band will perform the 1987 album in full during the first half of each show. A second set will move through their wider catalogue, connecting four decades of songwriting with the live production of their current era.

Ricky Ross says:

When we made our first record none of us imagined there would be an audience still wanting to hear it played live forty years on. To recreate the songs and the atmosphere of that debut album will be a great joy for us.

Although each night will feature Raintown as the first part of the concert, the second act will include songs from all our albums and we aim to make each night a unique experience. We are thrilled you are all still there to be part of another adventure and we are excited about coming to a city near you in 2027.

Released in 1987, Raintown introduced songs including Dignity, When Will You (Make My Telephone Ring), Chocolate Girl and Loaded. The album was later certified Platinum, as were its two successors.

The anniversary arrives while Deacon Blue remain commercially active rather than operating solely through nostalgia. Their latest album, The Great Western Road, reached Number Three on the UK Albums Chart, extending a catalogue that has generated more than seven million record sales, 12 UK Top 40 singles and two Number One albums.

By rebuilding Raintown as a complete live experience—and pairing it with material spanning the albums that followed—Deacon Blue are treating the anniversary as more than a retrospective. It becomes a live bridge between the record’s original atmosphere and the band they have continued to develop into.

instagram.com/deaconbluemusic

deaconblue.shopnylonmerch.com

Raintown 40th Anniversary Tour Dates

• 6 October — Belfast, O2 Arena

• 7 October — Dublin, 3Arena

• 9 October — Liverpool, M&S Bank Arena

• 10 October — Leeds, First Direct Arena

• 12 October — Hull, Connexin Live

• 13 October — Nottingham, Motorpoint Arena

• 14 October — Newcastle, Utilita Arena

• 16 October — Cardiff, Utilita Arena

• 17 October — Brighton, Brighton Centre

• 19 October — Bournemouth, Bournemouth International Centre

• 20 October — Birmingham, Utilita Arena

• 22 October — Manchester, Co-op Live

• 25 October — London, Eventim Apollo

• 27 October — Aberdeen, P&J Live

• 29 October — Glasgow, OVO Hydro

Tickets go on sale at 9am BST on 18 September 2026 via Live Nation”.

The band’s latest album, 2025’s The Great Western Road, is extraordinary. I hope the second half of the shows feature Wages Day, Queen of the New Year, Real Gone Kid, Twist and Shout, and Cover from the Sky. I love this song as it is Lorraine McIntosh on lead vocals. One of the finest vocals on any Deacon Blue record! I recall Raintown being played at home when I was young, but this is an album I come back to now. I am forty-three, and it still hits me hard. I want to finish with a feature from 2017 that was published by The Courier. Marking thirty years of Raintown, Deacon Blue: 30 Years of Raintown, was broadcast on BBC Radio Scotland and BBC Radio 2. I wonder if the band will reissue the album next year. Though the tour is going to be the big attraction. The song still sound so fresh and important. They have not aged at all:

“Fife-raised internationally renowned author Ian Rankin remembers 1987 well – it was the year his well-loved creation Detective Inspector John Rebus first made his appearance in print.

But it’s also significant for another reason.

It’s the year that while living in London, he came across the “marvellous” debut album Raintown which had just been released by Scottish band Deacon Blue, fronted by Dundee’s Ricky Ross.

Now the novelist will celebrate the 30th anniversary of the release of the landmark record when he presents the story of how they became one of Scotland’s most popular bands in Deacon Blue: 30 Years of Raintown, which airs on BBC Radio Scotland on Monday.

The album, released on May 1, 1987, spent 77 weeks in the UK charts where it peaked at 14 and became one of the most popular records of the 1980s.

Rankin said: “Living in London as I was in 1987 when Raintown came out, it was a breath of fresh Scottish air with a little bit of rain thrown in.

“Everything from the cover, of the photograph showing a slightly rainy Glasgow to the songs inside just spoke to me of home.

“A place that could be yes, wet and cold – could be atmospheric. But it was also a place with an awful lot of soul.

“And that took me right back to the music of my youth, to the country I grew up in – a place of industry and hope.”

Lead singer and former school teacher Ricky Ross, 57, who grew up in Dundee’s Downie Park area, just across the Kingsway south of Caird Park golf course, is interviewed in the documentary alongside his wife and fellow original band member Lorraine McIntosh, drummer turned sports presenter Dougie Vipond and keyboardist Jim Prime, as well as input from the record’s producer Jon Kelly.

The album, which referenced the Glasgow roots of the band and the struggles of urban inner city life, featured famous images by photographer Oscar Marzaroli on the cover – the view of a rainy day over Glasgow’s West End (with the Finnieston Crane featuring prominently) and, on the rear, a long-exposure capture of the Kingston Bridge blasting through the city centre at night.

However, it was the quality and desperate energy of songs such as Dignity, Loaded and Chocolate Girl which catapulted the band to fame – and the distinctive production values made possible by Kelly’s insistence that the record be recorded at George Martin’s famous Air Studios in London.

Ricky said: “Raintown was the song that we cut first. I remember it being played back on the big speakers and Peter Felstead our manager coming in. It did sound great. Dougie (Vipond) had this amazing classical percussion stuff that he’d got and there’s this amazing kind of drum that comes in. “It’s this brilliant kind of orchestral bass drum, and all these little things that were suddenly in the mix – the live energy that was on it. That was the song that changed everything.”

The first DJ to play the title track was Johnnie Walker on BBC Radio One.

He said: “Lorraine’s vocals towards the end of that song are just fantastic.

“I mean she’s kind of soaring like a seagull in the sky.

“It reminds me of that amazing singer who sung on Dark Side of the Moon – that sort of vocal fly really. She did a beautiful job on that. The production is really good. It’s very fresh. It’s very vibrant.

“But I think it’s the strength of the songs and the vocals from Ricky and Lorraine and the confidence they had which just comes over plus the fact it just has a magnificent theme.”

Raintown was set against the industrial decline and seemingly permanent rain of Thatcher’s Scotland. But times were changing and the gloom was dispelling. The hope and enthusiasm emerging from these times was increasingly being reflected in joyous celebratory music.

Dignity, for example, is about a man at the bottom rung of the labour market who saves up to buy a boat to enjoy the freedom of the Scottish Highlands and Islands – and the hope of a brighter future is reflected by an utterly uplifting chorus.

With other Scottish bands including Hue and Cry and Aztec Camera releasing material at the time,  there was a renewed emphasis on intelligent song writing, laced with a hint of Celtic passion.

Amongst them was Dundee band Danny Wilson who had just released their debut album Meet Danny Wilson a fortnight earlier.

Song writer and singer Gary Clark: “Scotland in the 80s musically was a really interesting place. It was quite eclectic. There was Deacon Blue, Hue and Cry. Before that there was Orange Juice, there was The Associates.

“But none of the bands really sounded like each other. Deacon Blue have got a really unique Deacon Blue sound. And that’s the thing about that album Raintown was that they had that sound right from the beginning.”

Deacon Blue also reflect on the loss of original guitarist Graeme Kelling – the “hipster” in the band – who died from pancreatic cancer in 2004, and whose multi-functional guitar sound played such an important role on the album.

“He was a pop star waiting for a band to happen,” added Ricky.

“It’s still a struggle Graeme not being around”.

It is tragic that Graeme Kelling and James Prime died. It would have been amazing having all the original line-up perform next year. Though I am sure that Deacon Blue will honour them at the shows. As I write this (Sunday, 13th September, 2026), Deacon Blue have just played a set at Radio 2 in the Park in Stirling, Scotland. If you are a Deacon Blue fan, on Friday (18th September), you can grab tickets here. Forty years of an iconic album. Raintown in full, together with a selection of songs from their other albums. It will be a truly monumental tour. If you are lucky enough to get tickets, you will be in for a treat. As I fondly recall hearing Raintown’s songs decades ago, I am excited at the possibility of hearing them next year. Raintown is an album that is…

SO dear to me.

FEATURE: Modern-Day Queens: Zoe Ball

FEATURE:

 

 

Modern-Day Queens

PHOTO CREDIT: Greatest Hits Radio 

Zoe Ball

_________

I have said before…

PHOTO CREDIT: Rachel Joseph/Comic Relief via Getty Images

how, when it comes to artists, how the media say they are ‘returning’, when they leave a slight gap between albums and singles. The fact is they have not gone away to return, but it is this assumption that, unless you are pumping out material constantly, you are seen as inactive. Perhaps not something that applies as much to broadcasters, but there was this sense that Zoe Ball has ‘returned’ to radio when she started her Greatest Hits Radio slot recently. Even if she briefly stepped away from radio to spend time with her family, I don’t think of this as a return. She, instead, has started a new phase of her career with one of the biggest radio stations in the U.K. I have been a huge fan of hers since the 1990s. One of our very best broadcasters, I did want to feature her in this Modern-Day Queens. I could not find too many interviews recently specifically about Greatest Hits Radio, though there is one I will drop in, as it is great to hear from her in this form. Of course, most of you will know who Zoe Ball is. She has been a queen of the broadcasting world for decades. I love her podcast with fellow broadcaster Jo Whiley, Dig It. Ball started her regency at Greatest Hits Radio on 7th September. Tomorrow is the start of her second week. She has shared her excitement of working as the same station as fellow erstwhile BBC Radio 2 broadcaster, Ken Bruce. On weekdays from 1 p.m., you can find out more here. The first song Ball played was The Kiki Dee Band’s I've Got the Music in Me.

I will come to some reviews of her Greatest Hits Radio start. This beloved broadcaster sounding very much at home. I don’t think Greatest Hits Radio is where she will end her career. I can see her going to another station in years to come. She has this curiosity and passion, though she may well decide that, among friends and former colleagues, Ken Bruce and Simon Mayo, this is where she belongs. After some turbulence, loss and tragedy, it is wonderful that Zoe Ball has this incredible slot on a hugely popular radio station! I want to come to Metro and their recent interview with Zoe Ball. Someone who has been part of our lives for over three decades, everyone hopes that the coming years are filled with success, happiness and stability. It is the very least that she deserves:

“‘I’ve been very blessed in my career,’ Zoe Ball, 55, tells us while heading home from a day on site at Reading Festival.

The broadcaster and first female host of both BBC Radio 1 and BBC Radio 2 breakfast shows is a pioneer to say the least.

Zoe stepped down from her Radio 2 show back in December 2025, with Emma Willis stepping in to take over. Months later the TV star said she experienced ‘grief and rejection’ after missing out on landing the job of Strictly Come Dancing host.

‘Emma’s amazing, we’ve known each other for years. It’s what happens,’ she tells Metro.

‘People do shows for a while, and then someone else does a show for a while. If Claudia Winkleman hadn’t stepped aside on It Takes Two, I’d never have got to do it. If Emma Forbes hadn’t left Live & Kicking, I would never have got to do it. So, it’s just a natural progression in radio and television. It’s what happens. It’s wonderful. And you need that evolution in telly.’

Now working on Greatest Hits Radio, Zoe tells us she feels ‘really lucky’ to have sat down with some of the biggest names in the business over the last 30 years.

‘Occasionally you get people who are a bit monosyllabic or not in the mood for a chat. More of the nightmares are technical, like when the tape wasn’t running and you’ve done a really good interview and you’ve done your best work, but on the whole, I’ve talked to all sorts of amazing people that I’m proud of,’ Zoe says.

‘I suppose Madonna was quite tricky because it was a bit scary and intimidating. Some of my favourites, particularly, are Barbara Streisand, Dame Julie Andrews, and Dame Judi Dench. I call them my Holy Trinity. I love speaking to Sir Paul McCartney. He always has stories to tell and he’s really generous with his time.’

But one interview in particular is brought up time and time again. Her 1994 chat with Noel and Liam Gallagher for the BBC music show The O-Zone shortly after the release of their debut album Definitely Maybe.

‘People take the mickey out of me for that interview everywhere I go,’ she laughs.

‘And my kids always ask “Mum, what are you wearing?” I was wearing a Kangol hat and a tracksuit top!’

Reminiscing on the interview she says: ‘But they were so charismatic, both Noel and Liam. I just remember being so in awe of them. There is something about them. I haven’t interviewed them together in a long time, but whenever either of them would come on my radio show, you just knew you were going to have so much fun.

‘They’re really open and honest, brutally so sometimes. But they are great lads and I’m a huge fan. It was amazing to go and see them live last year, it was an emotional night. I’m going to a screening of the documentary soon and can’t wait. I really do adore them.’

Known for her love of music, Zoe is still a festival lover and has clearly passed that down to her two children; son Woody, 25, and daughter Nelly, 16.

‘My daughter, is going to Reading Festival for the first time this year. She’s 16 and you can’t help but worry. She’s probably bored of me telling her to hydrate and have a nap. I’ve told her it’s okay to step back from the crowd if you get a bit overwhelmed,’ she says.

‘Woody loves festivals and we’ve watched him work really hard over the last few years. He drives all over the country and does six or seven gigs in a weekend. It’s kind of in his blood. He grew up seeing how much we loved going to Glastonbury and came with us when he was very young.

‘These days I like to go to bed quite early, though, have a cheese toasty and be in bed by midnight’”.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Greatest Hits Radio (@greatesthitsuk)

Prior to some positive reviews for her amazing Greatest Hits Radio afternoon show, this article from The Times highlights why Ball left BBC Radio 2. I do find it unnecessary and a bit gross they mentioned her salary, as that seems irrelevant and unnecessary. However, it is never about the money for Zoe Ball. She is one of the best broadcasters in the world, and she belongs on radio. It does seem like this new position at Greatest Hits Radio offers a better work-life balance, and the opportunity to spend more time with family:

“Zoe Ball has said she is returning to the airwaves in an afternoon slot for a commercial broadcaster because it gives her the flexibility to “be a mum”.

The 55-year-old presenter announced this week that she was to present a weekday 1pm-4pm show for Bauer’s Greatest Hits Radio from September.

She quit the BBC Radio 2 Breakfast Show, for which she was paid up to £955,000, in December 2024 to allow her to focus on her family, including her 16-year-old daughter Nelly, after the death of her mother. Now that her daughter had finished her GCSE exams, Ball said that she felt ready to return to radio.

“I lost Mum and I wanted to take some time and be there for my girl because I’ve always worked. I’ve never been around. But now she is loving her freedom and is [asking] ‘Mum, why are you still here?’,” Ball said on the Dig It podcast she hosts with Jo Whiley, who hosts an evening show on Radio 2.

“I’m going to be doing an afternoon show which is a lovely shift because it means I get to be mum in the morning and mum in the evening if I need to. I can be around if she needs me.”

Ball added that her failed “long shot” attempt to present Strictly Come Dancing had also contributed to her decision. “When the dancing thing didn’t happen I was a bit like,‘What am I going to do?’,” she said. “I still need to work — I need to go back to work.”

Last month Ball admitted that she had worked through “grief and rejection” after being overlooked for the BBC1 dance show in favour of Emma Willis, Josh Widdicombe and Johannes Radebe.

She announced her decision to join Greatest Hits Radio in a The Traitors-style parody video, alongside its other presenters Simon Mayo and Ken Bruce, who both moved from Radio 2.

Mayo told his colleague in the post: “Well Ken, I never thought we’d get anyone else from the old place.”

Matt Deegan, the founder of Folder Media, a radio consultancy firm, and the host of The Media Club podcast, said that Ball was another valuable signing for Greatest Hits Radio after Bruce joined in 2023.

“Ken had a huge impact on listening figures but they have drifted a little since. Targeting more Radio 2 listeners by signing Zoe is a good way to attract more listeners in again,” Deegan said.

“Radio 2 is in a bit of flux at the moment. Sara Cox is taking over the Breakfast Show from Scott Mills and her replacement on the Drivetime show is yet to be announced. Plus, Trevor Nelson is off due to ill health.

“Whenever there is uncertainty it prompts people to switch around so it’s a good time for Greatest Hits to be doing something like this.”

Greatest Hits Radio network attracted a weekly audience of almost seven million weekly listeners, according to the latest data from radio measurement body, Rajar.

BBC Radio 2 remains the most popular station with about 12.5 million listeners over the first three months of the year. This was down by about one million people from when Ball left the Breakfast Show at the end of 2024”.

There was so much anticipation around her Greatest Hits Radio start. How she would settle and what her show would be like. This review from i News is illuminating, as they write how Zoe Ball sounds completely at ease. Far from being nervous or feeling like she can be her true self at this station, she has naturally settled in right away. Given her talent and experience, that was always been the case. Everyone so relieved and happy that she has this comfort and welcoming, loving radio home:

“Greatest Hits Radio makes no secret of the fact that a central pillar of its identity is in plundering BBC Radio 2 of its presenters – and its listeners.

Perhaps, years ago, there was a little bit of cursory evasion, about it being a place for a certain demographic who liked a certain type of music. But since Ken Bruce’s defection in 2023, a tectonic plate shift that shook the foundations of New Broadcasting House and ignited talk of “crises” and “brain drains” and ravens in towers, the station stopped bothering to pretend it was doing something radical or different and just let its success speak for itself, as with increasing inevitability more Beeb-weary DJs and more evangelistic listeners left “the other station” and never looked back.

Which is how we find Zoe Ball’s new afternoon show promoted with the distinctly un-BBC tag line: “They might have Cox, but we’ve got Ball”. It sounds both like vindication and a threat.

The announcement that Ball was to join Greatest Hits in July – the same week Sara Cox made her energising debut in Ball’s former Radio 2 breakfast slot – did not come as much of a surprise. She had left her Saturday afternoon Radio 2 show in December, had struggled balancing her family commitments with the demands of the Breakfast Show in the months before she left that in 2024, and she had spoken on her podcast with Jo Whiley earlier this year – with her usual candour and vulnerability – about the “seven stages of grief and rejection” she experienced after not getting the job hosting Strictly Come Dancing.

She has of course been nothing but gracious about the BBC and her former station (for all her “ladette” history, she has always been an effusive personality), but there had just been the air of a rut about her – the suggestion that she felt overdue some kind of change. “I’ve tidied out the loft, I’d done all my runs to the tip. The garden is OK and I am slightly going a little bit mad,” she told The Times this weekend.

Greatest Hits, for the listener at least, is the opposite of change. Ball’s show comes after Bruce’s – “I’m so thrilled to be his radio neighbour once again” – and before Simon Mayo’s; it is punctuated with trailers for programmes from people like Paul Gambaccini, and one caller phoned in to point out that its title, Zoe Ball in the Afternoon, must be an homage to the late Steve Wright who was “always there, and I’m sure you’re going to carry that enthusiasm on”. Greatest Hits, in other words, is what Radio 2 sounded like until about five years ago.

And so Ball sounds exactly as you expect her to: maternal, relatable, reassuring, relentlessly positive and totally at ease around an A-list guest, the first of whom was Hugh Jackman. She was inundated with well-wishing, conspiratorial callers delighted that she has at last joined their club, which must have calmed her nerves (when 4pm rolled around she said she was a “bit sweaty”, and that she might actually sleep that night) and seemed to marvel at the playlist – which is good enough to offset any irritation from adverts, which I stopped noticing after a while.

After her opening track, Kiki Dee’s “I’ve Got the Music in Me”, she said with some relief “they really do play the best tunes around here,” and given Abba, Fleetwood Mac, Blondie, America, Bryan Ferry and Everything But the Girl followed, it was impossible to argue.

Relief, I imagine, is what most ex-Radio 2 presenters probably feel once they get behind the Greatest Hits decks. Cox sounded invigorated and in command when she launched her Radio 2 Breakfast Show this summer, and she had to: the stakes were high, as the BBC fights to prevent its listeners from fleeing to commercial stations. But no such pressure hangs over the DJs on Greatest Hits, who I understand are very well remunerated (though Ball had been the BBC’s second-highest earner) and do not bear the responsibility of preserving the future of the BBC or fulfilling its charter or representing its values or proving they are worth the licence fee.

They don’t have to move with the times. They don’t have to innovate. They don’t have to appeal to new generations. They don’t even have to play any new music. Not doing that, in fact, is exactly what has made the station so formidable.

Ball doesn’t sound like a woman unleashed on Greatest Hits – she sounds at ease. It’s familiar, it’s comfortable, it is another reminder that a “home” and community is still there for listeners who feel that endless change and schedule shake-ups and retirements and deaths and defections have left Radio 2 a strange and different place. I’m afraid the BBC probably should be worried”.

I will end with this Observer review from Miranda Sawyer. The reception on social media has been glowing. Zoe Ball has this sort of widespread admiration reserved for a special few. Even though the playlists at Greatest Hits Radio can be challenging in terms of sharp swerves and energies between songs – going between genres and extremes lacks consistency and balance -, that is a minor flaw in an otherwise triumphant show:

“Gen X treasure Zoe Ball started her new show on Greatest Hits Radio last week, sandwiched snug as a bug between fellow former Radio 2-ers Ken Bruce and Simon Mayo in the 1pm to 4pm slot. Afternoon is a good fit for Ball. Her upbeat warmth is perfect for daytime listening, and there’s less of the jagged adrenaline rush of breakfast, which occasionally made her sound frenetic in her previous show. Here she’s like the nice art teacher who stops you from getting sleepy after lunch with her bright T-shirts and silly jokes. You hope her innate quirkiness will be allowed to flourish. Commercial radio can be bland as well as cheery.

Opening with Kiki Dee’s I’ve Got the Music in Me on Monday, Ball seemed a teeny bit nervous, though by the end of the show sounded far more relaxed. On Tuesday, she got straight into things – “Let’s have some fun with some lunchtime anthems, gang!” – and banged on Rock the Casbah. That’s more like it! Her listener topic for the day, inspired by the art thieves who dropped a couple of Renoirs on their way out, was the seemingly simple “What have you dropped?” It worked excellently: listeners telling tales of dropping frozen Christmas turkeys on their toes, precious teapots on concrete floors, three-tier wedding cakes down the stairs and, more than once, their own small children.

Not everything is rosy: Greatest Hits Radio’s music policy can lead to weird emotional whiplash. Van Morrison’s Moondance, followed by DeBarge’s Rhythm of the Night and then EMF’s Unbelievable is a seasick-inducing ride, though Ball surfed it like the pro she is. Chatting to Mayo at the end of her show, she joked that there was still time for the station’s bosses to change their minds about her new job. As I Say a Little Prayer came up on the faders, we could hear Mayo commenting mildly: “Oh, I think we all know this is a very good booking.” It is”.

The brilliant Zoe Ball is one of my absolute favourite broadcasters. Her new home is at Greatest Hits Radio, and you can tell how important it is to her. Sharing the same building as Ken Bruce, there is this old friendship reignited. I can see her being at Greatest Hits Radio for many years to come. Whether there is another radio chapter after this has yet to be seen, though Ball will be in no hurry to even consider it. After some hard years and turbulent moments, let’s hope this is the start of a golden and happy phase for Zoe Ball! Her radio fans and family wish her…

ALL the very best.

FEATURE: Snowed in At Wheeler Street: Kate Bush’s 50 Words for Snow at Fifteen

FEATURE:

 

 

Snowed in At Wheeler Street

Kate Bush’s 50 Words for Snow at Fifteen

_________

AT the time…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in promotional shot for 2011’s 50 Words for Snow

of writing this feature (13th September, 2026), 50 Words for Snow is Kate Bush’s most recent studio album. She has not announced anything to follow it. That came out on 21st November, 2011. I am looking to its fifteenth anniversary. I am going to end with a few features where Bush’s albums are ranked. I feel 50 Words for Snow is underrated. Maybe not in her top five, I feel it does get placed too low. Whereas others from her have had more and shorter songs, 50 Words for Snow has seven longer tracks. People not as willing to invest time in songs that ask for more time to unfold and unfurl. More akin to Classical or Jazz pieces, I do think that there is something epic and immersive to be discovered. Even if a couple of the tracks did not get a load of critical love – such as Snowed in At Wheeler Street and 50 Words for Snow -, I do think that the album is magnificent. I am going to come to some interviews before getting to some reviews. The first of two interviews from 2011 I want to cover off is for the U.S. publication, HuffPost:

“Mike Ragogna: Kate Bush, wow. How are you?

Kate Bush: I'm doing great, Mike. Thanks for having me.

MR: I already said, "Wow," right? Okay, getting to your new album 50 Words For Snow, can you tell us a little bit about what inspired it?

KB: Well, I guess originally, I thought I would try to make a kind of wintry album, then it quickly became all about snow as I began writing.

MR: And lyrically, it's like the songs emulate the complexity and uniqueness of each snowflake.

KB: Yeah. It's so fascinating to think about how each snowflake is completely individual -- there are millions and millions of them but each one is so unique. I think snow is so evocative and has such a powerful atmosphere. Here in the UK, we don't really get much snow, and I suppose that's why it's such a precious thing to us. What I was trying to do is create an atmosphere that was run throughout the album that somehow felt like there was a kind of snowy landscape, you know?

MR: Absolutely, especially with songs like "Lake Tahoe."

KB: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I don't think that that one is specifically all about snow, but I like to think that the atmosphere is still running from that first track.

MR: Could you go into some background on "Misty"?

KB: The thing about that song, aside from having sort of unusual subject matter, is that it's a very long song -- it's the longest song on the album. I think it runs about 14 minutes. It wasn't even that I set out to write a song that long, but I was trying to explore the idea of working with longer song structures and moving away from the more traditional form. I wanted to be able to tell the story through a much longer piece of time and so I was able to go through various elements of the story and, hopefully, make the song build. The subject matter is sort of just about a girl who builds a snowman, and later the snowman comes to visit her in her bedroom.

MR: As snowmen often do.

KB: Well, I don't know about that unless people just keep quiet about it. (laughs)

MR: Would you say that this album is maybe a continuation of the approaches you began with the albums Red Shoes and Sensual World?

KB: Yeah, I guess so. For me, each album is a sort of an evolving process; it's quite a natural progression to move from one album to the next. So, yes, there are a lot of connections with all of the albums. I guess the main thing is that I've started exploring much longer song structures on this album. I would say that that's what makes this one a little different than previous albums.

MR: Kate, you now have so much experience through your music and working in the industry, is there any advice that you'd like to pass on to new artists?

KB: Well, I think it's a really tough world for new artists. If you believe in what you do and you really want to be in music, just stick at it. It's always a learning process. Enjoy it because I think making music is a privilege, really. In an ideal world, it should also always be fun. As much as possible, make it fun.

MR: Speaking of beautiful voices, the album includes a track called "Snowed In At Wheeler Street" with Sir Elton John, right? What was it like working with him?

KB: It was fantastic. He is one of my great musical heroes, and when I wrote the song, I very much had him in mind and hoped that he would be interested enough to come and sing on the song. At the risk of sounding corny, it was like a dream come true having him come into the studio and sing so beautifully. I think his performance on the song is so fantastic; it's so emotive. I love him singing in that lower key. I really couldn't have been happier with what he brought to the track.

MR: It really is fantastic. His Elton John album is one of my favorites.

KB: I guess I love that album, but my very favorite album of his was Madman Across The Water. But I love everything Elton does”.

I do want to bring in an interview I have included in other features. John Doran chatted with Kate Bush for The Quietus to discuss the wonderful 50 Words for Snow. They republished the interview in 2014 to coincide with Kate Bush’s residency, Before the Dawn, coming to the Eventim Apollo in London. I do think that 50 Words for Snow is a lot finer and applaud-worthy than it is given credit for:

“What are your memories of snow like from childhood? Was playing in the snow something you really looked forward to?

KB: Well… yeah. Do you know any children who don’t look forward to playing in the snow?

I know what you’re saying but there are some who like it more than others…

KB: …

Er…

KB: … Are you knackered?

Yeah.

KB: Have you been up all night?

Yeah, I have.

KB: [laughs uproariously and good naturedly] Well John do you like snow? Don’t you think snow is a thing of wonder and beauty?

I think that if I lived outside of London, maybe in the countryside where it doesn’t turn to a mixture of slush and hazardous black ice, I might like it more. Also, I’m very tall and for whatever reason I just fall over when it’s icy, I always have done. It’s very dangerous I think.

So Aerial is full of images of clear skies, still water, warm days and it’s full of the bustle of family life and an easy domesticity. 50 Words For Snow is a similarly beautiful album but there is a chill to it – it lacks the warmth of its predecessor. I wondered if it represented another switch from an autobiographical to a narrative song writing approach?

KB: Yeah, I think it’s much more a kind of narrative story-telling piece. I think one of the things I was playing with on the first three tracks was trying to allow the song structure to evolve the story telling process itself; so that it’s not just squashed into three or four minutes, so I could just let the story unfold.

Had you always wanted to do 50 Words For Snow or were you just on a roll after Director’s Cut?

KB: No, they were both records that I’d wanted to do for some time. But obviously I had to get Director’s Cut done before I could start this one… Well, I guess I could have waited until next year but this record had to come out at this time of year, it isn’t the sort of thing I could have put it out in the summer obviously.

Did the snow theme come from an epiphany or a particular grain or idea? Was there one particular day when you happened to be in the snow…

KB: No. I don’t think there was much snow going on through the writing of this… it was more to do with my memories of snow I suppose and the exploration of the images that come with it.

The song ‘Lake Tahoe’ has the feel of Michael Nyman about it to me, now I don’t know if that’s the fact it has the choirboys Stefan Roberts and Michael Wood, and maybe it’s reminding me of ‘Miserere’ from The Cook, The Thief, His Wife And Her Lover or not… But anyway, why Lake Tahoe?

KB: It was because a friend told me about the story that goes with Lake Tahoe so it had to be set there. Apparently people occasionally see a woman who fell into the lake in the Victorian era who rises up and then disappears again. It is an incredibly cold lake so the idea, as I understand it, is that she fell in and is still kind of preserved. Do you know what I mean?

I love the way out of the fifty words that you come up with for snow, without a bit of digging round I wouldn’t have been able to tell you which words were real, which were made up, which were partially true and which were obscure, archaic or foreign. I know that the whole idea of Eskimos having 50 words for snow is false but at the same time I do know that the Sami people of Lapland do actually have hundreds of words for snow. But from your point of view where did the idea for such a beautiful and weird song come from?

KB: Well, I’m really pleased you like it. Years ago I think I must have heard this idea that there were 50 words for snow in this, ah, Eskimo Land! And I just thought it was such a great idea to have so many words about one thing. It is a myth – although, as you say it may hold true in a different language – but it was just a play on the idea, that if they had that many words for snow, did we? If you start actually thinking about snow in all of its forms you can imagine that there are an awful lot of words about it. Just in our immediate language we have words like hail, slush, sleet, settling… So this was a way to try and take it into a more imaginative world. And I really wanted Stephen to read this because I wanted to have someone who had an incredibly beautiful voice but also someone with a real sense of authority when he said things. So the idea was that the words would get progressively more silly really but even when they were silly there was this idea that they would have been important, to still carry weight. And I really, really wanted him to do it and it was fantastic that he could do it”.

PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

A couple of reviews to cover off for 50 Words for Snow. Beats Per Minute provided plenty of depth and admiration for the wonderous 50 Words for Snow. Fifteen years after its release and I am still fascinated by it. Kate Bush released Director’s Cut in May 2011 and then this new album several months later. Director’s Cut was her re-recording songs from The Sensual World (1989) and The Red Shoes (1993). Two very different projects with different dynamics and musicians, it would have been a task balancing the two:

“Kate Bush’s greatest gift has always been her ability to balance high-concept storytelling with songwriting virtuosity deftly enough that each is compelling completely independent of the other. Her 30-plus-year career boasts a signature hit based on an Emily Bronte novel, a side-long song cycle about drowning, songs from the vantage points of a fetus and of Harry Houdini’s wife, and a disc-long meditation on sunset s —but you don’t need to know any of that for Bush’s music to be affecting. Her music augments her theatrical conceits but is utterly unencumbered by them.

If this were anyone else, the revelation that the British singer’s tenth studio album, 50 Words for Snow contains a 13-minute erotic ode to a snowman would be the indulgence to end all indulgences. But if there’s one thing Kate Bush isn’t, it’s ordinary. There isn’t another singer on the planet that could sell “Misty.” But as she’s aged, her voice has acquired a warmth and depth that makes lines like “His snowy white arms surround me, so cold next to me / I can feel him melting in my hand” not only palatable, but elegant.

As the album’s title would suggest, the rest of its songs keep with the winter theme, but not all of them are that idiosyncratic, at least content-wise. Out of Bush’s catalog, 50 Words for Snow is the album least beholden to traditional song structures. Its seven tracks are lengthy — the shortest clocks in at just under seven minutes — and she takes her time unfolding them. Many of these songs scarcely feature more than Bush and her piano. Her 12-year-old son, Bertie, the subject of a painfully mawkish tribute on her 2005 album Aerial, takes center stage on 50 Words’ opener, “Snowflake,” handling most of the vocals in a boyish soprano. The song is reflective of how most of the album is constructed. Bush’s songs here aren’t built around hooks, but around space and escalating tension. It isn’t until halfway through the eleven-minute runtime of “Lake Tahoe” that drummer Steve Gadd shows himself for the first time on the album

50 Words for Snow’s centerpiece is “Snowed in at Wheeler Street,” an unlikely duet with Elton John. It’s a story of doomed lovers spread over many decades, and it plays out seemingly in real time, losing and regaining touch from the fall of Rome to 9/11 over a creeping, glacial synth backdrop. Bush and John have a natural chemistry, like two actors in an epic romance film. Both have voices that sound both lived-in and grown-into, far removed from their younger theatrics but no less dramatically alluring.

Most of 50 Words is an evolution of the understated, graceful aesthetic Bush introduced on Aerial, her first album after a 12-year layoff. But there are moments here in which the manic art-rock siren from the 1980s bubbles to the surface. “Wild Man,” the closest thing to a pop song on the album, features some rare rock muscle and the demented, double-tracked vocals that defined albums like The Dreaming and Hounds of Love. The title track, a blizzard of percolating percussion and synth, is built around guest Stephen Fry reciting, yes, fifty words for snow (highlights: “deamondi-pavlova,” “sorbetdeluge,” “bad for trains”), with Bush counting off. But when she occasionally interrupts to egg him on (“Come on, man, just 22 to go”), her voice reaches the demonic heights she occupied in a past life.

While Bush has been more prolific lately than she’s been since the mid-‘80s (50 Words for Snow is her second album of 2011, following Director’s Cut, a set of new reworkings of tracks from The Sensual World and The Red Shoes), her work is no less painstakingly constructed. These tracks are sparse but airtight, haunting but unrelentingly gorgeous, both logical successors to the stunning second half of Aerial and completely unlike anything she’s done. In other words, business as usual for one of the most singularly captivating and influential talents in rock history”.

I wanted to get to Pitchfork and what they had to say about 50 Words for Snow. There are going to be people who are fans of Kate Bush but might not have heard about this album. Or they feel it is not for them. It is one of her most rewarding releases. Everyone needs to hear this album in full:

“50 Words for Snow is teeming with classic Bush-ian characterizations and stories-- fantasies, personifications, ghosts, mysteries, angels, immortals. As quoted in Graeme Thomson's thorough, thoughtful recent biography Under the Ivy, she explained her attraction to such songwriting: "[Songs] are just like a little story: you are in a situation, you are this character. This is what happens. End. That's what human beings want desperately. We all love being read stories, and none of us get it anymore." She's onto something; in our postmodern era, the idea of a tale can seem quaint and simple.

But Bush continues to infuse her narratives with a beguiling complexity while retaining some old-school directness. Because while most of this album's songs can be easily summarized-- "Snowflake" chronicles the journey of a piece of snow falling to the ground; "Lake Tahoe" tells of a watery spirit searching for her dog; "Misty" is the one about the woman who sleeps with a lusty snowman (!)-- they contain wondrous multitudes thanks to the singer's still-expressive voice and knack for uncanny arrangements. And mood. There's an appealing creepiness that runs through this album, one that recalls the atmospheric and conceptual back half of her 1985 masterpiece Hounds of Love. Indeed, when considering this singular artist in 2011, it's difficult to think of worthy points of reference aside from Bush herself; her onetime art-rock compatriots David Bowie and Peter Gabriel are currently MIA and in rehash mode, respectively. And while current acts including Florence and the Machine are heavily inspired by Bush's early career and spiritual preoccupations, none are quite able to match their idol's particular brand of heart-on-sleeve mysticism. In an interview earlier this year, the 53-year-old Bush told me she doesn't listen to much new music, and after listening to the stunningly subtle and understated sounds on Snow, it's easy to believe her.

The album's shortest song, the gorgeous closing piano ballad "Among Angels", clocks in at almost seven minutes. "Misty" rolls out its brilliant, funny, and bizarrely touching tale across nearly a quarter of an hour. It's not one second too long. During the 12-year gap between 1993's The Red Shoes and 2005's Aerial when she was raising her son Bertie, Bush gained a new level of compositional patience. She's now allowing her songs to breathe more than ever-- a fact reinforced by this year's Director's Cut, which found her classing-up and often stretching out songs from 1989's The Sensual World and The Red Shoes via re-recordings. So while "Misty" is an eyebrow-raiser about getting very intimate with a cold and white being with a "crooked mouth full of dead leaves," it hardly calls attention to its own eccentricities. Propelled by Bush's languid piano and the jazzy, pitter-pattering drums of veteran stick man (but relatively new Bush recruit) Steve Gadd, the song is about as appealingly grown-up as a song about having sex with a snowman can possibly be. In her early career, Bush sometimes let her zaniness get the better of her, highlighting her tales of sexual taboo and bizarre yarns with look-at-me musical accompaniment and videos. Those days are long gone. And her heightened sophistication works wonders here. So when the song's titular being is nowhere to be found the following morning-- "the sheets are soaking," she sings-- there is nothing gimmicky about her desperation: "Oh please, can you help me?/ He must be somewhere."

While much of 50 Words for Snow conjures a whited-out, dream-like state of disbelief, it's important to note that Bush does everything in her power to make all the shadowy phantoms here feel real. Her best music, this album included, has the effect of putting one in the kind of treasured, child-like space-- not so much innocent as open to imagination-- that never gets old. "I have a theory that there are parts of our mental worlds that are still based around the age between five and eight, and we just kind of pretend to be grown-up," she recently told The Independent. "Our essence is there in a much more powerful way when we're children, and if you're lucky enough to... hang onto who you are, you do have that at your core for the rest of your life." Snow isn't a blissful retreat to simpler times, though. It's fraught with endings, loss, quiet-- adult things. This is more than pure fantasy. When faced with her unlikely guest on "Misty", Bush pinches herself: "Should be a dream, but I'm not sleepy”.

On 21st November, it will be fifteen years since Kate Bush released an album. The longest gap between albums. I feel, unless she has announced once between the time I am writing this and sharing it, we will get one next year. I cannot imagine she will leave too much time after that before gracing us with new material. Until that amazing day comes, go and experience the grandeur and brilliance of 50 Words for Snow.

I am ending with a few words from people who rank her albums. Why they place 50 Words for Snow where they do. This is what Classic Rock wrote last year when reviewing of all of her albums: “This was universally hailed as another masterpiece. However, her 10th album’s long songs seem to have a lack of focus and a jazzy tendency to take forever to make their points. The atmosphere is wintry, gothic and achingly melancholy. There are few frills on the sparse, sad ballads, but the duet with an incongruous, trying-too-hard Elton John on Snowed In At Wheeler Street rewrites Top Of The City from The Red Shoes winningly. Then there’s Stephen Fry reciting the titular list of synonyms for snow on the centrepiece. Most positively, 2011 saw her back, still uncategorisable, still way out there”. Also last year, Classic Pop assessed each of her albums. This is what they wrote about 50 Words for Snow: “The unthinkable happened in November 2011 when, after waiting six years to release her previous album, Kate emerged as one of the year’s most prolific artists and unleashed a second LP, proving herself anything but predictable. Her first all-new material since 2005’s Aerial, the resulting 50 Words For Snow sees Bush adopt a similar approach to that album. While Aerial throbbed with birdsong and hazy summer vibes, its frosty counterpart’s wintry soundscapes conjure up as unorthodox a festive album as you’re likely to hear. The theme of snow is explored via narratives that draw from a wide range of subject matter – a ghostly figure that appears at night calling for her dog, Snowflake (Lake Tahoe), sex with a snowman (Misty) and time-travelling lovers ripped apart and reunited (Snowed In At Wheeler Street). The latter is a duet with Elton John, who joins Kate’s son Bertie, classical singers Stefan Roberts and Michael Wood and Stephen Fry as guest performers on the album...

Fry’s contribution, a recital of different words for snow on the title track is a pretentious misfire that is bordering on parody. The record was released to widespread acclaim and entered the UK’s album chart at No.5 in November 2011 and later saw Kate beat competition from Adele and PJ Harvey to win the Best Pop Album category at the South Bank Sky Arts Awards”. Looking to this 2013 article from Stereogum, they placed 50 Words for Snow fifth (out of ten): “Bush's 10th LP opens with "Snowflake," an evocative drift of nothingness. "The world is so loud," Bush sings — almost whispers — over a sparse, hollow bed of tom-toms and grand piano. It's the story of a snowflake's birth and descent to Earth, and the cascading arrangement brings that story to life. The rest of 50 Words for Snow follows a similar trajectory: Bush explores seven wintry themes (two eternally separated lovers in "Snowed in at Wheeler Street," the sad myth of the Yeti in "Wild Man"), as her band skitters quietly beneath — or drops out entirely, leaving only Bush's husky alto and keys in the foreground. There's no "Running Up That Hill" to reward your attentiveness — only more layers of snowy atmosphere”. Ending with MOJO and their ranking from earlier this year. They put 50 Words for Snow in ninth: “Re-energised by Director’s Cut, Bush worked furiously on her first LP of new songs since 2005’s Ariel, taking as its central motif the magic, beauty and danger of snow. But a Christmas album it was not, as lengthy, often sombre mediations spread out like black ice, with frost-bitten Elton John duet Snowed In At Wheeler Street a highlight. 15 years later, we’re still waiting for a follow-up”. A range of thoughts on Kate Bush’s most recent album. I think that it is a masterpiece, though perhaps not as esteemed as Hounds of Love, The Dreaming or Aerial. As its fifteenth anniversary is approaching, I urge everyone to…

LISTEN to this phenomenal album.

FEATURE: Let the Weirdness Out: Why That Word Does Kate Bush a Disservice

FEATURE:

 

 

Let the Weirdness Out

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in Abbey Road’s Studio 2 in 1982/PHOTO CREDIT: Steve Rapport

Why That Word Does Kate Bush a Disservice

_________

I have been thinking again…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Alamy

of Kate Bush’s The Kick Inside. I am already excited about its fiftieth anniversary. That is on 17th February, 2028. More than a year away, there is going to be a lot of new attention coming its way. However, I have been considering how the album has been getting some new focus. A few months or so back, Billie Eilish said she was appreciative of Kate Bush’s earlier albums. Like her debut, The Kick Inside. How she like the ‘weirder’ Kate Bush. Fiona Apple is a fan of the album and she would frequently sit at her piano to play and sing along to tracks such as Feel It, Moving, and Wuthering Heights. In recent months and years, there have been artists shining a light on Kate Bush’s earliest work. Bush herself said that she went a bit mad on her 1982 album, The Dreaming. On one of its tracks, Leave It Open, she sings “We let the weirdness in”. Maybe some see it is a compliment to call her earlier work weird. That word gets applied to The Kick Inside. How it is perhaps not quite as commercial or grounded as some of her other albums. They may be picking up on her vocal gymnastics and subject matter. That would continue through Lionheart (1978) and Never for Ever (1980). The Dreaming is an album where Bush produced solo. On all of these albums, she is distinctly herself and like nobody else. I have been struggling with words such as odd and weird. That would suggest her work is inaccessible or outcast. It was singular and magnificent. When her debut came out, Punk had been around for a year or two. In the Pop mainstream, there were few artists doing anything radical or too inventive. Bush did not really have any female peers writing like she did. If the likes of Carole King and Joni Mitchell, who she was often lumped in with, were writing more confessional and personal albums, Bush was going beyond that. She was not submissive or heartbroken.

The idea that her tracks were somehow impenetrable or strange. ‘Weird’ is what we would say to someone or something that we do not understand or is out of the ordinary. Kate Bush’s music was not ordinary, though I don’t think it is fitting or respectful to see it as weird. Almost fifty years since her debut album was released, it is picking up new recognition and love. Perhaps making it seem less fringe or unusual, I feel we need to reframe things. Cliches still swirl around Kate Bush. That she is this recluse or some odd figure who does not go out. When articles come out, she is often labelled as reclusive or weird. I feel this kind of sexism is applied to women in music whose music goes beyond the banal and routine. Today, there are some great Pop artists around. Though there are few who stand out in terms of their originality. Songs that do not make you think as much as listening to Kate Bush. Today, we have Pop artists who blend genres and are very much doing something exciting. COBRAH and Slayyyter are among those who are blending different genres to make something unique. You might find their music darker or heavier than most Pop. It is deep and inventive, though we would not – or should not – label them as weird. FKA twigs is a fan of Kate Bush and she goes beyond the ordinary. It would be sexist to label these women as odd or weird. Even if we apply those words to Kate Bush affectionately, I still think that it is alienating and unintentionally reductive. That she was niche and albums such as The Kick Inside are for a certain group of people. When it came out in 1978, it had layers that were not seen in Punk. More emotive and substantial, I do worry that younger listeners might be put off if they think that her music is somehow weird or outsider.

Billie Eilish is a major artist and respects her music. Though if we use words like ‘weird’ or ‘eccentric’, you paint Kate Bush as this strange myth of an artist. Or that her music is for certain people. Albums such as The Kick Inside and The Dreaming are definitely unconventional, though there is nothing in these albums that will repel or is for those who prefer experimental or freakier music. Kate Bush’s individuality should be championed and given greater weight. Rather than see her earlier work as weird, it needs to be discussed in different terms and tones. I did want to bring in this article that does address some eccentricity and strangeness in her music. Though we can only see that as a negative from the industry’s viewpoint. How women who were distinct and refused to be pigeonholed were insulted and mispresented. “Bush refused to make sense in the ways the industry wanted her to. Too strange, too theatrical, too literary, too female in the wrong ways — she became a problem that brilliance often becomes when it wears a woman’s face”. I think this is why a lot of younger artists are coming to albums like The Kick Inside, The Dreaming and the pre-Hounds of Love (1985) work:

“In the lexicon of feminist theory, Kate Bush is an aberration of the symbolic order. Her voice — that wraithlike soprano, sharp as glass, elastic as breath — does not obey grammar or gender. Julia Kristeva wrote of the semiotic chora, that primal rhythm of language before it becomes law; Bush sings from there. Each shriek, whisper, or howl is a refusal of linguistic domestication. The body leaks into the song — uncontainable, holy, strange.

To listen to her 1982 masterpiece, The Dreaming, is to watch an artist shatter every polite convention of pop. It is postmodern chaos rendered divine: voices stacked like broken mirrors, rhythms dissolving, accents mutating, machines sighing with human ache. She produced it herself — the first woman in British pop to do so — and in that act, Bush entered the masculine sanctum of authorship, claiming the studio as a body of her own. What the critics of the time heard as hysteria or excess was, in truth, a rebellion against patriarchal syntax. “Every old structure,” she seemed to say, “is a cage.”

And yet, she never needed to declare this politics outright. It was written into the architecture of her sound. Her eccentricity was her feminism — not as banner or doctrine, but as a refusal to simplify the self.

To call this concept “ambitious” is an insult; ambition is what men are praised for when they try to build worlds. What Bush built was a mythic interior — a female odyssey through fear, faith, and the thresholds of the self.

What makes Kate Bush so radical is not her eccentricity alone, but her commitment to the odd as sacred practice. Every culture has its oracles — those who speak truth through strangeness. Bush’s oddity is not a costume; it is her method. Through it, she dismantles the binaries of intellect and intuition, male and female, art and artifice.

To trace Kate Bush’s albums is to follow a spiritual cartography of womanhood — from the mythic girl to the sovereign creator, from body to cosmos. She did not rise through the male canon; she built a different one, full of wind and ghosts and the laughter of things unseen.

In her strangeness, she offered women a new way to exist: not as symbol or saint, but as process. The Dreaming, The Drowning, The Dancing, The Singing — each phase a form of becoming. The industry called her eccentric, witch, recluse — the usual names for women who do not explain themselves. But perhaps Toni Morrison said it best in another tongue: “If you surrender to the air, you can ride it.”

Kate Bush has been riding the air for forty years now. And somewhere between myth and motherhood, madness and divinity, she became what the world could not name — a woman entirely her own invention”.

Few artists in history have had the same impact as Kate Bush. Whilst some still label her as weird, we could say the same about David Bowie and his earlier incarnations. He is not so easily dismissed or marginalised. He is seen as a pioneer and visionary. This is what we need to say instead of Kate Bush. Drop tired and inaccurate labels. Although you can say Joni Mitchell is a one-off, Kate Bush’s uniqueness is nothing like that. I feel she is a much more fascinating and compelling artist. Classic Rock ran a feature earlier in the year that celebrated the fact that Bush is one of the most influential artists of the past fifty years:

“Kate Bush is now established as both a national treasure and an enduring enigma. In a career in which she has usually done the opposite of the rational thing, she has maintained stellar status as a much-loved musical pioneer, transcending her initial pigeonhole as a kooky hippie girl with a high-pitched voice. An imperishable influence on subsequent female artists, sure, and then some, yet Bush has primarily been significant beyond gender, her art and attitude a nudge to all idiosyncratic creative types who don’t follow formulae.

She remains her own entity, and we grant her the awe – and occasionally forgiveness – afforded to the truly unique. She has even survived describing then-Conservative Prime Minister Theresa May as “wonderful”. The rules, and common sense, go out of the window in Kate Bush World. How did she pull this off?

Kate Bush was always something of a prodigy. Forty years ago this January, Wuthering Heights, the first ever British No.1 self-written by a female singer, brought a fresh and candid voice to music. Her debut album The Kick Inside followed a few weeks later. She had written most of the songs on it in her mid-teens. They were rich with pretentious references (in this case a good thing), mentioning Brontë and Gurdjieff with that manner of unselfconscious earnestness exhibited by young people who haven’t read many books but have therefore reacted really intensely to the ones that they have. Which is how most of us reacted to Bush’s music.

There was, at the time, a striking novelty to her upfront expressions of lust and eroticism through the female gaze. You can sweat the details, cite Bessie Smith and Joni Mitchell, but it wasn’t yet the norm. And in an era when punk was on the rise, she was – at least technically – its very antithesis. Her moods, chords and theatricality (mentored by Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour) had more in common with prog. Her songs swooned and sighed with romance and yearning – not a current hot ticket. What she did share with punk was a free spirit, a doing-her-own-thing drive – the same young generation who queued to get gobbed on at Damned gigs embraced her.

Gilmour was thrilled by his young protégé’s success. “Kate is a complete one-off,” he said. “I can’t think of anyone like her. Joni Mitchell was also a one-off, an original, but Kate is nothing like that.”

That debut was averse to self-editing; it was both unfettered and rhapsodic. Urges, fevers, visions, unfiltered. She somehow transcended the mundane categories of the here and now. She was atypical, not topical. Pansexual. We all know what an impressive musical career she’s gone on to have, keeping that differentness, that individualism. Along the way she’s evolved from TV light-entertainment regular and accidental sex symbol to arguably the most enigmatic recluse in the business, one who marches to her own eccentric drum beat.

“Every female you see at a piano is either Lynsey de Paul or Carole King,” Bush told Melody Maker in 1977. “And most male music – not all of it, but the good stuff – really lays it on you. It really puts you against the wall. And that’s what I like to do. I’d like my music to intrude. Not many females succeed with that.”

Her ‘intrusions’ are often Trojan horses, dark themes hosted by sweet melodies, a charm of charisma. She has become one of the most invaluable figures in British music, and has done so chiefly by being herself. Or, in earlier years, by being herself while inhabiting various characters. Then hiding herself away and letting us project on to the indelible impression she had made already. Bowie, to name the most blatant example, used a similar sleight of image, but it’s a tightrope act, this blend of striking personae and blank canvas”.

As we get closer to the fiftieth anniversary of The Kick Inside, I think we need to shift and evolve the lexicon. When artists discover that album and other earlier albums, they need instead to describe it in more passionate and respectful tones. Not to say ‘weird’ is a bad thing, though it does somewhat paint Kate Bush as an oddness. Someone whose records you need to be in a certain mood for. That is unfair to a genius and groundbreaking marvel. Someone who has inspired artists who have a legion of fans. What their music does is speak to those who seek something more meaningful. The incredible Kate Bush is someone whose work is…

ANYTHING but weird.

FEATURE: The Sound of the Crowd: The Human League’s Dare at Forty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

The Sound of the Crowd

The Human League’s Dare at Forty-Five

_________

THE third studio album…

 IN THIS PHOTO: The Human League in August 1981 in Sheffield/PHOTO CREDIT: Jill Furmanovsky

from The Human League, Dare, turns forty-five on 16th October. To mark that anniversary, I am featuring some articles written about the album. One of the very best from the 1980s, Dare was a more Pop-friendly move from their previous album, 1980’s Travelogue. Not that the Sheffield band compromised anything. The album reached number one in the U.K. Dare is credited with kickstarting the Second British Invasion. This was the name given to a movement that saw the popularity of British Synth-Pop in the U.S. I did want to start out with Louder Than War and their 2012 feature about Dare. The making of this classic album. Neil Mason with the key players involved with Dare. “Studios with leaking roofs, trips to new romantic clubs in a little Hillman Imp, and a heavy metal single recorded between sessions. They’re all part of the behind-the-scenes story of the 1980s synthpop masterpiece that is THE HUMAN LEAGUE’s Dare album”:

“I’d had arguments internally, admits Draper. ‘Because of the recession in the early 80s, we knew we had to cut back and Nik Powell [co-founder of Virgin Records] wanted me to drop The Human League. Richard [Branson] backed me when I refused and fortunately I was vindicated quite quickly.

‘We couldn’t have got through all this and ended up with Dare without someone at the record company who carried a lot of weight, believes Last. ‘Simon Draper had complete faith from day one. Would I have blamed him for dropping us? It would have been a perfectly reasonable position. His faith was crucial.

Phil Oakey once claimed of The Human League Mk1 that ‘only lads in long coats liked usâ€. It was clear, to him at least, that they needed to broaden their appeal. How he did that is not only one of pop folklore’s most famous tales, it was a masterstoke of a decision. No matter how good their songs were, how great their records sounded, it wouldn’t have mattered a jot if the League had been fronted by boys.

‘When Phil called me up and said he’d got these girls, I was… less than convinced, says Bob Last of Oakey’s trip to a Sheffield nightclub, where he found teenagers Joanne Catherall and Susan Ann Sulley and asked them to join the group on the spot. ‘I don’t recall what I said. I think there was probably an interesting silence.

What The Human League were doing musically was dramatically different, radical even, but on its most basic level, Dare tapped into the cultural climate perfectly. It would be embraced by the high street, in particular by girls in slingbacks going to town on a Saturday night a factor that proved pivotal to their success.

The Oakey/Wright-penned Mk2 debut Boys And Girls failed to dent the Top 40 on its release in February 1981. In order to sustain interest, the band needed to re-establish themselves. And quick. But Virgin’s verdict on the demo of the song that the band wanted as their next single was inauspicious.

‘When Sound Of The Crowd was delivered, it just didn’t sound good enough, says Simon Draper. ‘It just seemed to me they had to make a more credible musical record and Phil suggested Martin Rushent would be the prefect producer. Based on what? I don’t know. It didn’t seem all that likely to me.

Martin Rushent had made his name as a producer working with the likes of The Stranglers, The Buzzcocks, Dr Feelgood and Generation X. He’d also produced 999’s Seperates album in 1978. More new wave than punk, 999 sounded properly tight: the drums were crisp and sharp, the bass deep and full. It turned out Oakey was a bit of fan. Asked who he’d like to work with, Rushent was top of his list.

Martin Rushent, meanwhile, had been busy setting up Genetic Studios at his newly acquired Wood Cottage home in Streatley. He loaned Midge Ure and Rusty Eagan the fledgling studio to record the first Visage album. When Virgin called up to see if he would drop in for a chat, he’d already soaked up the lessons learned from watching Visage work and arrived clutching a record he’d made with Buzzcocks frontman Pete Shelley, who was about to return to the fray as solo artist with his electronic based debut, Homosapien.

‘Martin said you must come to my studio, says Dave Allen, who engineered Dare and who first met Rushent when he produced Allen’s band, Pinpoint. ‘We arrived expecting this amazing country studio, and it was a building site. The original studio was in this ramshackle bungalow down the hill from where the main studio was being built.

Allen’s band didn’t work out but, getting along well with Rushent, he found himself hired as an extra pair of hands in the studio, taking on everything from programming to heating up meals for the bands. Yes, along with the famous imported Linn Drum, Genetic also had one of the UK’s first microwave ovens.

Work on Dare started in Sheffield, with Phil Oakey and Adrian Wright joined by Ian Burden and Jo Callis. Burden came via Graph, a Sheffield band who had appeared on a Fast Product compilation. Callis was from Edinburgh and was a former member of The Rezillos, who had been managed by Bob Last.

‘It was this derelict building that at some point had been a veterinary surgery, says Jo Callis of the League’s optimistically named Monumental Studio in Sheffield that they shared with Heaven 17.

‘It was mostly falling down and used to leak constantly, confirms Last. ‘I still have a recurring nightmare about trying to fix the roof of that studio.

Callis was hired for his songwriting expertise, but he was essentially a punk guitarist masquerading as a glam rocker, and his knowledge of keyboards was patchy at best. But when he first arrived in Sheffield, the new boy was helped out by an unlikely ally.

‘Martin Ware of Heaven 17 actually showed me round, says Jo. ‘He showed me the basics of how a synth worked, how to programme it, how to get different sounds out of it.

Once they had a few songs demo-ed, the band would decamp from Monumental to Genetic, where Martin Rushent and Dave Allen set about meticulously recreating the tracks. The first fruit of the sessions was a new version of The Sound Of The Crowd that peaked at Number 12. With Rushent and the girls on board, The Human League finally had pop potency. Rushent’s PA, Carri Mallard, remembers the band’s regular trips to Genetic.

‘I used to pick Susan and Joanne up from the train station, says Mallard. ‘They’d be sat in the back of my little red Hillman Imp, all northern accents. They were wonderfully down to earth and excited about the whole thing. We’d go off round the clubs in the area, the new romantic nights. They wouldn’t have been able to do that a few months later.

‘I still feel the girls weren’t appreciated enough for the sort of spirit and the input they provided, offers Jo Callis. ‘It was just as important as anything anyone else did.

‘The band used to stay in a pub called the Miller Of Mansfield in Goring, just across the river from Genetic, says Mallard. ‘Philip would wander round the village with his asymmetrical hairstyle, no shirt, tight black drainpipe jeans, high-heeled women’s shoes and red lipstick. You can imagine. Philip was the most charming guy, but to the little old ladies in this sleepy village it was like, ‘Who is this person?’.

The last piece in the Dare jigsaw, the very final decision, revolves around a song that, if it hadn’t been written, may have left the album flat on its face and the League’s career looking similarly deflated. As a single, it would be Number One on both sides of the Atlantic and a Top 10 hit in a dozen more countries, selling over 2.5 million copies.

‘It wasn’t like there was this big pool of material waiting to be recorded, recalls Callis. ‘We were almost recording as we went. Adrian had this little book of instructions about how to turn all the equipment on and how to work the studio. So we’d get the studio working and kind of potter about. Don’t You Want Me came from such pottering. I was thinking along the lines of Coati Mundi and Kid Creole & The Coconuts, strangely enough, and then Phil had the idea of the Pygmalion lyric and it all developed organically from there.

‘Phil was quite visionary in his own way, says Dave Allen. ‘When we were doing Don’t You Want Me, we didn’t have a chorus, so we had to wait two or three days for Phil to knock one up, which is small beer in my subsequent experience. Eventually Phil came in and said, ‘I’ve got the chorus, I’ve got the chorus ‘Don’t you want me baby, don’t you want me, oh-oh-oh/Don’t you want me baby, don’t you want me, oh-oh-oh-oh…â€.’ Me and Martin both looked round and went, ‘You’re having a fucking laugh… fuck off’. And Phil was like, ‘No, no, no, it’ll be great’”.

This article from last year took us inside Dare and its legacy. It turned The Human League into a globe-conquering Synth-Pop act. They redefined Pop music for sure. Such is the importance of this amazing record.

“You could dance to it”

The fractious splintering of the original Human League line-up into the Phil Oakey-led collective and Heaven 17 was a difficult hangover the group had yet to recover from.

The Travelogue and Reproduction albums had started to build some momentum for the band, but the subsequent messy split and Oakey’s seemingly left-field decision to recruit two inexperienced teenage girls to bolster the lineup surprised critics and threatened to derail the League’s credibility.

But new sessions with producer Martin Rushent suggested there was a method to the apparent madness. 1981’s “Boys And Girls” hinted at a sound that fused contemporary dance appeal with the fresh New Romantic movement, and this standalone single finally helped the band crack the UK Top 50. With their record label intrigued enough to allow further sessions to continue, “The Sound Of The Crowd” was the first big Human League success and set the template for Dare. “When we first heard it, it was just thump-crash-thump-crash,” said recent band recruit Suzanne Sully. “But we knew it was a definite hit. You could dance to it.”

High-street glamour and kitchen-sink creativity

Follow-up “Love Action (I Believe In Love)” intensified the dance dynamic still further and made it all the way to the UK Top 3 in the summer of 1981, with The Human League finding themselves Top Of The Pops regulars. It was perfect timing – the UK music scene was in a freshly confident mood. Magazines like Smash Hits and The Face were helping telegraph a soap-opera narrative of high-street glamour and kitchen-sink creativity, also shaped by the growing reliance on pop promos to help sell a song. The Human League had a strong look that played perfectly into that.

With “Open Your Heart,” released that October, the band perfected its sharpest image to date in a striking video, which dovetailed with the launch of Dare, on October 16. This was perhaps the first time a video had ever so explicitly launched the visual identity of an album, but the work of designer Ken Ansell also echoed some classic covers of fashion bible Vogue.

Across Dare’s ten tracks, you find those effervescent pop singles but also a starker, colder set of songs far removed from the mid-market gloss of the contemporary teen scene. “Seconds” is a brutal narrative of assassination (then largely assumed to reference the recent death of John Lennon, but actually written about John F. Kennedy’s murder in 1963), while “Darkness” offers some melodic uplifts but is a brooding epic about the terrors of the night. “I Am The Law” is a stark, synth chiller taking its inspiration from the 2000 AD comic character Judge Dredd… It’s about as far removed as you can imagine from the fluffy pop compositions being created for chart contemporaries like Shakin’ Stevens.

“Do Or Die” is a hypnotic, dance-focused cut that lifts the mood midway, but, to be clear, it would be wrong to say that Dare is a gloomy listen. The lighter touches come fast and furious, and, in essence, the album is almost a perfect exercise in how to balance a pop record.

The greatest party record of all time

But Dare is also an album forever overwhelmed by those magnificent singles, which briefly threatened to turn The Human League into the biggest band in the world. Over the festive holidays that year, “Don’t You Want Me” sat at No. 1 for five weeks (helped by the innovative Steve Barron video) and the Dare album inevitably topped the UK charts, staying on the listings for more than 70 weeks. International success soon followed, with “Don’t You Want Me” reaching the top of the US charts the following summer, and Love And Dancing – an early example of the remix album, featuring new versions of some Dare highlights – hitting the shops at the same time.

Almost four decades on, it’s a little easier to unpick the winning formula here: the sharply-crafted pop singles that built momentum; glossy, evergreen production magic from Martin Rushent (he would go on to many other great things but did he ever really surpass this?); slick visuals; a near-perfect band line-up (with ex-Rezillo Jo Callis on synths, adding so much musical ballast); and that song. A cut that will outlive an album even as classic as this, “Don’t You Want Me” arguably remains the greatest party record of all time.

Even if you don’t agree with that entirely, it will see you on the dancefloor again very soon…”.

In 2021, when Dare turned forty, Albumism provided a retrospective. In terms of its legacy, it is pretty sizeable: “Dare has appeared on several lists of the greatest albums of all time. Sounds magazine ranked it the 81st-best album of all time in 1986 and the 44th-best album of the 1980s three years later. In 1990, Dare was listed by Rolling Stone as the 78th-best album of the previous decade. Q placed the record at number 69 on its 2000 list of the "100 Greatest British Albums Ever"; the same magazine, in 2006, ranked Dare the 19th-best album of the 1980s”:

“On Dare, Oakey's gloomy baritone punches through sawing synth lines and grounds each song in real human emotion and the desire for connection. This is present on album opener "The Things That Dreams Are Made Of" and against the shunting drum pattern of "Open Your Heart," where Oakey's vocals strain with an aching for more over a melody run that rivals the catchiness of melodic maestros ABBA.

With a stalking euphoria, "The Sound of the Crowd" builds to a climax that gives birth to the sound of synthpop, and best reflects the burgeoning (albeit short-lived) New Romantic era. It's an uplifting track that, despite its sparseness, feels plush and full. Such an approach would be a mainstay of Dare—creating a sense of warmth and fullness in a bleak and sparse setting.

Dare's decidedly gloomy mid-point still offers little glints of sheen in the moody paranoia of "Darkness," the frantic rhythms of "Do or Die" and the eerie, nightmare-inducing reworking of the film score "Get Carter" twisted into an airy, high pitch call out that would feel right at home in today's Squid Game landscape.

The oppressive fog of "I Am The Law" settles around you as cascading synths trickle down and Oakey's authoritarian narrative plays out. It's a beautiful moment of dread and allows Oakey's limited vocal range to come into its own.

An unexpected highlight of the album is "Seconds," with its recounting of the Kennedy assassination with a commentary on Lee Harvey Oswald. Against a pulsing countdown beat and histrionic synths, the track is totally captivating and powerfully expressive. As a kid, I used to listen to this track over and over, drawn in by the visual picture it painted. It is Dare's crowning achievement in terms of production and its most stacked and layered. Purely magnetic.

Out of the darkness comes two of Dare's most pop-focused tracks, including the dance-inspired "Love Action (I Believe in Love)" with its fluttering main riff and shape-shifting soundscapes capped off by a rousing spoken word middle eight.

The other track is, of course, the track for which The Human League is best known for, the obsessive tail of rejection "Don't You Want Me." With its A Star Is Born narrative of a spurned Svengali, "Don't You Want Me" is instantly iconic. The ticking sequencing, the heavy bass melody, the catchy as hell singalong chorus, and the at-odds duet between Oakley and Sulley. Despite initial misgivings over its strength as a single, "Don't You Want Me" became the cornerstone for Dare's success and influence as it topped charts worldwide.

The beauty of Dare is that it sounded unlike anything else on the radio, and to this day, has its own unique sound and place in music history. It created the space through which music from that point on would filter through, with an increased incorporation of synths into pop and rock’s landscape and a shift toward more drum machine-driven grooves. The sounds created on Dare continue to reverberate through pop and hip-hop. It is detached and distinctly cool.  And despite being 40 years old, Dare still feels like a message from the future”.

The mighty Dare turns forty-five on 16th October. One of the most influential albums ever released, I am not sure if there will be new retrospectives or a new release of the album. It still sounds fresh to this day. The hypnotic and utterly wonderful Dare remains…

A timeless classic.

FEATURE: Groovelines: D’Angelo and The Vanguard - Really Love

FEATURE:

 

 

Groovelines

PHOTO CREDIT: Gregory Harris

D’Angelo and The Vanguard - Really Love

_________

ONE reason for…

focusing on this song is because D’Angelo died on 14th October last year. Marking a year since his untimely death, I did want to spend some time with one of the standout songs from his 2014 album, Black Messiah. I understand he was working on a new album when he died. Perhaps we will get a posthumous album. Really Love is one of the best songs from his catalogue. It features a truly sublime introduction. Really Love as the first single from Black Messiah. That album is credited to D’Angelo and The Vanguard. It came out on 15th December, 2014, the same day as the album. I want to start with an interview with Gina Figueroa. As Remezcla say: “She’s not only the woman behind the spoken word introduction that opens the honey-sweet ballad, she also both inspired and co-wrote the song”. This interview was published in 2016. That year, Really Love won the GRAMMY for Best R&B Song. Figueroa discussed “for the first time the explosive history of her relationship with D’Angelo, her collaboration on the song, and her attempt to be credited as an official songwriter”:

“Figueroa reveals that there’s something else to the introduction, found in an inaudible, hushed murmur between the song’s beginning syllables. “I’m telling him, ‘What are you doing with that cigarette, my love?’ Mi vida. One of my biggest battles with him was to quit smoking. It was the thorn in my side.”

Then, one midnight hour in mid-December, Black Messiah arrived at last. It was only then that Gina found out her intro was part of the finished version of “Really Love.” Upon listening to it for the first time, she remembers, “It was utterly bittersweet. It was painful as hell. Very painful. But very emotional, very beautiful, and I loved it.” Critics agreed; “Really Love” was hailed as a standout album cut, offering up the unbridled vulnerability and gut-wrenching intimacy D’Angelo embraced in his previous works, all over a lilting, virtuosic jazz-funk groove.

But what these reviews left out was any textual analysis of Gina’s spoken introduction. Enter Remezcla. In January of 2015, our Managing Editor Andrea Gompf published a piece engaging with Gina’s contribution to the song, and chronicling her attempt to track Figueroa – who is credited in the album’s liner notes simply as “Spoken Vocal: Gina” – down. “I wrote the article partly out of frustration that all the other reviews of ‘Really Love’ I’d seen completely glanced over this important introduction,” Gompf says. “I thought it was lazy journalism that no one engaged with the intro just because it was in another language – and if you take the time to listen to what [Gina] says, it gives the song a totally different reading. This is why music outlets need diverse editorial staffs – if you don’t have someone on your team who can speak Spanish in 2016, you’re losing.”

Gompf’s article eventually made its way to Gina, and helped prompt her to seek out a proper songwriting credit. As D’Angelo set out on the Second Coming Tour, the two agreed to collaborate on getting Gina credited as a co-writer, which entitles Figueroa to claim status as a nominee for Best Record of the Year and Best R&B Song at the 2016 Grammys. According to National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (NARAS) policy, in order to submit a correction and claim status as a nominee, “an executive (CEO, president, EVP, SVP A&R, or GM—only) at the nominated recording’s label [must] submit the correction, specifically detailing what was inaccurately submitted or omitted, along with an explanation as to why the error took place and what steps are being taken by the company to correct the mistake.”

The process was laborious, but in collaboration with several members of D’Angelo’s management and legal team, Figueroa and her lawyer submitted her claim. The strict deadline means that Gina’s name will not be read at the telecast tonight, and per NARAS’ restrictive policy, “all official changes to be made will be done after the awards telecast.”

“I’m very thankful to D’Angelo. He creates this incredible musical environment that was able to uplift me.”

Trade publications and official metadata files must recognize her as a co-writer after the correction is made. Though her name will not be read at the ceremony, Figueroa is grateful for the opportunity she had to make her mark on the album, and for D’Angelo’s artistry. “It’s very bizarre and surreal. Very surreal, and I’m very thankful to D’Angelo. He creates this incredible musical environment that was able to uplift me.”

Over a year after its release, and on the eve of its reckoning at the Grammys, Black Messiah remains a timeless and swirling exercise in political and romantic introspection. Perhaps “Really Love” should be read as the pièce-de-résistance of this triumphant romp in jittery folk-blues and jangly R&B. At a moment when the politics of black self-love (see: the black feminine gospel of Beyoncé’s “Formation,” or the manic cockiness of Kanye West) seem poised to muddle 2016’s pop cultural conversation with half-baked hot takes, “Really Love” rears its head again, almost begging us to remember the deceptive simplicity of love. As Gina intimates when our conversation comes to a close, the story behind “Really Love” is quite pure, despite the song’s searing intro. “There’s that thing of the heart – when hearts love each other, there’s no ocean that could separate them”.

I want to move to some reviews for Really Love. The Mix Review had their say about one of D’Angelo’s greatest tracks. If some see it as quite slight or not to his golden standard, others see it as a work of wonder. I do think that it is one of D’Angelo’s best moments:

“As a mix engineer, most of the time you’re endeavouring to deliver a product that’ll work well at a wide variety of listening levels. It’s not uncommon, however, for mainstream pop mixes in particular to be mixed specifically for lower-volume playback, pushing the lead-vocal/hook levels, mix compression, and general brightness to ensure maximum brand-recognition even for listeners hoovering an Afghan hound — the penalty being a blisteringly fatiguing listen at anything like party-grade volumes. This D’Angelo song, however, is the polar opposite, a mix that only really offers up its riches once your windows are beginning to rattle, and which’ll blow out your subwoofer long before it ever gets abrasive.

And once you do crank the dial there’s so much to enjoy — not just great basic sounds for the intimate chamber-music strings, improvisatory spanish guitar, and gossamer harp glissandi, but also tons of lovely background details which give a sense of fresh discovery with each new playback: the subliminal tremolo guitar at 1:34; the french-horn and clarinet licks at 2:22-2:38; the damped snare flam at 2:59; the electric-piano fill at 3:11; and the mad string slides at 4:01. It may demand concerted listening, but there’s no question that it rewards your efforts handsomely”.

I will come to The Delete Bin and their analysis of the stunning Really Love. It is sad that D’Angelo is not around to see the impact his song made. He would have been aware in the aftermath of the release of Black Messiah. Though I feel it has gained new light and legacy:

“This song “Really Love” is a sublime and impressionist neo-soul concoction, full of warm upright bass undercurrents, a smattering of richly arranged strings, snippets of spoken word, flamenco-style guitar, and D’Angelo’s densely (that word again) multitracked vocals that play with the threads of a melody and of words rather than outline them in sharp relief. Somehow too, despite the density that’s gone into the production, there is still a sense of airiness, of space. This song on this album provides a sense of balance, as other tracks pull the listener further in to its center where there is far less space, where those same stylistic textures represent colors, tones, and textures that makes this one of those albums that delivers rewards on repeated listens as well as initial ones. This is too big a landscape to explore all at once. No wonder it took so long to create.

For all of the meticulous attention to detail that went into the making of the record, and the personal upheavals he went through while realizing it, it was the external political climate that made D’Angelo affect a shorter timeline as far as the release. Originally, it was intended to be launched in 2015. But, it was pushed out in December of 2014 as the Ferguson riots and the murder of Eric Garner were inflaming public discourse about institutionalized racism, the worth of black lives, and the nature of black identity in a culture that doesn’t always welcome it. Several of the songs touch on political themes like this, albeit often in an impressionistic, and experimental space. But, often not as well.

Yet, even if it was current events that sparked the expedient release of this long-awaited record, the sad fact is that these issues seem to be the same as they’ve been for decades. They are at least as current as the many strains of classic American music referenced on this song, and on the rest of the album. Even if the release of this record, or any record, doesn’t solve the problems that those specific events of 2014 have made more visible for so many, what it does do is frame the artistry of those coming out of various black communities all over the United States, where lives seem so cheap and insignificant to so many who hold positions of power. In many instances, songs on the record evoke soundbites that communicate an important sense of rage around all of this, designed to help continue vital conversations happening in disenfranchised black communities all over the nation.

In addition to the social discontent reflected in the lyrics on many songs on the record, even the musical references on “Really Love”, a radio-friendly love song rooted in classic traditions, remind us that some of the greatest artists and cultural icons America has ever produced, many of whom can be thanked for a rich global cultural legacy that we all enjoy, would be subject to the same suspicion, discrimination, and violence that Michael Brown and Eric Garner were subject to, were they caught in the wrong place at the wrong time in America today”.

I will finish off with two articles. The Guardian collated D’Angelo’s best ten tracks last year following D’Angelo’s death. Really Love was in there. If you have not heard Black Messiah, then you do need to check it out, as it is one of the best albums ever:

“He’ll always be a lover and a fighter. Black Messiah’s grand romance track, Really Love, wears its cinematic ambitions on its sleeves with spoken word opening verses delivered in Spanish by Boricua artist Gina Figueroa. Cue the swirling strings and let Figueroa do her thing with a short, biting monologue (“Yeah, you love me? I love you very much … I did not want to fight you. I only wanted to love you. But you are very jealous”). The greatest falsetto singer of his generation is all about the determined serenade here, taking the playful sensual route to win this woman back into his arms with Latin guitar licks creating a delicate tapestry for our suitor. With dashes of melodrama and romcom energy, Really Love conjures the spirit of Prince on any one of his please baby, baby, please, you’re-so-hard-to-get anthems, delighting in the act of supplication; D’Angelo, like his idol, knows how to turn tender passivity into blue flirtation”.

In another feature, Rolling Stone Australia - https://au.rollingstone.com/music/music-lists/dangelo-12-essential-songs-list-85710/really-love-85722/ - put together their thoughts on the twelve essential D’Angelo songs. I do hope that there are other reviews and takes on Really Love soon. As we mark a year since the passing of D’Angelo:

“The sweet and gentle “Really Love” was one of the first songs D’Angelo wrote for Black Messiah, and eventually it became its first single. Above a lush string arrangement, guest Gina Figueroa speaks in Spanish, chastising a possessive lover. But as the slow-burner opens up, D’Angelo tells a different tale: He’s mesmerized by how deep his love is for his partner, intoxicated by their connection on every level. His soft falsetto declares “I’m in really love with you” on the chorus. D’Angelo wrote the song as early as 2007, when Questlove leaked some demo snippets to Australian radio. The single would go on to be nominated for Record of the Year at the 2016 Grammy Awards, and it took home Best R&B Song. – Brittany Spanos”.

A romantic, towering and incredible song from Black Messiah, I feel Really Love is a track that showcases D’Angelo’s gifts as a singer and writer. I feel it is up there with his very best songs. You listen to Really Love and are transported. It is a wonderful work of brilliance that will…

STAY in the heart.

FEATURE: The Beatles’ Abbey Road at Fifty-Seven: Inside the Greatest Album Cover Ever

FEATURE:

 

 

The Beatles’ Abbey Road at Fifty-Seven

ALL PHOTOS: Iain Macmillan 

Inside the Greatest Album Cover Ever

_________

I will come to a feature…

that explores the iconic album cover of The Beatles’ final album, Abbey Road. It was released on 26th September, 1969. As it turns fifty-seven soon, rather than explore the songs, I did want to look at its cover. I feel it is the best album cover ever. Although Let It Be was released after Abbey Road, the latter was recorded last. Its cover has not been equalled in terms of how striking it is. So many people trying to replicate it. Before getting to that feature, below is a fascinating article published last year that underlines why Abbey Road was streets ahead of its time:

“Prior to September 26, 1969, most people in the world were blissfully unaware that Abbey Road was the location of EMI’s London recording studios. Some keen fans may have spotted the name in news reports of The Beatles’ activities, but this was a time when it was of little importance to most fans where something was recorded. Ironically, given the album’s title, not all of Abbey Road was recorded at Abbey Road, and, in truth, the title is as much about the street and the zebra crossing outside as it is about the studio itself.

But when all is said and done, the album is for many, including this writer, the absolute pinnacle of the band’s achievements. All this, despite having been recorded as the band was breaking up amid internal strife and bitterness.

Short-sighted reception

Abbey Road was The Beatles’ 11th studio album and the very last to be recorded (their 12th – and last-released – studio album, Let It Be, was mostly recorded prior to this record). Rolling Stone magazine called it “complicated instead of complex”, while Nik Cohn, writing in The New York Times, suggested that “individually” the songs are “nothing special”, The Guardian called the album “a slight matter”, and the Detroit Free Press suggested, “We expected inventiveness. We got a good LP.”

However, Chris Welch, writing in Melody Maker, felt just the opposite: “The truth is, their latest LP is just a natural born gas, entirely free of pretension, deep meanings or symbolism.” Similarly enthusiastic, The Record Mirror said that Abbey Road was “every bit as good as the last three” albums by the group. History, too, has been much kinder, with many now citing this as their favorite Beatles album.

What makes Abbey Road a masterpiece?

What is it that makes Abbey Road a masterpiece? Well, the breadth of the musical vision, the sheer scale of the band’s collective musical imagination, and the audacity of it all, at a time when The Beatles were coming to the end of their time together.

And then there are the two George Harrison masterpieces, “Here Comes the Sun” and “Something”; both rank alongside the best songs the band ever recorded. Of the former, uDiscover’s Martin Chilton, writing in the Daily Telegraph, says “it’s almost impossible not to sing along to” – and he’s right.

“Something” is sublime, the perfect love song, and John Lennon’s favorite track on the album. Often prior to performing it in concert, Frank Sinatra would describe it as “the greatest love song ever written” (while also erroneously saying it was his favorite “Lennon and McCartney composition”)

Side Two’s 15-minute “medley” begins with “You Never Give Me Your Money,” a Paul McCartney song. It transitions beautifully into “Sun King,” which was written by John and features John, Paul, and George’s impeccable harmonies. From there the medley runs into two more Lennon songs, “Mean Mr Mustard” and “Polythene Pam” (both written in India). Then it’s a quadruple shot from McCartney: “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window,” the beautiful “Golden Slumbers” and “Carry That Weight” (which includes elements from “You Never Give Me Your Money”), before the medley closes with “The End.”

Opinion is divided among some fans and critics about some of the remaining tracks. However, there is no disputing the power, no denying the magnificence, of two of John Lennon’s compositions. “Come Together” is one of the great opening tracks on any album. Likewise, “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” just takes the band to a place they had never been before… towering.

The songs not entirely recorded at Abbey Road were “Something,” which features some overdubs recorded at Olympic Studios in Barnes, West London. For “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” the band recorded the rhythm track in February 1969, at Trident Studios in Soho’s Wardour Street, where a composite of the song was then assembled. Work continued on the song until August (including a session on August 8, when the album’s cover shoot also took place), as recordings were added to the original Trident tape; the finished song, completed at Abbey Road, was another composite made from two versions of the song. Meanwhile, “You Never Give Me Your Money” was started at Olympic in May 1969, and then finished at Abbey Road over a number of sessions in July and August.

Abbey Road is far greater than the sum of its parts, a record that, more than any other Beatles album, stands the test of time when played as a whole. It is not an album to cherry-pick tracks on random play – this is one to put on, to luxuriate in “Come Together,” and to finish with a smile on your face as Paul sings about Her Majesty being “a pretty nice girl” on the closing, “hidden” track.

10 Things You Didn’t Know About Abbey Road

1

George Harrison was sitting in the garden of Eric Clapton’s country house when he began writing “Here Comes The Sun.”

2

All four Beatles were together in the recording studio for the last time on August 20, 1969, when they finalized a mix of Abbey Road.

3

According to George Harrison, the guitar parts on “Sun King” were inspired by the sound of Fleetwood Mac’s big hit single, “Albatross.”

4

The word “pataphysical,” as heard in “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” came from the French avant-garde writer Alfred Jarry, who died in 1907. Paul became interested in his writing and discovered “pataphysics” (defined by Jarry as the “science of imaginary solutions”) in one of the writer’s later works.

5

“Come Together” was banned by the BBC in 1969 because it mentions Coca-Cola and the company had a policy against product placement in songs broadcast on the radio.

6

“Octopus’s Garden,” written by Ringo Starr, was inspired while he was on board Peter Sellers’ yacht in the Mediterranean. The boat’s captain told Ringo how octopuses gather stones and shiny objects from the sea bed to build gardens.

7

According to John Lennon, he asked Yoko Ono to play the chords to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” backward to create “Because.” This is not entirely accurate, but it is very close to the overall sound of The Beatles’ song.

8

As Ringo explained, the idea of the Side Two medley was born out of necessity: “John and Paul had various bits, and so we recorded them and put them together. A lot of work went into it. That last section is, for me, one of the finest pieces we put together.” Paul embraced the idea enthusiastically. “It gave the second side a sort of operatic structure, which was quite nice because it got rid of all these songs in a good way.”

9

“She Came In Through the Bathroom Window” was inspired by an incident when one of the Apple Scruffs (the girls who hung about outside The Beatles’ office) climbed in to McCartney’s house via the bathroom window. She then let in some of the other girls, who stole photos and clothes.

10

Some of the lyrics for “Golden Slumbers” are based on “Cradle Song,” a poem and lullaby from Thomas Dekker’s 1603 comedy, Patient Grissel. McCartney saw the sheet music, left by his stepsister Ruth, on the piano at his father’s home in Liverpool”.

The cover of Abbey Road was shot by the late Iain Macmillan. Let’s get a little background of the Abbey Road shoot. In 2019, marking fifty years since that unforgettable image was taken, Abbey Road provided some history. If I could travel back in time and space, I think the place I would be is outside the studios when The Beatles were preparing to go over the zebra crossing. In the process, creating a slice of music history:

“A brief history:

All four Beatles gathered at EMI Studios on the morning of Friday 8 August 1969 for one of the most famous photo shoots of their career. Photographer Iain Macmillan took the iconic image that adorned their last-recorded album, Abbey Road. Iain Macmillan was a freelance photographer and a friend to John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

A policeman held up the traffic as Macmillan, from a stepladder positioned in the middle of the road, took six shots as the group walked across the zebra crossing just outside the studio.

The original idea:

The original working title for Abbey Road was Everest, and the legendary cover was never in the plan at all. Engineer Geoff Emerick was smoking Everest cigarettes in the studio, and the band eventually took a liking to the stark image of their silhouettes against a white mountain. Everest became the working title of their then-unnamed eleventh album.

However, the Everest plan didn't last. Once the group decided that Nepal was out of the question, Paul McCartney then came up with the idea to take a photograph outside of EMI Studios on a break from recording. Pictured below is an original sketch from Paul depicting his ideas for what he wanted the album cover to resemble, to which Iain Macmillan added a more detailed illustration in the top right.

Shortly after the shoot, McCartney studied the transparencies and chose the only one where all four Beatles were walking in time. It also satisfied The Beatles' desire for the world to see them walking away from the studios they had spent so much of the last seven years inside.

I am going to end with The Guardian and their 1989 interview with the man who took the Abbey Road cover. He died in 2006 at the age of sixty-seven. Though he has a broad and wide portfolio, he must surely have placed his work with The Beatles in 1969 at the top. When I think of what the perfect album cover is, Abbey Road leaps to mind:

“It was 20 years ago yesterday that photographer Iain Macmillan climbed up a ladder set in the middle of Abbey Road and changed the face of a north-west London street for decades to come. On August 8, 1969, from a perch about 10 feet above the road, Macmillan snapped six shots of the Beatles as they traversed the zebra crossing near the EMI Studios where the group did their recordings. One of the six shots became famous as the cover of the Beatles ' Abbey Road LP.

There were certainly more momentous events that summer - the moon walk, the Manson murders, the entry of British troops into Northern Ireland. But somehow, the image Macmillan captured that sunny August morning has survived. To this day, the image of the Beatles walking in step across Abbey Road remains one of popular music's best known and most widely imitated photographs.

Perhaps a bit too widely imitated. Arne, a Swedish newspaperman on holiday in London, is gesturing his four companions into position, squinting into his camera as he back-pedals into the busy intersection of Abbey Road and Grove End Road. Arne is so intent on getting his four friends into proper Beatle formation that he fails to notice more important things, such as the motorcycle coming up fast behind him. A squeal of rubber, a bleat of the horn, and Arne narrowly avoids giving his life for his favourite group.

The scene has been repeated nearly every day for the past 20 years: a Beatle fan makes the pilgrimage to the zebra crossing and nearly gets snuffed trying to re-enact the Abbey Road album cover. It could be worse, of course. Think of the carnage if they had named their album Oxford Street or M4. But what most Abbey Road pilgrims don't realise is that the Beatles had the traffic problem all figured out when they did their photo session.

'I remember we hired a policeman to hold up traffic while I was up on the ladder taking the pictures,' recalls Macmillan, who is still a photographer, currently working on a project in Scotland. 'The whole idea, I must say, was Paul McCartney's. A few days before the shoot, he drew a sketch of how he imagined the cover, which we executed almost exactly that day.

'I took a couple of shots of the Beatles crossing Abbey Road one way. We let some of the traffic go by and then they walked across the road the other way, and I took a few more shots. The one eventually chosen for the cover was number five of six. It was the only one that had their legs in a perfect 'V' formation, which is what I wanted stylistically.'

Almost everything captured in Macmillan's shutter that day was transformed into an icon, something larger than life. The Volkswagen in the background of the photo, for instance, became famous largely because its number plate, LMW 281F, was widely regarded as a 'clue' in the strange 'Paul is dead' rumour making the rounds at the time. (The plate was taken to read as '28 IF,' a clue that McCartney would have been 28 IF he had lived. The fact that McCartney was 27 when Abbey Road was released barely dented the rumour.)

Years later, Paul isn't dead and John is, but the Beatle Beetle in the Abbey Road photograph still holds a place in some fans' hearts. The 1968 Volkswagen was sold at a Sotheby's auction three years ago to an American collector for £2,530. They say it even runs.

Similarly, the street signs on Abbey Road have long been a target for relic hunters. Dozens of signs have been nicked over the years, to the point where the signs are only sporadically replaced. The street sign closest to the famous zebra crossing has been missing for some time now, the empty iron frame standing as a mute testament to Fab Four fanaticism.

Across the road, a squat, securely bolted 'Abbey Road NW8' street sign sports graffiti from dozens of Beatle pilgrims: Long live the Beatles. John, Paul, George and Ringo will never be forgotten. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Luis et Nathan, Paris, Janvier '89. They came, they saw, they walked across the road and had their picture taken.

'That photo's been called an icon of the 1960s,' says Macmillan. 'I suppose it is. I think the reason it became so popular is its simplicity. It's a very simple, stylised shot. Also it's a shot people can relate to. It's a place where people can still walk.' And walk they do. It was only 10 minutes out of the Beatles ' and Iain Macmillan's lives, but it's become the world's longest photo session, 20 years running, and still going strong.

Charlotte, a 15-year-old Beatle fan from Denmark, is the latest pilgrim to stand at the zebra crossing and ponder its significance. 'It's just like I imagined it,' she says, tossing her head back in delighted wonder. Then, donning her John Lennon sunglasses, she has her picture taken walking across Abbey Road, her legs, for an instant, making that perfect inverted 'V'”.

Even though the album itself turns fifty-seven on 26th September, the cover obviously has already celebrated that anniversary. Though I did want to discuss it, as I think that The Beatles went out on a high. A perfect cover and a faultless album, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and George Harrison in that hallowed studio space for the final time. I absolutely love the Abbey Road cover and think that it is the most striking and unsurpassable shot…

IN music history.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Whole Story: A Wonderful Kate Bush Club Article, Issue 17 (About Hounds of Love and Interview)

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Whole Story

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in November 1985 performing The Big Sky on the German T.V. show, Peter's Pop Show/PHOTO CREDIT: ZIK Images/United Archives via Getty Images

A Wonderful Kate Bush Club Article, Issue 17 (About Hounds of Love and Interview)

_________

I did think I was done…

with this invaluable and fascinating archive. Many fans do not know about the Kate Bush Club and how she used to contribute to it. I have highlighted perry music every issue. We have seen short stories and interviews. This one, for Issue 17, is around Hound of Love. There is a really interesting interview. Hounds of Love turned forty-one on 16th September, but I did want to pay one more visit to the album before the year is through. I am going to comment on various parts of the feature, as it does provoke some discussion:

“This album all started last summer in my music room at home, with an eight-track Soundcraft desk and tape machine, my piano and the Fairlight.

The first song I wrote started with a musical riff and Del programming a Linn pattern. From that moment, the album "process" has steadily rolled, and Del has been there from beginning to end.

The album has been treated as two halves: the "A" and "B" sides. The "A" side is five songs, the "B" side has a theme linking several. When most of the songs were in some form, we moved from the home studio to the "big" studio, and continued to demo the rest of the songs.

It reached a stage where it was ready for drums, so I rang Paul Hardiman to come and engineer, and Stuart Elliott to play on drums.

Paul is great to work with, a very good engineer: quick, and with a natural feel for sounds. Stuart's drumming is the most emotional I know. He's always interested in the songs and the lyrics, and has a way of creating the right mood for the track. The most difficult thing was working out the compromises between the Linn drum already there as the demo, and Stuart working with it, or indeed, as in some cases, taking over completely but working to the Linn”.

I did not quite know how Hounds of Love started, in terms of the recording. I do think of the album as being one where friends and family were very important. Del Palmer especially key. They were in a relationship and he played on Hounds of Love and engineered it. They were especially close and had to be, though there would have been the odd battle and disagreement, as Bush was producing and she was the boss. That idea of working on songs in the house and then bringing them to the bespoke studio that was built at East Wickham Farm. In addition to there being a lot of musicians on the album, there were quite a few engineers. Though Del Palmer, I feel, was the one Bush trusted most.

“In some cases we keyed Stuart's sound off the Linn, it was the only way to really make it sit. It some cases, we kept the Linn patterns and Stu worked in some delicate toms around them. He broke plates and saucers for one track, and became an army of military snares in another, sprinkling fairy dust hither and thither.

The next stage was recording all the pianos. The home piano on the demos was an "upright", and not good enough quality for professional recording, and so had to be replaced by a grand piano. Some of these tracks would be taken to Ireland to do some work on.

We wanted a very delicate piano sound, these tracks being very empty and sad. Paul went for a very live sound--reminiscent of Erik Satie, Chopin: the empty ballroom after the party when everyone has gone home.

The next stage was some Fairlight, and concentration on the tracks that would possibly go to Ireland within a few weeks' time. Rough B.V.s and lead vocals were put down on these tracks, and copies of the twenty-four-track masters were made by our maintenance man and cavalry in sticky situations: Jim Jones--and a very nice chappy he is, too.

During the trip to Ireland, I hoped to write the lyrics for as many of the songs as possible, a lot of it being little odds and ends, which are the hardest to get, I suppose because you're so limited fitting in a couple of lines within a context, rather than creating it from scratch”.

I don’t think people realise that so much of Hounds of Love was written in Ireland. This was the country Bush’s mother was born in. So dear and special to her, I can imagine the scenery, the warmth of the people and the fact that Ireland, as much as England, was in her blood, did meant that she was inspired. There is a feature to be written about Irish recordings and musicians in Kate Bush’s work. I have written about it before but will revisit at some point.

“However, the main reason for going was to work in Windmill Lane with Bill Whelan. We met in London, and I played Bill the demos, and he started thinking about ideas.

We agreed that we'd need a couple of weeks up front to go through all the arrangements and sort out the musicians and studio time. Not only was Bill a dream to work with, but he made us feel very at home, and we got to see Ireland in a really fun way. We worked with Liam O'Flynn, a beautiful musician and person, and Donal Lunny, whose spontaneity and ideas filled us all with awe.

Bill introduced us to John Sheahan, the fiddle player and multi-talented musician from The Dubliners, who was like Santa Claus. He played a piece that Bill had written, and it was so moving and he played so emotively that I started to cry and felt silly, but what a nice experience. I highly recommend it!

One of the tracks we worked on was inspired by a discovery that Paddy had made of a fascinating Greek ceremony that he managed to get on tape. He knew it would get in to the inspiration centre, and that's what it did. We played the tape to Bill, Liam, John and Donal; and Paddy, who was on his way to the West Coast of Ireland to visit the Lakes, stayed with us in Dublin and joined in the general fun, and as a non-stop shift of Irish musicians put the magic of their race onto the songs, we danced and whooped in the control room.

We consumed the information from Pad's tape as much as we could. I'd only finished writing the song the day before on Bill's piano while his wife brought me cups of tea and biscuits (thank you, Mrs. Whelan). We used Bill Somerville-Large as the engineer. He worked on the Irish sessions on the last album. He has a way of bringing out the natural beauty of acoustic instruments, and it's rare to find an engineer with perfect pitch! And we worked with a nice man called "Pearce" as our assistant”.

Those Irish sessions sound magnificent and such fun. I don’t think that too many people also know about Bush’s time recording there. I am trying to work out when this article was written and whether it was before Hounds of Love came out, or right at the end of 1985. Having been immersed in recording her masterpiece for quite a while, it must have been strange writing about it and her experiences. It is great insights for fans, beyond the interviews that we have from that time. Bush a bit more relaxed and free to explain and explore the recording of Hounds of Love.

“Windmill Lane is a great studio, very efficient; and they are all lovely people. We all felt relaxed and happy, which is definitely the only way to feel when recording and creating.

This track was built around John Sheahan. Bill conducted him, I played chords on the piano and Donal played bodhran (a small Irish drum). We did this in one studio, baffled off from each other. We got a good take quickly, and John overdubbed fiddle. Then Donal overdubbed more drum and bouzouki; and then, John playing whistle and Liam playing pipes, they jammed together on the jig that Bill had written for the end of the track. Bill is very talented, as they all are, and I think his arrangements and ideas are fantastic. It really is fun working over there.

On returning to England we started again with Stuart to work on the tracks from Ireland. Unfortunately we only had a limited time with Paul, as he was committed for another album, but we had four clear weeks.

We started on some B.V.s, and did bits of Fairlight, and Paul's ideas for sounds were invaluable not only then, but later on when Del came to work on my vocals.

The next stage was bass guitars. Del played beautiful bass on some of the tracks, knowing them as well as myself--I always find Del's ideas are so in tune with the songs. And I asked Danny Thompson to play on one track and Eberhard Weber to play on two of the songs. There are a few songs with no bass guitar at all.

With Danny we used a quite live sound--you can hear him plucking and pulling the strings in the ambient room, which we found attractive. Paul got a great sound and balance between the sound of the bass and the ambience of the room, and Danny got a fabulous feel for the track -- like a jungle cat, and very moody. Danny is a very sensitive player, and again, he loves to know what the track's about, and who or what he's meant to be; he has a real "feel".

I do like that nod to Del Palmer. He is sadly no longer with us, but his musicianship and talent was a big part of what makes Hounds of Love such a great work. Obviously, there were a lot of people involved, but he did provide incredible moments to the songs. It may sound a bit dry to some people, but Kate Bush discussing the recording, schedule and who she was working with gives us more insight into the album. We get a bigger and deeper picture of Hounds of Love.

“Eberhard Weber came over to England for two days. I am a big fan of Eberhard's, and it was really a pleasure to be working with him again. I'd sent him a cassette up front, with lyrics and notes on the "vibes" of the tracks, and he came prepared with manuscripts and ideas. One of the tracks was demanding, as it required so much space: he used beautiful bowed notes that sound like a plane, and in the other track he soars and dips like a stalking panther...oooh, it's lovely.

Next came Paddy's bag of delights; the dijeridu, given to Pad by Rolf, was captured, and joined the track that he'd originally sparked, so Australia joined hand in hand with Greece, Ireland and England.

Next he played shimmering mandolins that waxed and waned. He sang, he dijeridued, as ever waving the magic wand that only Pad can wave.

The next musician was John Williams. There was one track in particular which I hoped he would play on. He was lovely to work with, and full of enthusiasm and interesting stories, and it took very little time to get what he wanted. [Typo? She probably means "we".] (I've always dreamed of working with him.) John played to a rhythm machine, which is not always easy when the track is delicate and needs to sound light, but for him it proved no problem at all. Paul got a beautiful sound in quite a live room and close-miked John's guitar, using the ever favourite Neumann U87 microphone.

Unfortunately, Paul's time was running out, and his commitment with another album was due. It was an interesting situation. I had not really approached any engineers, as we'd reached a stage where I needed to work on ideas and just listen to the tracks and what we'd done up to that point.

There were still Fairlight ideas to put down, a couple of tracks”.

Aside from the unfortunate mention of Rolf Harris, it is worth saluting Paddy Bush and what Kate’s older brother brought to Hounds of Love. In terms of the breadth of musical instruments and cultures. Giving the album a richness and unique edge. Kate Bush very affectionate in her praise of Paddy. So many different musicians coming in and out of East Wickham. Those Irish sessions. It must have been dizzying for Kate Bush to keep track of it all!

“We were at a stage where I wanted to start on the vocals, to try and get as many as possible done before I'd call in another engineer. The one outstanding thing was a track that needed strings -- real strings. Admiring James Guthrie's work on The Wall, I asked him if he'd engineer the session for us.

Luckily, he had a free day during a busy schedule, and I rang Dave Lawson to confirm the date. (Dave arranged the strings on Houdini on the last album.) I had written this song with Fairlight strings, and they need transcribing and writing out for strings rather than a synthesiser. Dave suggested the "Medicci" players,* and obviously I was into that. He thought a great deal about the arrangement and "construction" of the sextet, and he decided on two violins, two violas, two 'cellos, and was also present on the day to help out with any changes in the scripts or any problems that might arise.

It was a big day for us, and it is always exciting working with strings, and especially when they are such respected musicians.

It was an extremely hot, humid day, and between takes everyone would rush outside to breath in the slightly less hot humid air before returning inside to continue the recording.

We got a very warm, close sound, which was appropriate for the weather, and James remained cool and calm, and the strings grew and grew, and everyone was smiling. And I got an autographed "Medicci" album--it was great. James is an extremely positive, talented engineer, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

[*--"Medicci" players: I have checked all the UK musicians' union records and found no listing for a "Medicci" group, but Kate's great respect for the group makes it seem likely that she's talking about the Medici String Quartet. The misspelling would not be the only one in the liner notes of Kate's albums, as many fans have discovered... Working against this theory, however, is the fact that Kate's part was arranged for sextet; but since the six-part arrangement was apparently developed by Lawson independent of the Medici players' own configuration, and since Kate describes how "the strings grew and grew", it seems pretty clear that overdubs were used. This problem can best be resolved by the players themselves, of course.]”.

I do like how she writes about working with the Medici String Quartet. The heat of the summer and how challenging it would have been. I do think that there should be a documentary about Hounds of Love. One where many of those who played on it share their memories. I don’t think there are many photos and no video. A shame we did not get too much in that respect, though Kate Bush would wanted to have kept everything private.

“The next layer was voices. Del and I had been working a lot on voices on the demo/masters (which were now really masters). Some of the voice sounds were demanding, and some of the performances (especially from an emotional aspect) were quite difficult. I really enjoy working with Del, I think especially on the voices. I always feel very relaxed and uninhibited, which gives me a head start compared to normal studio situations, where I'm fighting my nerves until I can settle down.

We really did have a lot of work to cover, and in some cases I had to put down the ideas and leave them for a few days in order to know what I really thought about them. Coming back to them, I might want to play with them a little--liking the basic idea, but needing to change it somehow.

The majority of the vocals were recorded using an 87 Neumann mike. Del has a natural feel for the sounds I like, and has really good ideas, so he would get the sound quickly, and the time would go on me getting the performances and us experimenting with ideas.

In a couple of cases the B.V.s on the demos had just the right sound and atmosphere, so we kept these and maybe added to them. Often "demos" create problems like this, and that's why we decided to make the demos the basis of the masters, keeping the feel, the speed, and keeping as many of the Linn drums, Fairlights and voices as we could.

When we had covered a fair amount of ground, I contacted Haydn Bendall (who, again, worked on the last album), and he came in to engineer. Haydn is a very gentle, lovely person and we've been friends for years. Again the atmosphere was relaxed, and Haydn set about cleaning up. We had lots of voices to bounce (which means, for instance, taking four tracks of vocals and recording all four of them onto another two tracks. Then we wipe the original four tracks, leaving us with more to record on, and making the voices easier to handle in the mix.) We also worked on some more Fairlight, keeping most of the original demo Fairlights where the quality was good enough. Haydn is very excited by the Fairlight and works with it a lot. This was nice for me, as it does take me a while to work out the Fairlight arrangements sometimes, but Haydn is very patient and enthusiastic, and it's just what I need in that situation”.

“We always have the Fairlight going through some effect or other, even if it's just a bit of equalization and a nice echo, but it seems to need it, and it always compliments the effect you want.

There were still a couple of tracks that needed drums to be sorted out, and Charlie Morgan was the man for the job. I last worked with him on the Lionheart album, and it was very exciting to work with him again. He is very open-minded and is well up to date on all the latest drum-sampling equipment, etc., and also happens to be a great drummer.

We worked with Charlie for two full days, and had him pop in for half days to do some more overdubs at a later stage.

We then got into a pattern of where I would work with just Del for two or three days a week, and Haydn would work the rest of the week compiling and bouncing the ideas we'd worked on in the earlier part of the week. This worked very well, as I was uninhibited at trying out the ideas with Del, and Haydn could come in objectively to them. Quite often I was very nicely surprised when things I felt might be a little too obvious, perhaps, were nicely disguised. It is impossible to remain totally objective, especially when the ideas need to be subtle--you mustn't make them too subtle or no one will hear them!

We continued to work this way for quite a long time, and then reached the point where Haydn was again working full weeks.

Paddy came in again and did some vocal overdubs. At the end of the tracks on the "theme" side, Paddy did some beautiful harmonic singing. This is something you have to see to believe. Just hearing it might not convince some people that it's just Pad! they'd swear that there was a synthesiser in there whizzing through the harmonics, but it really is just Paddy's voice, and it's quite celestial--I can't wait 'til you hear it, so you can hear how lovely it is.

The tracks were still growing, though retaining their "space", and two tracks cried out for guitar. Alan Murphy, as I'm sure you all know, has played some wonderful guitar on the albums, and this was no exception. We worked one long day, and it was very exciting to hear how the tracks blossomed with every overdub. There is a good musical communication between the two of us, and I find that inspiring.

We wanted a very "heavey"- sounding guitar, so we used Al's amp in a very live room and miked up the amp. Haydn got a frighteningly raunchy guitar sound, and Al did the rest.

Sound effects, little pieces here and there. Lose this, lose that, create a little space here, a little something there to help the crescendo and all the recording is at last finished. I thoroughly enjoy working with people, especially when they are musicians, engineers and friends of a calibre that I am honoured to be with.

A big thank you to all of them, a special thanks to Haydn for all his work and feedback, and a Happy Christmas to all of you. And a big thanks to you for your communication and support--I'd be lost without it.

Lots of Love

Kate xxx”.

It seems like this was a winter edition of the Kate Bush Club. Bush looking back at finishing Hounds of Love. We get a wonderful window into what it was like assembling Hounds of Love. All the layers and players who were responsible! What resulted remains of the greatest albums ever released. I am going to drop in the accompanying interview without comment.

“Interview

Do you compose your music with traditional written notation, or do you rely entirely on demo tapes? And has your process of composing melodies and harmonies, etc., changed since The Kick Inside and Lionheart? Are you, for example, more specific in writing out a bass line now than in 1978, or do you give more leeway to the other musicians during rehearsals than you used to? [I wrote this question.]

"My notation is very basic. I just write out the chords and lyrics, and I rely mainly on my memory. This does make it a bit difficult when I try to come back to a song after a few years, but I can listen to tapes and bash around on the piano, rediscovering the past. Before the first album it was easy: I used to practice all my songs every day in rotation, and kept them totally in my head. But I just don't have the time any more, so I do rely on the records and tapes to refer to chords--for live performances, for instance.

I think the process of recording has changed very much since the first album, perhaps the biggest change being my involvement with the production. The demos on the first album were just piano and vocal; the demos for the second and third albums were a very big influence on the master recordings; the fourth album was completely influenced by the demos; and the current album is the demos. When working with musicians, I find that it depends totally on the individual, and the communication between the two of us. I will normally guide the direction to start with, but it's up to the musicians to make it really happen."

Have you ever thought of releasing a live L.P.?

"Yes."

How did the session for the film The Magician of Lublin come about? Did you help Maurice Jarre write the song or its lyrics?

"Maurice Jarre asked me to sing the song, which he had already written. The whole thing was a most enjoyable experience."

What is sung at the end of Symphony in Blue? Is it: "No wonder that I blew it"?

"Yes, but you've spelt it wrong: it's 'blue it.'"

I am fascinated by Symphony in Blue, and wonder if I am right in thinking that the musical inspiration was supplied not by Gershwin, as the title implies, but rather by Erik Satie, and in particular the beautiful Gymnopedies.

"Yes, it was inspired by Erik Satie's Gymnopedies (II). [Sic-- number two (of the three) is not the one that the KT Band played in concert and on the Kate special, but all three are very similar.]

Why didn't the single December Will Be Magic Again appear on the Single File video? Did you make a jingle for radio stations the Christmas before last?

"There was no video made for December Will Be Magic Again. Yes, I did make a Christmas jingle for Capital Radio and Radio 1, but I never heard it played and would love to know if any of you did."

Do you enjoy modern art? And if so, who is your favourite artist?

"Salvador Dali."

Do you drive?

"Yes."

How often do you get your hair cut, and do you go to a special hairdresser for famous people? I think your hair always looks fantastic, and often wonder whether you suffer from split ends, etc., like the rest of us.

"I get my hair cut about every six weeks by Anthony Jacomine. I am really pleased that you think my hair looks good, as it's still recovering from all the heated curlers and tongs it was blasted with on various photo sessions."

Is it true that some of the singles in the Single File boxed set have been re-mixed? And if so, which ones?

"None of the singles have been re-mixed, but Sat In Your Lap and The Breathing are the album mixes, and not as on the original singles."

What is sung during Delius, after the bit where Delius is dictating to Fenby?

"Can't you tell?"

Your lyrics have always fascinated me, but none more so than those of The Man With the Child in His Eyes. I have often wondered whether you found inspiration for this from Emily Bronte's poetry. It is her constant references to eternity which make me wonder: for example, "The Sea of Death's Eternity" parallelled with your "Telling me about the sea/All his love, till eternity."

"I find your parallel interesting, but unfortunately the only Bronte work I have ever read is Wuthering Heights."

What is your feeling about the Church and religion?

"It is a very powerful, widely influential force that has extreme good and bad effects on people."

What kind of make-up do you use? [Well, you can't fault these questions for lack of variety!]

"I don't bother any more, I use Latex!"

The song style on The Dreaming appears to be more rhythmic in nature than your earlier, more melodic material. Is this a deliberate change in musical direction?

"Since drum machines entered my life on the third album, it's never been the same."

Why is The Kick Inside the only available L.P. on compact disk? What do you think of the quality of CDs, and would you like to see KBV released on this system?

"Maybe you should ask EMI why only The Kick Inside is available on CD. I would like KBV to be out on this system so that I can tell you what the quality is like, 'cause I haven't heard. yet!" [This interview dates from December 1984 or earlier.]

Is the Hammersmith-Odeon video any different from the version shown on TV? How much other footage is not on these versions, and why were the other bits excluded?

"The version shown on TV is the Hammersmith-Odeon video, unless it's been edited to fit time slots. There are about another one-and- a-half hours that were shot that night. The video version was edited from the complete show, which ran for about two-and-a-half hours, and we had to make it a standard length to fit TV slots."

When you decide to tour again, will it be video-ed? Do you think the Hammersmith-Odeon video gives a true vision of the stage show for those who weren't there?

"I dare say it would be video-ed if we did tour. I don't think the video was a true vision at all. You had to be there to see it all. In fact, most of it was missing. You couldn't even smell the heather in Wuthering Heights! But for a video to do that, smellivision is yet to be invented."

Who entertained the audience while you changed costumes on your 1979 Tour? I heard that it was a magician. Is this true? It is impossible to tell from the video.

"There was a fantastic magician in show--Simon Drake. He made things float, glide and fly, not to mention disappear. However, most costume changes were done very quickly over extended fade-outs and extended intros. into the songs."

As many of the press and album reviewers considered The Dreaming to be "weird" and "over-produced", etc., do you mind if the press label the new album "even weirder"?

"I don't mind 'even weirder', but I don't like 'over-produced'.

Who are your favourite band at the moment, and what has been your favourite album and single of 1984?

"Favourite band: Killing Joke. Favourite single: 80s by Killing Joke. I can't give you my favourite album, as I haven't really had time to listen to any this year."

Do the birthday and Christmas cards and presents you are sent actually reach you?

"All the ones I've received have reached me."

If you had to live in another country, where would you choose?

"If I had to, I think it would be Ireland."

Which is your favourite cover version of one of your songs?

"Poor Old Flea by Madame Maria Nanky."

Any New Year's resolutions?

"To try and go on holiday”.

This is my final visit (for real this time!) to the Kate Bush Club and her amazing writing for them. From the short stories, interviews, article and everything else, it would have been a huge treat for fans to read Bush’s words. Many especially excited for Hounds of Love. Having bought Bush’s fifth studio album and adored it, there was curiosity about how it was made. Behind the scenes. And we get that here. Such great and image-painting words from…

A living legend.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Revisited: Die Spitz

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight: Revisited

PHOTO CREDIT: Emilio Herce

Die Spitz

__________

HERE is a wonderful American group…

who I spotlighted last year. I wanted to revisit them, as quite a bit has happened since then. They have a string of tour dates taking them into next year. In April, they will be heading to London to play the O2. There are some interviews from this year I want to bring in, as Die Spitz - Ava Schrobilgen, Chloe De St. Aubin, Eleanor Livingston, and Kate Halter – have been really busy. I will get to them soon, but first want to bring in biography from their official website:

“When the Venn diagram of passion, friendship, identity, and artistry collide, it can feel as if fighting words are spitting from your veins. And as postmodern society crumbles, Die Spitz giddily bounce between a dozen different ways to push back. If the world of rock music were an ice cream shop, the Austin quartet have sampled each flavor, flipped the freezer over, and started dancing with the employees they helped unionize. On their debut album, Something to Consume (Released Sept 12 via Third Man Records), Ava Schrobilgen, Chloe De St. Aubin, Eleanor Livingston, and Kate Halter fight against the inescapable consumption that surrounds life. “There’s a political side to it, but addiction and love can also be all-consuming,” Livingston says. And as the foursome trade off instruments, swapping songwriting and vocal duties, and generating powerful songwriting in concussive bursts, Die Spitz have created their own little pocket of the world where we can all stand on the edge together.

That unity comes in part from the deep bonds between the 22-year-olds. All four are Austin natives, with Schrobilgen and Livingston having met in preschool, befriending Halter in middle school, and immediately bringing De St. Aubin into their inner circle when they formed the band in 2022. Though they’ve only been playing together a few years (not to mention Halter only learning to play bass to start the band), Something to Consume shows a maturity and technical prowess always wielded in service of their profound friendship.

The group settled on the name Die Spitz over a “brown bag of Fireball”, opting for the feminine German definite article in place of the English. “It reminds me of the Grim Reaper spitting,” Livingston jokes. At their first live shows, they paired originals with covers from some of their inspirations: Black Sabbath, Pixies, Mudhoney, PJ Harvey, and Nirvana. The beguiling "Pop Punk Anthem" somehow encapsulates elements throughout that large musical swath, building from roiling verses to a growled chorus. “It may sound like a love song at first, but when the beat kicks in it’s the obsession that takes over,” Schrobilgen says. “The words ‘you’re a part of me’ sound loving but it can be an insane emotion and privilege over someone else’s life.”

As if their closeness as a band weren’t enough, the members of Die Spitz have also intermittently been roommates and still live near each other. “We call it sitcom life,” Livingston laughs. That said, the Die Spitz TV show would have a significantly different soundtrack to your usual sitcom fare. The Austinites express their ideas through a blend of classic punk, hardcore, metal, alt rock and more. The group have become known for their riotous live shows, where dueling cartwheels, Halter playing bass mid-crowdsurf, Schrobilgen unleashing a growling bark, and Livingston posing with the microphone on top of the venue’s bar or climbing into the rafters could happen at any moment. Pairing their mind-melting gigs with even more impressive songs has led to stints opening for (and rivaling the energy of) bands like OFF!, Amyl and the Sniffers, Viagra Boys, and Sleater-Kinney.

That shapeshifting strength comes into full view on the explosive “Throw Yourself to the Sword”, a song that raises a righteous fist of empowerment over thrash guitar. “Throw yourself/ To the sword,” the start-stop chorus begins, before taking a more modern turn. “What’s it like knowing/ None of you bitches can compete?” Livingston sees the song as an important reminder to let go of insecurities and embrace the power you have over yourself—something that unifies the Die Spitz catalog. “Be the bad bitch you are amongst the mundane and use your voice as a young person,” she says. “Don’t let these old fools tell you you can’t do anything”.

Whether on the punk chug of "RIDING WITH MY GIRLS" or the syrupy grunge of "Go Get Dressed", Something to Consume moves with rapturous conviction thanks in part to the deft production hand of Studio 4’s Will Yip. Though only recently in their 20s, Die Spitz’s impressive musicianship ties them clearly to a long lineage of frustrated people hoping to inspire change. Some people aren’t interested in being political activists via music, but it weighs on me heavily and I feel misaligned with my calling if I don’t,” De St. Aubin says. “The four of us are free spirits with multiple interests, and there’s no limit or power dynamic that can derail us.”

The thrumming “Voir Dire” embodies that expressive strength, an acoustic-driven jam that airs frustrations with American globalism. “Unless we’re part of the few in power, we’ll someday be victimized and regret that we didn’t act now,” De St. Aubin adds. “America brings war on marginalized people in our own country and other lands, and being complacent will not be comfortable forever.” Elsewhere, the grimy and pained “Punishers” explores the frustration and ache of a relationship that just won’t work despite best intentions—two people punishing each other instead of just letting go. But even when they’re tackling these sort of impactful themes, Die Spitz infuse the proceedings with a golden warmth. These aren’t songs of vicious mockery, but charged rallying calls—which in turn ties back to the band’s origin story. “It was a joke that went too far,” Halter smirks. “We never thought it was going to be a real thing.”

Across 11 tracks, Something to Consume contains multitudes and yet feels of a singular piece, an expansive and expressive set unified in its camaraderie and freedom. “We depend on our freedom—freedom to do what we want, present the ideas we want, make the music we want,” Livingston says. “Whether it’s based in metal or something soft, no matter which of us wrote the song, we all contribute and work together. As a person, I don’t have a strong ego or voice, but within this band each one of us is capable of so much more”.

As it is paywalled, people might not be able to read this interview from Rolling Stone. They interviewed Die Spitz. In their sub-header, they note how “Straight out of Austin, Texas, this punk band is playing loud, winning fans, and opening for Foo Fighters this summer”. If you have not listened to Die Spitz yet, then do make sure that you connect with them:

“When the e-mail came in from their management last year telling them they were opening for the Foo Fighters, Die Spitz drummer Chloe de St. Aubin started screaming. She was seated next to her bandmate,  guitarist Eleanor Livingston, trying to focus on homework for their online college courses, but the punk quartet they’d formed in high school just a few years earlier was occupying both their minds. Their absurdly high-energy live show and debut LP, Something To Consume, had won them a cult following, and they were both quite ready to take the next step.

“We were spiraling,” says de St. Aubin. “I was like, ‘We’re not doing anything. What are we going to do?’ And then I checked my phone.” They had secured that gig opening for the Foos at the 61,000-seat Anfield Stadium in Liverpool on June 27, 2026. It will be their biggest show ever, by quite an order of magnitude. “We eventually just started laughing,” says de St. Aubin. “And then we both forgot about what we were studying.”

The road to this moment of triumph — one of many they’ll have this year, since they’re also playing Coachella, Outside Lands, and Lollapalooza — began back in 2022, when Livingston, bassist Kate Halter, and guitarist Ava Schrobilgen were all attending the same high school in Austin, Texas. “We were super into rock bands, we smoked a bunch of weed, and liked to party,” says Livingston. “So we were like, ‘We should start a band.'”

In the original telling of this story, the epiphany came after watching the Mötley Crüe biopic The Dirt on Netflix. But they’ve erased this from their official bio. “Redacted,” says Livingston, shuddering at the thought of being associated with a group she now sees as hopelessly sleazy and misogynistic. “We were 18 and, not gonna lie, on that wavelength of, ‘We’ll get a bunch of girls and drink a bunch of beer!'”

They rounded out their lineup by recruiting St. Aubin from a nearby high school and writing songs that were the antihesis of “Girls, Girls, Girls,” even if they took a lot of woodshedding to get right. “We would practice in my parents’ garage,” says Livingston. “And we were so bad. Oh my God, we were so bad. And it was awesome. We just kept playing because it was super fun.”

They started booking gigs around Austin and developed a ritual where they’d swap instruments every few songs and take Iggy Pop-like stage dives into the audience. They recorded their debut EP, Revenge of Evangeline, in a single day in 2022, and the next year they found themselves opening for the Aussie punk crew Amyl and the Sniffers on a nationwide tour. “I think we aged ourselves seven years on that tour,” says Livingston. “I don’t know how we survived. We were doing 17-hour drives, unloading everything, selling our merch, playing the show, and still getting drunk all throughout that.”

Some nights all four of them crammed into one hotel room, and other nights they’d simply drive until they couldn’t make it any further, and then pull off into a rest stop. “We’d feel like we were going to die, because that’s where a lot of murders happen,” says Livingston. “But it was also the best time of my life.”

A big advantage of living in Austin was its easy access to South by Southwest. They got signed to Jack White’s Third Man Records in 2025 after playing a showcase gig at the yearly festival. “I had the flu and was so ill,” Livingston recalls. I wasn’t even singing for half the set. I was like, ‘Did I just die?’ And they were like, ‘Y’all were awesome!'”

Third Man teamed them with producer Will Yip, who helped them “trim the fat” off songs like “Pop Punk Anthem (Sorry for the Delay),” “Go Get Dressed,” and “American Porn.” The latter is a direct shot at sexist record industry insiders, and some older dudes who come to their shows just to leer at them. Some, they say, have even taken photos of their feet and posted them online. “It’s a very angry song,” says Livingston. “And I want the people that come to our shows just because we’re pretty women or they want to sexualize or objectify us to listen to that song and tell us if they’re still a fan.”

Thankfully, the creepy foot-fetish guys are fewer in numbers these days. “It’s now a bunch of girls and gays and people that we want to appeal to,” says Livingston. “They’re saying, ‘I like hard music, but there’s not a lot of it made by women or people who are queer.’ I want to continue making our shows a safe space for them.”

The four members of the band now tour with a road manager and a technician, and a merch manager is about to join the troupe as well. Better bookings means they can often afford two hotel rooms. “We’re moving up,” says de St. Aubin. “We might even get our own beds.”

Until recently, many of them made ends meet with retail or service industry jobs between tours, and they took online courses while barreling down the highway in the van. De St. Aubin is continuing to study psychology and business, and Livingston is majoring in business and minoring in biology, but they left their day jobs to focus as much energy as possible on Die Spitz.

“I think I got fired,” says de St. Aubin. “They were like, ‘You’re never here. We can’t keep putting you on a schedule.’ I was like, ‘That’s fair.'”

The Foo Fighters gig weighs on their minds (“I don’t know if people will show up early enough for us. I’m a little worried it might be scattered,” de St. Aubin says), but they don’t even care they’re listed on the very last line of the Coachella poster in tiny font. They’re still going to be there, playing the same day as Justin Bieber, facing an audience of thousands.

“The beauty of playing for so many people is an energy that not many people experience,” says Livingston, “especially when they know your lyrics and whatnot. It’s like you climbed to the top of a mountain. It’s freakin’ better than sex. It’s a crazy feeling”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Emilio Herce

One thing that is clear when it comes to Die Spitz is that their friendship is at the heart of everything they do. It is what makes their music and live performances so memorable and electric. There is so much love between them, you know they will be playing for decades to come. In June, Stereogum spent time with Die Spitz. We get an insight into their close-knit bond:

“The legends are true. Die Spitz became a band just so that they'd have an excuse to hang out with each other more often. Three of the four members had never even been in a band before forming Die Spitz. They were just buddies in Austin. Schrobilgen and singer/guitarist Eleanor Livingston have been friends since preschool, and they met Halter in middle school. Chloe de St. Aubin is the outlier, since she didn't really know them until relatively recently and wasn't a full member when they played their first show.

Back then, Ava Schrobilgen played drums (and still sometimes does), but she wanted to get out front, so Die Spitz needed another drummer. It was January 2022, and the other three didn't really know how to be in a band yet. Their first gig was at the Hole In The Wall, an accurately named Austin institution that holds a few hundred people. Today, they all laugh that they "played so terribly" that night.

"We didn't know anything about how anything during a show works, so we brought three separate cars," Halter remembers "We brought a PA. We brought monitors. We brought our own microphones and mic stands."

"I think it's just the 19-year-old mindset where you drink a bunch of alcohol and you're like, 'I'm gonna do whatever I want!,'" says Livingston.

"I only played a few songs of the set with them," de St. Aubin remembers. "They'd bring me onstage halfway through, and I was randomly in the crowd."

"We told her to open up the pit, mosh-instigate," Halter laughs.

De St. Aubin did her best. "I tried to instigate stuff, but at the time, I was really reclusive, so it was a very stressful task for me, to be like, 'Get into it, guys! But I'm also scared!'"

Backstage in Salt Lake City, all four members of Die Spitz are a little quieter than you might expect, but they really come alive when they're telling that story. They grin at each other. They giggle at each other's additions to the story. They talk over each other. You can see it radiate off them: They love being in this band.

When Die Spitz take the stage at Kilby, you can see that love in action before they even play a note. Kate Halter handstand-walks across the entire stage before she picks up her bass while Kesha's "Blow" blares over the speakers. After a few songs, Ava Schrobilgen jumps behind the drums, while Chloe de St. Aubin picks up a guitar and sings, the first of many instrument-switches. Eleanor Livingston holds a mic stand aloft and pumps her fist, her flaming red hair flying in all directions. The pit opens up. The members of Die Spitz never stop smiling. They might be having more fun than anyone in the crowd, and the people in the crowd are having a lot of fun.

As soon as they get off the stage, all four Die Spitz members jet over to the other side of the festival grounds to catch a furious Show Me The Body set. Later on, when I say that Die Spitz might be the heaviest band on the bill, Schrobilgen is quick to correct me, claiming that it's really SMTB. I get what she means, but Show Me The Body are weird-heavy. Die Spitz are heavy in the classic sense of the word — Sabbath-style riff-churn, gargle-roar vocals, lyrics about throwing yourself to the metaphorical or literal sword. They're a proudly horns-up old school beast of a band, and that makes them an anomaly at an indie-leaning fest like Kilby, just as it inevitably will when they join Olivia Rodrigo's tour.

There are subcultures where this kind of grit and grime thrives, but Die Spitz aren't really creatures of the doom metal or heavy psych undergrounds. Instead, they're a product of Austin's historically boundaryless music scene — a place where hardcore bands like Iron Age had their own takes on the warrior-metal spirit, where festivals like Levitation thrive, and where you can still see Frank Kozik posters from the '90s on venue walls. In their first year as a band, Die Spitz played high-profile sets at SXSW and Levitation. In their second year, they released their ultra-nasty EP Teeth and hit the road, first with OFF!, then with Amyl And The Sniffers. Things escalated quickly.

Die Spitz have been working fast, hitting career benchmarks at record speed, and all of it still feels new. When I ask them how many festivals they've played before Kilby, they're not quite sure. Fewer than 10, probably. But they love festivals. At Kilby, they run around to catch as many sets as their day will allow. In order to talk to me, they have to miss Snail Mail, which is not ideal.

To hear them tell it, Die Spitz can't stand to be apart even when they're not touring. Schrobilgen says, "We'll be at home, and we'll spend maybe a week, probably less, hanging out with our partners or our other friends, just chilling. And then I seriously start to feel, like, ill! And so sad! And when I see them again, I'm like, 'Oh my god, I'm OK! We're all OK!”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Pooneh Ghana

Kerrang! published a feature/interview in July and provided ten years why we need Die Spitz in your life. I am looking forward to them coming to the U.K. next year. I wonder if they will be booked for Glastonbury in the summer. They would be incredible. Rather than drop in all ten reasons, I have selected a few to look at:

“They’re a tight-knit gang

Eleanor, Ava and Kate have known each other for years, but when Chloe came into the picture, they realised they had the potential to go the distance as a band...

Eleanor: “We met Chloe right before we played our first show. We had some disputes over the years from just being friends for that long, and I feel like Chloe came in and was the missing puzzle piece. We had all this energy, and we needed someone like Chloe to finish the puzzle.”
Ava: “We actually bonded because we’re all vampires…”
Kate: “It’s all the blood banks that we’ve been robbing!”

They refuse to be easily labelled

Is it rock? Is it metal? Die Spitz are asking, ‘Why does that even matter, though?’

Kate: “I feel like it was intentional [to resist categorisation], but it’s also something that happened very naturally.”
Chloe: “We listen to all kinds of music, and we listen to all kinds of stuff together. I think it’s really easy to sometimes box women into a genre, so I think we realised that we had all these other interests and simultaneously didn’t want to be labelled as just one thing.”

They’ve got capitalism and consumerism in their crosshairs...

Though it’s not their entire identity, Die Spitz make their political views unambiguous, knowing there’s a mission to fulfil that’s bigger than just their band...

Chloe: “I think the U.S. has always had deep issues that have been taking a new, evil form. Every generation has their fight with authority, and this is it for me. There’s everything going on with Palestine and our ties to that, the way that our country works in terms of economics, the way that they’re happy to sell you a bunch of shit you don’t need, but won’t give you healthcare and privatise everything. It’s bullshit.”
Ava: “I also think, ‘How could you not write about it?’ It blows me away that there’s people who don’t talk about it and who don’t care and just live their lives every single day like nothing’s happening. I’m kind of jealous of them. Honestly, I feel like they are happier than we are most days. We have so much privilege, not only being white Americans, but also now having a platform. I think it’s our responsibility to continue to talk about these things and educate other people on it and fight the good fight in every little way that we can.”

They want the band to embody the representation they wish they’d had growing up

Die Spitz grew up watching men dominate stages, but now the tide’s turning, and they want to be a part of the shift towards a more feminist future...

Eleanor: “I feel like I almost had internalised misogyny growing up. I don’t think that there was enough access to – or maybe I wasn’t in the right spaces for – seeing woman rage. I had to outgrow what was being put in front of me as a teenager and a young adult. I’m really grateful to hopefully beable to do that now for other people, especially here in Texas.”
Ava: “Something that keeps us going is knowing that we are the women onstage that we wish that we saw as kids. Getting the chance to see that would have helped us accept ourselves and feel proud of ourselves. The main thing that keeps me doing this, even though I do have a lot of struggles with the little bit of fame that we have, is seeing parents bring their little kids up to me, and you can tell that that little kid is [like us]. They’ll be so happy and have stars in their eyes. It’s so sweet”.

I think I will end there. Things have grown and expanded in Die Spitz’s world since I spotlighted them last year. A lot of tour dates and people giving a lot of love to Something to Consume. I feel that the coming year or two will be even bigger. Another album, headline sets and lots of honours. Go and follow and listen to this magnificent band. It is true that they definitely need to be…

IN your life.

___________

Follow Die Spitz

Official:

https://www.diespitz.com/

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/diespitz/

TikTok:

https://www.tiktok.com/@diespitz

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/diespitz/

YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/@diespitzz

Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/0zfZmpHTu0MlkkNr5KHeXE?si=QgCUa5aaRmGyCPaHnJRj5g

FEATURE: Room for the Love: Why Kate Bush’s Detachment from The Kick Inside Should Be Reconsidered

FEATURE:

 

 

Room for the Love

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush performing Wuthering Heights at the BBC in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Don Smith

Why Kate Bush’s Detachment from The Kick Inside Should Be Reconsidered

__________

I am putting out…

Kate Bush features that take us to her earliest career days. Around 1978 and before. I am re-reading Graeme Thomson's fantastic and essential book, Under the Ivy: The Life and Music of Kate Bush. If you read the first few chapters, you get a good impression of who Kate Bush was when she was at school. We learn about her earliest relationships, taking danced classes and becoming infatuated with movement and mime, in addition to the earliest recordings. It is my favourite period of her career. In terms of the albums she is proud of and how she views her first few – 1978’s The Kick Inside and Lionheart; 1980’s Never for Ever -, I feel there is a sense of detachment and Bush not really happy. She started to feel in control and content when it came to 1982’s The Dreaming. She produced that album solo. When it comes to her debut, The Kick Inside, Graeme Thomnson writes how it is unique. None of her peers were recording and writing in that way. In terms of how she addressed love and desire. The characters she brought in. So unconventional and original, this is an album that still sounds daring and hugely accomplished today. No doubt a genius, I feel the teenage Kate Bush was not ceded much control. Producer Andrew Powell assembled the band and was directing. Bush could suggest ideas, though perhaps she felt more of a bystander and not the architecture. These were her songs, so I am not sure whether she would do something different with production. Even if there would have been discussion whether she could produce, as a young artist on her debut, it would have been a huge gamble. She distanced herself from The Kick Inside pretty much as soon as it came out (February 1978). Even that early on, she wanted her music to be raw and real. The album was performed by excellent and experienced musicians. The recording period was a very happy one.

That said, Bush did want that masculine energy that we hear on later albums like The Dreaming. One of the quotes that stands out is when she said she did not want to be airy-fairy and light. “I’m not happy with being associated with such soft, romantic vibes”. That’s what she said to Kerrang! in 1984. She wanted to get heavier in the sound sense. More guts., punch, bites and masculinity. EMI would definitely not have thought that hearing her demos and her earliest recordings. With Lionheart, there was a bit of a move to something heavier. Songs like Hammer Horror and Wow a bit punchier. It seems like The Kick Inside was a compromise or disappointment, though these were her songs and she would have been able to have some call and vote. Though it seems some of the demos changed radically before they got onto the album. Whether Andrew Powell heard a heavier and bolder Coffee Homeground or Wow and then softened it. That feeling that a young female singer should be more romantic and lighter. You could say a masterpiece like Hounds of Love is so revered is because it has this hunting instinct. Big drums and big production. It is epic and masculine. By 1989, when The Sensual World came out, Bush did move to something more female. That desire to explore sounds and themes with a more feminine lens. From Never for Ever to Hounds of Love, there was this increasing push towards music that was gutsier and bolder. You can understand why she a little disappointed that her 1978 debut was a bit soft. That is not what I think, though you feel Kate Bush was a little disenchanted. I think she was wrong to distance herself. Maybe she does not feel that way today. You can hear elements of 2005’s Aerial and 2011’s 50 Words for Snow and nods back to The Kick Inside. More piano-based and with this more romantic element, I do feel things came full circle. A lot of reviews paint The Kick Inside as being a bit soft and airy-fairy. If once was the case that artists name-checked Kate Bush based on Hounds of Love, I feel more and more are invested in The Kick Inside. You can hear direct connections to artists such as Billie Eilish.

This somewhat stranger Kate Bush is intriguing and very attractive to a wave of younger songwriters. Never seeing The Kick Inside as this over-romantic and somewhat sickly album, there is this unconventional approach. Bush’s vocals always exciting and unique. It is not like The Kick Inside is full of ballads and the tracks are traditional. Although several of the tracks document love and desire, she was writing in a way that was not soft or commercial. I feel some of Kate Bush’s regret was mirroring what critics said. How they feel The Kick Inside is airy-fairy. Basically agreeing with them. This is not doing justice to an album that is bold and brave. She talks about menstruation and period pain. Suicide, incest and ghosts. You cannot define The Kick Inside as being romantic and light. Yes, there are songs that talk about passion. Though the lyrics are unusual and poetic. Think about The Man with the Child in His Eyes. How can anyone who writes a song like this not want to be associated with it?! Both Beth Orton and Fiona Apple have said how The Kick Inside is among their favourite albums. The latter grew up playing and singing songs from it. You can feel that D.N.A. in Apple’s music. How she writes about love and sex. Some songs that discuss abuse or are very open and shocking. This bravery and rawness is something that might have in part have been influenced by The Kick Inside. How fearless and open Kate Bush is on her debut. You could never listen to its thirteen tracks and think that it is soft or lacking in bite.

If she was thinking this in 1984, that would be when Hounds of Love was taking shape. I would like to think that, if asked now, she would acknowledge how incredible The Kick Inside is. I do want to bring in a case for the defence. Laura Snapes’s review of The Kick Inside for Pitchfork. I have sourced this before, but her words and descriptions highlight how The Kick Inside was anything but too soft and romantic. Even when Bush was writing about romance, you could find something cheeky, explicit, tantalising and risk-taking. Not like this teenage artist was being submissive, doe-eyed and this awe-struck woman who was writing these sappy and sickly-sweet love songs. I don’t think there is anything on The Kick Inside that tallies with Kate Bush’s disassociation. What compelled her to say this?! Her words might not have been right. Feeling that The Kick Inside was lacking in production and instrumental punch. In terms of her lyrics and singing, you can feel this electric charge and sweat. In its own way, it has quite a lot of bite and body. Even Feel It, which might be one of the most romantic or conventional, features these lines: “Feel your warm hand walking around/I won't pull away, my passion always wins”. This curiosity and passion from a young woman. She is not writing romantic and slushy songs like many of her peers. There is this physicality and risqué element. I guess Them Heavy People could be seen as a little hippy-dippy or airy-fairy. Though it is a song that is captivating and compelling. Laura Snapes’s words about The Kick Inside highlights how she was definitely not writing in a soft and overly-feminine way. Never submissive or soft, even moments that don’t gel and could be better are still so different to anything that was around in 1978:

“Besides, Bush had always felt that she had male musical urges, drawing distinctions between herself and the female songwriters of the 1960s. “That sort of stuff is sweet and lyrical,” Bush said of Carole King and co. in 1978, “but it doesn’t push it on you, and most male music—not all of it, but the good stuff—really lays it on you. It’s like an interrogation. It really puts you against the wall and that’s what I’d like my music to do. I’d like my music to intrude.” (Evidently, she had not been listening to enough Laura Nyro.) That reasoning underpinned Bush’s first battle with EMI, who wanted to release the romp “James and the Cold Gun” as her first single. Bush knew it had to be the randy metaphysical torch song “Wuthering Heights,” and she was right: It knocked ABBA off the UK No. 1 spot. She soon intruded on British life to the degree that she was subject to unkind TV parodies.

The louche “L’Amour Looks Something Like You” treads similarly brazen territory though lands less soundly. She fantasizes about “that feeling of sticky love inside” as if anticipating a treacle pudding, and there is an unctuous gloop to the arrangement that makes it one of the album’s least distinctive songs. More complex desires tended to elicit her more inherently sensual and accomplished writing. “Moving,” her tribute to dance teacher Lindsay Kemp, is so absurdly elegant and lavish that its beauty seems to move Bush to laughter: There is deep respect in her admiration for him, in concert with piercing operatic notes and impish backing vocal harmonies that sound like they should have been handled by a chorus of Jim Henson creations. “You crush the lily in my soul” as an awed metaphor for the timidity of girlhood gone away is unimpeachable.

What made Bush’s writing truly radical was the angles she could take on female desire without ever resorting to submissiveness. “Wuthering Heights” is menacing melodrama and ectoplasmic empowerment; “The Saxophone Song”—one of two recordings made when she was 15—finds her fantasizing about sitting in a Berlin bar, enjoying a saxophonist’s playing and the effect it has on her. But she is hardly there to praise him: “Of all the stars I’ve seen that shine so brightly/I’ve never known or felt in myself so rightly,” she sings of her reverie, with deep seriousness. We hear his playing, and it isn’t conventionally romantic but stuttering, coarse, telling us something about the unconventional spirits that stir her.

And if there is trepidation in the arrangement of “The Man With the Child in His Eyes,” it reflects other people’s anxieties about its depicted relationship with an older man: Will he take advantage, let her down? This is the other teenage recording, her voice a little higher, less powerfully exuberant, but disarmingly confident. Her serene, steady note in the chorus—“Oooooh, he’s here again”—lays waste to the faithless. And whether he is real, and whether he loves her, is immaterial: “I just took a trip on my love for him,” she sings, empowered, again, by her desire. There’s not a fearful note on The Kick Inside, and yet there is still room for childish wonder: Just because Bush appeared emotionally and musically sophisticated beyond her years didn’t mean denying them.

The Kick Inside was Bush’s first, the sound of a young woman getting what she wants. Despite her links to the 1970s’ ancien régime, she recognized the potential to pounce on synapses shocked into action by punk, and eschewed its nihilism to begin building something longer lasting. It is ornate music made in austere times, but unlike the pop sybarites to follow in the next decade, flaunting their wealth while Britain crumbled, Bush spun hers not from material trappings but the infinitely renewable resources of intellect and instinct: Her joyous debut measures the fullness of a woman’s life by what’s in her head”.

It did sort of bug me that Bush said in an interview that she did not want to be associated with soft and romantic sounds. That is how she saw her debut. The Kick Inside dismissed. Alongside fearlessness is this child-like wonder. You can think about modern artists like Chappell Roan very much latching onto The Kick Inside and being drawn to that. Olivia Rodrigo too. The Kick Inside was groundbreaking. Listen to Wild Beasts and their acrobatic, unusual, swooping and sweeping songs of lust and desire and you can feel that link to The Kick Inside. There is plenty of teeth and guts on the 1978 debut, though the production is not as impactful and bold as it would become when Kate Bush was producing. That does not mean that The Kick Inside is soft and romantic. As The Kick Inside turns fifty in 2028, I will be dissecting it and writing about it a lot. The Kick Inside is an album that Kate Bush should be…

VERY proud of.

FEATURE: One for the Record Collection! Essential October Releases

FEATURE:

 

 

One for the Record Collection!

IN THIS PHOTO: Victoria Monét

Essential October Releases

__________

NEXT month…

IN THIS PHOTO: Rachel Chinouriri

sees the release of a fair few big albums from major artists. I am recommending the albums you will want to pre-order. You can see a list here. I am starting out with albums due on 4th October. Four that you will want to keep an eye out for. Fat Dog’s Cancel Me (I’m Tired) is an album you can pre-order here. They are one of our best young bands, so it will be exciting when they release their latest album:

“The second album by South London seven-piece Fat Dog is titled Cancel Me (I’m Tired). After releasing their debut album WOOF. in 2024 and becoming one of the UK’s most exciting breakthrough bands in the process, they have a good reason to be tired. They’ve spent the period since WOOF.’s release spreading their raucous, infectious and irresistible bark around the world. The reason that they want you to cancel them is that they’ve been around the world and they’re tired. But if Fat Dog - Joe Love, Chris Hughes, Morgan Wallace, Ellis Dickson, Michael Dunlop, Dillon Harrison and Jed Bevington - are tired with the world, the world is not tired of them. In fact, the world can’t get enough of them.

With follow up Cancel Me (I’m Tired), Fat Dog have created an exhilarating, swaggering, panoramic, inventive, re-inventive, re-re-inventive electro-punk-art-pop-rock’n’roll-space-country triumph that deserves all the adjectives. Over ten mind-bending and melodic tracks, it blends electro-pop anthems, cascading rave bangers, cowboy-tinged pitstops and swirling psychedelia. Into its lyrical orbit, the record pulls mentions of addiction, family ties, love, AI, ancestry, extra-terrestrials, Chris Tarrant, S&M, B&M, H&M and M&Ms. Cancel Me (I’m Tired) possesses all the rabid frenzy and electrifying excitement of their debut but now delivered on a grand and glorious scale. Big, big things are ahead. Fat Dog are only just getting going”.

It is always brilliant when Johnny Marr releases an album. The Age of Everything is out on 4th October. You can pre-order a copy here. I am turning to Rough Trade and their words about The Age of Everything. Well, technically, they are Johnny Marr’s words. There will definitely be a lot of interest and love around this album. Judging by what has been released from The Age of Everything so far, it is going to be up there with Marr’s very best solo work:

“The Age of Everything is Johnny Marr's fifth full-length studio record. Written in London, developed live on the road across the East Coast of North America and recorded in Manchester, The Age of Everything captures the energy and tensions of the city. Sharp, fast and dynamic, filled with ideas and possibilities. “This is the record that’s been the most cathartic. The title came to me early in the process and became an inescapable idea. It seemed to sum up the way I think a lot of people are feeling. It’s all encompassing, but it's not necessarily a negative statement. There’s a sense of overwhelm in the culture brought about by technology, but looking at it with a different light, there could also be a sense of possibility.” – Johnny Marr”.

The penultimate album from 4th October I want to cover is Phoebe Green’s Premature Nostalgia. This might be an artist that you are new to or do not know much about. I would urge everyone to check out her music and pre-order Premature Nostalgia. Green is a fabulous artist who I have been following for a while now. Everything she touches is golden:

“Written and produced alongside her sister Lucy Green between Phoebe's flat in Manchester and their parents' home in the coastal town of Lytham St Annes, Premature Nostalgia finds Phoebe Green at her most psychologically unguarded - documenting the impulse to grieve moments before they've even disappeared, turning spiralling inner monologues, warped electronics and metallic textures into fractured, emotionally combustible alt-pop.

A darker and more enigmatic companion to 2025 EP The Container and her acclaimed debut album Lucky Me , Premature Nostalgia draws inspiration from artists such as Imogen Heap, Oklou, Jockstrap, James Blake, FKA twigs and Sega Bodega - embracing warped electronics, fragmented structures and more experimental forms of pop songwriting. The album also features collaborations with Picture Parlour's Katherine Parlour and incorporates field recordings and metallic textures pulled directly from Manchester's industrial landscape and club culture.

At its core, however, the album remains rooted in the bond between Phoebe and Lucy - sisters, collaborators and proud adopted Mancunians navigating the realities of independent artistry together”.

Prior to getting to five albums from 11th October that are well worth pre-ordering, I would recommend people check out Victoria Monét’s Frequency of Love. There is not a huge amount of detail out there concerning the album, but Rough Trade provide some information. Another album that you should consider pre-ordering. October shaping up to be one of the best months for new albums. Some wonderful releases are due:

“Victoria Monét opens a fresh chapter with Frequency of Love, a record that feels timeless, elevated, and fully in command. Blending R&B with the romance of classic cinema and the pull of the dance floor, it plays like a rich, sensory listen shaped by love, vibration, and the full scope of her artistry.

A multi-hyphenate superstar and 3x Grammy Award winner, Victoria Monét made her debut album JAGUAR II one of the most celebrated releases of its moment. It earned seven Grammy nominations and landed on Best of 2023 lists from Barack Obama, Jay-Z, Rolling Stone, TIME, and Vogue.

The praise around Victoria Monét has come from every corner, including Beyoncé, Janet Jackson, and Bruno Mars. Frequency of Love builds on that foundation with style, confidence, and serious presence”.

Shifting now to 9th October and some tremendous albums. I’ll start off this week with Dawn Richard’s Creole Culture. This is an artist that I have a lot of respect for. I love her music, so I am looking forward to hearing what is on offer through Creole Culture. You can pre-order it here. An album I predict will get a lot of positive reviews when it comes out:

“Dawn Richard returns to her King Creole era with Creole Culture, a bold, future-facing love letter to New Orleans. Drawing on her Black and Native American heritage, it completes the arc begun with New Breed and Second Line, this time telling the city’s story through her own eyes.

Following her avant-garde R&B collaborations with Spencer Zahn, including 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, this record softens the brass-heavy swagger without losing its power. It moves through triumph, grief, desire and reflection, blending R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop and jazz with real care.

Guests including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball and Durand Bernarr help build the atmosphere. From enough to fiesta, Creole Culture is expansive, deeply personal and one of Dawn Richard’s most striking records yet”.

Moving from Dawn Richards to Jamie T and Ghosts (100 Days of Morning). His latest album follows 2022’s The Theory of Whatever. This is an artist whose music I have listened to for years. So this is another album that I am going to explore when it comes out. You can pre-order it here. To think, it has almost been twenty years since he released his debut album, Panic Prevention (2007):

“Jamie T returns with Ghosts (100 Days of Morning), an 11-track collection shaped during a difficult period and filled with old ghosts brought back into focus. It looks at growing up, leaving youth behind, love, loss and the brittle nostalgia of halcyon indie-era nights.

There is a real sense of release here too. Ghosts (100 Days of Morning) feels just as much about letting go as it does reclaiming identity, with 3310, the introspective closer Tallahassee and Cocktail, a collaboration with Damon Albarn, all standing out.

The album is produced in part by Jamie T, James Dring of Loyle Carner and Blur, and Hugo White of The Maccabees”.

Three more from 9th October that I want to cover off. Jess Williamson’s A Mile South of Heaven is an album you can pre-order here. Again, this may be an artist who is new to you. Though I do feel that she is someone that you should invest in. Her sixth studio album follows 2023’s Time Ain't Accidental. A prolific and extraordinary artist, here are some details about her upcoming album:

“Jess Williamson has built one of the most distinctive voices in American music — crystalline, acrobatic, and unmistakably her own. The Texas-born, Los Angeles-based singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist has spent the better part of a decade carving out her own lane at the intersection of indie folk, alt-country, and a deeply personal confessional tradition. Now, on her seventh studio album, she steps into new creative territory.

Produced by Shooter Jennings, the album finds Williamson's artistry meeting its ideal counterpart. Jennings brings a deep-roots sensibility and studio instinct honed across decades, and together they've crafted twelve songs that honor the grit and sweep of classic country while remaining unmistakably contemporary. Williamson's voice remains the central instrument: front and center, emotionally unguarded, carrying the kind of weight that demands a room go quiet. But with Jennings at the helm, the sonic canvas is richer and more expansive than anything in her catalog to date — full of texture, warmth, and that ineffable Nashville-meets-Laurel-Canyon atmosphere that lives somewhere between Linda Ronstadt and Waylon Jennings”.

Remi Wolf’s Mud is due on 9th October. You can pre-order the album here. There is not a lot of information on this one either, but I hope that the below does provide some intrigue. Wolf is an artist who always delivers incredible music, so I feel that Mud is going to be an album you cannot afford to miss out on. I am definitely going to listen to it when it comes out:

“If Remi Wolf’s first two albums, Juno from 2021 and Big Ideas from 2024, lived in technicolor, her third LP Mud feels more earthy, grounded and close to the soil. The colour is still there, but it comes from a more rooted place.

That directness runs through the whole record. Written with real rawness, Mud strips away synths and programmed drums to leave Remi Wolf at her most lyrically and sonically vulnerable. These songs carry the feeling of singing around a campfire with friends and a couple of guitars, because that is how making the album felt to Wolf.

To reach that clearing in the forest, she had to carve out a new trail first”.

Prior to getting to 16th October and a few albums from that week you’ll want to pre-order, the final one from 9th October is Sheryl Crow’s Pick You Up. You can pre-order the album on Galaxy Blue vinyl. One of the most striking album covers of this year too from the iconic and legendary American artist. Someone I have been following since her debut in the 1990s:

“These songs arrive as a heartfelt reflection on being human and wanting connection. Born from life in this exact moment, they reckon with the chaos and constant noise around us, while holding tight to hope, love, and the beauty that still surrounds us.

There is a real sense here of songwriting as a way through: making sense of what is going on inside and all around, and turning that into something shared. The hope is simple and generous: that whoever hears these songs feels less alone.

Think of them as a soothing moisturiser for chapped hearts. When being awake can feel like trudging through a burning desert, these songs offer a reminder that this is only of a moment, and that life remains a beautiful gift worth sharing”.

Four from 16th October that you will want to pre-order. The first is Florrie’s Magic for a While. You can pre-order the album here. If you have not heard of Florrie, I would thoroughly recommend that you listen to her music. She was formerly an in-house drummer for the production house Xenomania, where she played on major Girls Aloud hits like the 2008 single, The Promise. I loved her 2024 debut album, The Lost Ones, so I am very interested in what she will offer with her second album. A remarkable and singular songwriter. In June, The Line of Best Fit shared news of Florrie’s forthcoming album:

“Magic For a While started to take shape in early 2025 while Florrie - a drummer, singer-songwriter, and model from Bristol - was living alone in Los Angeles. Recording live drum loops, she brought the raw sketches into rehearsal rooms to build tracks through instinctive jam sessions.

“I wanted the record to feel live,” she explains. “I wanted energy in it. I wanted things to feel human.” Higgins, a co-writer and producer on much of the LP, helped shape those live impulses into sleek, expansive pop productions.

Florrie first built a cult reputation in the early 2010s through a string of self-released singles and EPs with Xenomania, while her drumming anchored hits like Girls Aloud’s “The Promise” and her songwriting credits extended to artists including Kylie, MNEK, and Tove Lo. More recently, she has played London’s O2 Arena supporting Girls Aloud and toured the US with G Flip, moving her beyond an internet-pop underground to a new audience.

Magic For a While is the follow-up to Florrie's debut solo album, The Lost Ones, which was released in 2024”.

A few more albums from 16th October that you will want to pre-order. Fontaines D.C.’s Dopamine Chamber is among the most anticipated albums of this year. The Irish band are in their prime right now, in the sense they are being talked about as potential Glastonbury headliners. They have risen to that stage in their career. You can pre-order their album here:

“Fontaines D.C. release their fifth studio album, Dopamine Chamber, released via XL Recordings. Produced by James Ford, it is the follow-up to 2024’s UK platinum-certified Romance – and the sound of a band moving decisively away from the guitar language of their early records into something colder, stranger and more synthetic.

Dopamine Chamber arrives like a constellation behind undulating sighs of smog: potent balladry, anthemic melodies glinting through the murk. In a world tipping towards collapse, it asks how pleasure mutates amid peril—and what our pursuit of it reveals about us. Across the album, Fontaines D.C. – Grian Chatten, Carlos O’Connell, Conor Curley, Conor Deegan and Tom Coll – move between gratification and dread until the two meld together, reflecting the overwhelm of artificial intelligence, environmental collapse and political violence all riding the same algorithms as memes, jokes and celebrity culture. “The album itself is a dopamine chamber,” says Chatten. “You step inside and we test these different mind- or mood-altering pieces of music on you.”

Where Romance held its tension in balance, this record tips it. “I think Romance was maybe 60 per cent human and 40 per cent corrupted by automation, and a loss of feeling,” says Chatten, who spent time among the faded grandeur of Venice, Vienna and Sicily in search of lyrical inspiration. “This one feels more like 60 per cent corrupted — the mask is wearing the face a little more.” He resisted any pull towards easy optimism: “I felt it would be more powerful to leave the hope out and reflect the ugliness honestly. This one needed to feel more like a catastrophic warning.”

“Our albums have always questioned a sense of place,” says bassist Conor Deegan. “First Dublin, then being away from Dublin, and then trying to find the romance elsewhere. On this record, the question became: where do you escape to?” Into the self, perhaps – or hedonism, fantasy, cosmetic perfection, eternal youth or the endless refresh of a screen.

Fontaines D.C. have spent five albums refusing to repeat themselves – from Dogrel (2019) through A Hero’s Death (2020), the No. 1 Skinty Fia (2022) and the anarchic, kaleidoscopic Romance (2024). Dopamine Chamber is their most radical turn yet: cold synthesiser tones, marching drums, samples and triggers, several songs with no guitars at all, and the swooning strings of 1960s Italian pop pulled into something synthetic. For guitarist Conor Curley, the aim was to break from the band’s own reference points: “I was trying to find stuff that pointed into the future.” It was made with James Ford between London, the English countryside and Palermo, where Chatten recorded vocals in a makeshift booth built from mattresses and cushions.

“There’s a poignant sense of us being on the brink of some other kind of form of humanity, or non-humanity,” says Chatten. For their fifth album, Fontaines D.C. have built the chamber. What happens to the listener inside it will be the experiment”.

Prior to wrapping things up with three albums from 30th October for you to pre-order, there is one more from 16th October (none from 23rd October I am highlighting). Rachel Chinouriri’s I think I spoke too soon is the next album I am recommending. This is an artist that I really love. You can pre-order it here. Here are some details about an album that you will definitely want to get a copy of:

“Two-time Brit Award nominee and winner of the 2026 Silver Clef Best New Artist award, Rachel Chinouriri steps into a new chapter with I think I spoke too soon.

Threading dancefloor synth-pop through her tender indie songwriting, the record leans into the pull between polished glamour and creeping self-doubt. It follows her acclaimed 2024 debut, What A Devastating Turn of Events, while pushing her sound into sharper, bolder territory.

At its core, this is a deeply autobiographical release, with Chinouriri exploring sobriety, femininity, and identity through the blurred emotions of her early-to-mid twenties, all shaped by one question: “If I continue down this path, will I like who I’ll become?”.

The Avalanches’ No Bad Memories is an album you should pre-order. I was not aware that The Avalanches had a new album coming out, so it took me by surprise somewhat. Over twenty-five years since their debut, Since I Left You, we are still getting incredible music from the Australian group (they currently consist of Robbie Chater and Tony Di Blasi, along with multi-instrumentalist Andy Szekeres):

“The Avalanches return with their fourth album No Bad Memories, a new album inspired by the simultaneously magical and unsettling ways advertising, technology and pop culture become woven into the fabric of our memories. No Bad Memories is an ambivalent love letter to the nostalgic pull of commercial jingles, start-up chimes and forgotten audio logos. Featuring collaborators including Karen O, Jamie XX, Portraits of Tracy and many more.

CD TRACKLIST
01. Bd-R 
02. Together (feat. Nikki Nair, Jessy Lanza & Prentiss)  
03. Xerox Altalink B8055 (feat. Ryoji Ikeda) 
04. I Give Everything I Have 2 U (feat. Loaded Honey) 
05. Every Single Weekend (feat. Jamie xx)  
06. Friends Forever 
07. Blue Shadows (feat. Karen O)  
08. Logoland   
09. Like Clockwork / Hit By Traffic (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
10. All The Time In The World (feat. Rivers Cuomo, Vegyn & Baby Marlboro)  
11. 3D Glasses Not Included 
12. Vida (feat. Erick the Architect) 
13. Paradise Island (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi & Mike Patton) 
14. Unicorn Quest™ (feat. Ryoji Ikeda) 
15. Far Away (feat. John Glacier & Khadija Al Hanafi)  
 16. Our Love Is Alive (feat. Suzanne Ciani & Barry Can't Swim) 
17. Evergreen Altar (feat. Vegyn) * EXCLUSIVE TO VINYL, CD, CASSETTE
18. Can't Get Over Losing You (feat. Portraits of Tracy) 
19. Watch Out! It's Cloudy (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
20. Highfield (feat. Panda Bear) 
21. Under Yr Power 
22. SUV Heaven (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
23. One More Fantasy (feat. Carly Simon) 
24. Break Out Corporate Tag (feat. Ryoji Ikeda & Portraits Of Tracy) 
25. Magic Wand (feat. Barry Can't Swim) 
26. Superfun!™ TV Spot (feat. Mike Patton) 
27. No Bad Memories  
28. The Pavements Light (feat. Haruomi Hosono) 

VINYL TRACKLIST
SIDE A:
01. Bd-R 
02. Together (feat. Nikki Nair, Jessy Lanza & Prentiss)  
03. Xerox Altalink B8055 (feat. Ryoji Ikeda) 
04. I Give Everything I Have 2 U (feat. Loaded Honey) 
05. Every Single Weekend (feat. Jamie xx)  
06. Friends Forever 
07. Blue Shadows (feat. Karen O)  
08. Logoland  

SIDE B:  
09. Like Clockwork / Hit By Traffic (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
10. All The Time In The World (feat. Rivers Cuomo, Vegyn & Baby Marlboro)  
11. 3D Glasses Not Included 
12. Vida (feat. Erick the Architect) 
13. Paradise Island (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi & Mike Patton) 
14. Unicorn Quest™ (feat. Ryoji Ikeda) 
15. Far Away (feat. John Glacier & Khadija Al Hanafi)  

SIDE C:
16. Our Love Is Alive (feat. Suzanne Ciani & Barry Can't Swim) 
17. Evergreen Altar (feat. Vegyn) * EXCLUSIVE TO VINYL, CD, CASSETTE
18. Can't Get Over Losing You (feat. Portraits of Tracy) 
19. Watch Out! It's Cloudy (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
20. Highfield (feat. Panda Bear) 

SIDE D:
21. Under Yr Power 
22. SUV Heaven (feat. Khadija Al Hanafi) 
23. One More Fantasy (feat. Carly Simon) 
24. Break Out Corporate Tag (feat. Ryoji Ikeda & Portraits Of Tracy) 
25. Magic Wand (feat. Barry Can't Swim) 
26. Superfun!™ TV Spot (feat. Mike Patton) 
27. No Bad Memories  
28. The Pavements Light (feat. Haruomi Hosono)”.

Moving into 30th October, that brings me to Caroline Rose’s Gentling the Horse at the Walt Whitman Mall. The Long Island-born artist is so prolific. Last year, she released Year of the Slug. You can pre-order Caroline Rose’s forthcoming album here. I am really looking forward to this. Below is a brief bit of detail that gives you a glimpse inside an album that you will want to pre-order for sure:

“Caroline Rose returns with Gentling the Horse at the Walt Whitman Mall, the first release on their newly launched independent label, Suck records. Produced by John Congleton, it feels expansive, unguarded, and full of sharp, clear-eyed songwriting.

Across Gentling the Horse at the Walt Whitman Mall, Caroline Rose follows the strange overlap of humor and grief that runs through modern American life. The record balances pointed observations about crumbling capitalist structures with a deeply human hope for connection.

There is beauty and absurdity here in equal measure, with wildness, tenderness, and satire all sharing the same space. Led by Yip Yip Yow, a longtime fan favorite performed live for nearly a decade before its official release, this album opens an exciting new era for Caroline Rose”.

The penultimate album I am recommending is Jordan Rakei’s A Safe Place to Be Wild. Not too much detail about this album available, but you can pre-order it here. Jordan Rakei is a tremendous artist whose debut, Cloak, came out in 2016. The New Zealand-Australian musician is one of the very best in the world, so A Safe Place to Be Wild is going to be among this year’s best albums:

“A Safe Place To Be Wild is the seventh LP from Jordan Rakei, arriving after more than a decade of pushing the boundaries of soul, jazz and alternative R&B. Fearless, intimate and emotionally direct, the album finds Jordan embracing uninhibited self-expression and placing vulnerability at the centre of his songwriting. Stripping everything back to raw feeling and unfiltered moments, A Safe Place To Be Wild captures an artist fully stepping into himself, confronting the fear of exposing his inner world and finding power in doing so”.

The final album I am spotlighting for this feature is The Big Moon’s Forever. This is a band who I am a fan of. You will want to pre-order this incredible album. The Big Moon are such an amazing band, so there will be a lot of eyes on Forever. A lot has changed for the band since their previous album, Here Is Everything:

“What happens after happily ever after? And how do you make forever count? These are the preoccupations at the heart of The Big Moon’s buoyant yet beautifully bittersweet fourth album, Forever.

Four years on from last LP Here Is Everything – and a further eight since frontwoman Juliette Jackson first laid the foundations for the band – the London-formed four-piece find themselves in a very different, if similarly challenging, headspace. Where that record was conceived in the context of COVID and found Jackson processing the life-altering experience of new motherhood, Forever examines what’s left when you’ve already checked off many of the major milestones, and is tempered by a first-hand understanding of life’s fragility.

The truth is, the past couple of years have been a big readjustment for Jackson. In 2024, she was diagnosed with a cholesteatoma – a benign but destructive cyst inside the eardrum which has to be removed with surgery. Jackson explains, “I permanently lost most of the hearing on one side, which was pretty much existential, because writing songs is my job and my identity.” Stoic by nature, Jackson forged forward with songwriting regardless but found herself faltering. “I couldn't hear properly, everything sounded out of tune and I was just struggling to find a point at all, just writing these miserable songs I couldn't really hear.”

The answer was to shift her outlook completely, manifesting “a happy ending that didn’t exist yet.” “I just decided to write songs for this imaginary time, one or two years in the future, when I would be all healed and happy again. I didn’t know if I would ever get to that point but, by projecting and almost tricking myself into it, it actually became a really nice way of writing.” It proved an extremely fruitful approach, producing some of the brightest songs of The Big Moon’s career to date. Recorded over three weeks at Norfolk’s Bam Bam Studios, with Kevin Morby-collaborator Sam Cohen co-producing alongside the band, Forever is brimming with hook-heavy alt-pop gems, not least because Jackson had fallen out of love with writing verses.

“Over the years I've got more impatient with music,” Jackson explains with a grin. “I just like getting straight to the point.” As bandmate Celia Archer explains, they hope the album proves uplifting. “They're not trivial songs lyrically or thematically or musically, but Jules has shown us you can face all this stuff and choose to be hopeful and find power from it. Hopefully other people can apply that to their own lives”.

October is a busy and varied month for albums. From Sheryl Crow and Johnny Marr through to Remi Wolf, Fontaines D.C. and Caroline Rose, there is something in there for pretty much all musical tastes. I hope that my recommendations have given you some options if you are looking for albums to pre-order. It does go to show that October is indeed…

AN exciting month.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Quiet Light

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

PHOTO CREDIT: Grace Alexander

Quiet Light

__________

I am going to come to…

PHOTO CREDIT: Sophia Liv Maguire for NME

a review of Quiet Light’s Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 mixtape, that was released earlier in the year. Many people know about Quiet Light, though I am relatively fresh to her work. If you are also new to her, then I hope that this feature provides some necessary information and substance. There are some interviews that I am covering off. Let’s start off with The Line of Best Fit and their interview from July. They write how this Texas-born artist brings emotion and accessibility to Ambient music. “Riya Mahesh didn’t get into Juilliard’s vocal performance program, she thought her career in music had come to an anticlimactic end”. When The Line of Best Fit spoke with Quiet Light, she was back home after taking leave from medical school to complete her latest album:

“Her first release with True Panther Records — the label behind Oklou, Grace Ives, Model/Actriz, and Frost Children — the album has quickly become one of the year’s critical darlings and made Mahesh herself one of the buzziest indie up-and-comers.

Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 is one of those records that feels like a turning point — both for an artist and a scene. It positions itself in electronica, ambient, and even occasionally hyperpop-leaning production while managing to find an extremely grounding emotional core in lyrics that feel like pages from a long-lost Richard Linklater screenplay and an addictive edge the hookiness of a Swedish pop song. Along with her True Panther labelmates and others like Chanel Beads, she’s pushing forward the style of yearning, intelligent indietronica that’s slowly coalescing in the scene. It’s perhaps the modern version of the Imogen Heap sound, updated for a generation that puts glitch rappers and Elliott Smith on the same playlist.

“I wanted to make an ambient record where you could show it to your random co-worker who doesn’t know anything about ambient music and they love the songs,” Mahesh says of her sonic mission for the album. “I wanted to make something that was experimental but still traditionally pretty.”

Mahesh is no stranger to a busy schedule. While working in a hospital and studying for her medical board exams — which, mind you, she’s now completed — she also managed to release five albums — including the first Blue Angel Sparkling Silver — along with scores of other singles and EPs.  “What would happen is the previous album would enter the mixing stage, and then I would start the next one,” she explains. “It was definitely, like, compulsive music making.” Sure, it was, as she describes it, a bit of a Hannah Montana double life, but she also wouldn’t trade it. In fact, she feels it made her better. What she calls the “militaristic” discipline of medical care turned into a hyper-diligent approach to perfecting her craft. “No matter what, you need to get up every day at a very early hour and go to the hospital and help people,” she says on her med school mindset. “That mentality really carried over into music, because there were periods where I was going to give up on this whole thing, like no one was listening, it’s a lot of work, I was spending a lot of money getting it mastered.

All of Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 was self-produced, a point she takes particular pride in. There’s a special sort of pleasure, she tells me, in correcting someone who assumes she had nothing to do with the production of her record. Women, as she rightly points out, are astoundingly underrepresented in producing circles, particularly in the ambient-electronic scene she calls home”.

It is interesting that here is an artist who is not rushing things. There is so much emphasis on content and artists putting out as much music as possible. Though Quiet Light hopes to release another record, she is going to pursue other interests. Music is very dear to her, yet she is not going to leap straight to another album. Artists can take a few years and then put out music. No real sense that Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 requires a quick follow-up. FADER interviewed Quiet Light in April. I am picking up various sections of the interview. It is interesting learning about her background, and especially how important the piano is to her:

“Mahesh grew up playing classical piano in Dallas and like many who learned an instrument young, she initially felt burdened by the classes her mother enrolled her in. That later changed when she realized that piano could be a “vessel” for everything she’d been feeling. As she got older, she found new meaning and connection in classical music. She found joy in developing her skills as a vocalist, training in opera for 10 years. But she still made time to listen to Disney Channel stars and country music. “Throughout my whole life, [music has] been the thing that gets me through the day,” she says.

She knew she wanted to make a sequel to 2023’s Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 1 because that record was “the truest version of myself,” she adds. “This whole concept of free-form ambient music that isn’t really ambient [but] has a lot of pop elements.”

I ask her how she feels now that her music has officially transformed from a private exploration into a wider career. “[Thinking] my music is so personal and so pure that I can’t share it with other people [is a] pessimistic take,” she says. “At the end of the day we all go through breakups, we all move, we all go through traumatic life events, [we all experience] happiness as well as love.”

She plans to release another record and then continue pursuing other interests for a period. She’ll still make music, as always, but the career machinations may pause. Music isn’t an all–or-nothing endeavor for her, but a part of life regardless of the show bookings or contracts.

“People like Lorde who are huge massive mega-stars take like four years where no one hears anything from them,” she says. “It’s important for me to be able to keep music as sacred as it possibly can be”.

The final interview I am getting to is from NME. They recently spoke to Quiet Light’s Riya Mahesh, among other things, taking part in Olivia Rodrigo's all-female festival, Daisy Chain Fields. You can read her diary here. It is incredible that we have artists like Quiet Light. Though she might not release another mixtape or album for a while, it is clear that she has already made a huge impact:

“Instead of one viral spike, Quiet Light and her fanbase have grown “organically” as more people find the music and come to shows every year. Mahesh, who will tour Europe and the UK later this year, counts herself lucky. “I’m not The Dare, which is freeing in a way,” she says. “I really didn’t think the music would mean anything to anyone except me, so it feels really special.”

“I never had that self-belief most artists have at a young age, that they’re destined for greatness,” she continues. “I’ve always been doubtful of my own musical talent. Anytime anything good happens, I’m just shocked.” When a song from her first ‘Blue Angel’ record appeared on a Spotify editorial playlist, her first reaction was pure panic: “I remember thinking, ‘What? People know about this?!’”

Signing to True Panther earlier this year took things to a new level. Six years of doing everything alone had made her a true “auteur”, taking the time to hone and execute her exact vision of Quiet Light. But self-sufficiency was reaching its natural ceiling: “I had ideas that were bigger than what I could do with my MacBook Pro.” Self-releasing music was also lonelier than she expected. “I’d put out a song, people would listen for a day or two, and everyone would forget about it.” Having a team now has been “really good for my mental health”, she shares. “It’s nice to have people with you to share in your success or failure.”

It’s partially changed how she sees the industry, too. Once a pessimist who used to resent the heavy emphasis on music marketing and pressure on artists to “really sell the product”, she now points to the likes of PinkPantheress “building a whole brand around plaid”, or Charli XCX’s immersive swerve from ‘Brat’ to ‘Music, Fashion, Film’, as proof that reinvention and creative direction can present real opportunity. “It’s actually a really amazing time to be an artist,” she says. “A couple of years ago, I would not have said that.”

Quiet Light will be the first artist in the line-up to perform at Daisy Chain Fields, which takes place in Irvine, California this Saturday (August 29). Quiet Light shows have historically been solo or minimalist affairs, but this weekend she’ll perform with a full band for the first time. “I’m all about a challenge,” she says, brightening also at the news that her Austin friends, and past NME Cover stars, Die Spitz are also on the bill. “It feels like a homecoming.”

The all-women, Lilith Fair-inspired bill – from Rodrigo, Chappell Roan and Doechii to Garbage, The Breeders and Bikini Kill – is performing for free, raising money for charities supporting women and girls, especially reproductive health. As a healthcare worker and “Texas girl at heart”, Mahesh feels the connection personally. “Things involving women’s bodies are really going to shit in Texas,” she says. “It really feels like we’re going backwards as a society. I’ve been trying to adopt a more hopeful mindset and work to make things better in my own way”.

I am going to wrap things up with a review for Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2. The Quietus provided their assessment of a mixtape that has Pop precision running right through it. I am not sure whether she is playing dates in the U.K. in the future. I feel there are a lot of people here that would really want to come and see her play. Bringing this sensational new mixtape to the stage:

“Quiet Light’s music is best listened to during the in-between parts of life, where change is most felt. Fittingly, her mixtape Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 throws the listener into the middle of this moving sound, with ‘Star100’ beginning like a half-heard conversation. Layering delicate harmonies, gliding synths and soft drum patterns, the song spirals through accelerated changes in tempo and pitch until reaching a climax, after which details melt away to leave the bare essentials, concluding with a sampled conversation asking why no one’s midlife crisis ever involves Bagel Bites.

The opening track reworks 2024’s ‘Love90’, a standout from the self-produced projects of Texas-raised artist and medical student Riya Mahesh, released ahead of signing to True Panther, home to Oklou and Jawnino. Her debut with the label is a companion to 2023’s independent Blue Angel Sparkling Silver. It’s a seamless evolution rather than a hard reset, aligning with a prolific set of releases that establish a coherent voice and visual identity.

The listener is lulled into a meditative state by the sitar drones of ‘New Dream’, whilst the scattered voicenotes and warped sounds of ‘You Say I Love You’ evoke Madonna’s ‘What It Feels Like For A Girl’ and Oneohtrix Point Never’s ‘Still Life’. Quiet Light successfully toes a line many struggle with; this is music rooted in the present, echoing Addison Rae or Dean Blunt, while carrying the timelessness of artists like Mazzy Star.

While Mahesh’s previous work was at its best when constructing impressionistic vignettes, here we see her refined precision as a pop songwriter. Standouts include the pitched-up hooks in ‘Postinternetfame’, as she laments a broken relationship, “singing Jeff Buckley in the car, saying things I know you don’t mean.” On lead single ‘Berlin’, the chorus is reminiscent of Avril Lavigne’s ‘Complicated’, where a deceptively effortless melody opens into a cathartic sing-along. Her skill lies in finding depth in the everyday, shaping simple observations into heartfelt stories.

Moments of intersection are the most central element to the mixtape. A peripheral voice in ‘Self Tape’ declares it “cusp season”– a term describing transitions between zodiac signs and relationships–before abruptly cutting to ‘Postinternetfame’. This flux is underscored by the placement of ‘The Sound Of You Leaving’ as track two. Sparser by design and laced with harmonic ambiguity, it captures the hollow sense of someone walking out of your life. While its position disrupts the mixtape’s flow, its intent feels unmistakable.

There’s a striking coherence to the Quiet Light project, underpinned by a lingering sense of longing. With a discography already defined by depth and conceptual clarity, Mahesh’s latest mixtape demands recognition to match her soft ambition”.

Go and follow Quiet Light. She is an artist that I can see enduring for years. Although there is no rush and she will take time to put out more music, it is exciting to see where she heads next. Finishing medical school and looking at other projects in the meantime. I really love Quiet Light and will look out for her music. Go and follow her on social media. Blue Angel Sparkling Silver 2 is the latest release from…

AN enormous talent.

___________

Follow Quiet Light

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/quietlight_forever

Twitter:

https://x.com/quietlight4ever

Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/6Uy2IwBjxdF0MxQVIN18n9?si=8FlaURQASQ6CC_aqUxfjMQ

YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/@quietlight_forever

FEATURE: Spotlight: Haute & Freddy

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

Haute & Freddy

__________

THIS is a duo that…

I am new to. I was reading some recent interviews with Haute & Freddy, and it piqued my interest. They released their debut album, Big Disgrace, in March. I will end with a review of that album. Prior to getting there, I wanted to bring together some interviews from this year. At the moment, Haute & Freddy are on tour. They head to the U.K. in November. Four interviews to get to. I am starting out with Cosmopolitan and their chat from August. They spoke with Haute & Freddy following their amazing Lollapalooza set:

“Michelle Buzz and Lance Shipp are not your typical pop stars. After cranking out hits and landing songwriting credits for artists like Britney Spears, Katy Perry, and Kylie Minogue, the pressure forced the duo and creative partners to nearly give up on their dreams of releasing their own music. That is, until they found a release from writing songs for the sake of playful creation. They found insatiable joy in their new songs; thus, their onstage Renaissance-era circus-runaway personas, Haute & Freddy, were born.

In an industry plagued by up-and-comers who feel they must evoke a certain gravitas to move up in the machine, it’s incredibly refreshing to see two artistes, at their core, bring a necessary whimsy back to the pop landscape. After years of melancholy piano ballads—which will always have a place in this writer’s heart—Haute & Freddy’s sonic universe isn’t afraid to be too loud or take up space.

Your Lollapalooza set was so electric, and I was incredibly impressed by you coming up with songs on the fly. How does it feel to bring Big Disgrace to bigger stages?

Haute: It feels right, because it’s a big disgrace, baby! But it’s intimidating because we have to fill the emptiness on these big stages, space-wise. I really love having the painted cart facade because we want to take attention away from LED screens and bring that old theater vibe back. But I’m running around, and I can’t stop it. I always tell Lance (Freddy) I’m going to move less or I’m going to pass out. On those bigger stages, it’s constant because I want it to feel like a small theater so bad.

Freddy: We have a lot more space to run around. There’s a song after “Symphony for a Queen” where we do this theatrical heavy breathing, and that’s campy, but it’s also needed in the moment.

Haute: My body’s like, “Oh, you’re finally breathing right. Thanks!”

I’m curious, because your personas are circus runaways who escaped to do things on their terms, and that seems like a beautiful allegory for how you both found this version of yourselves as artists. As Haute & Freddy evolves, how do you make sure you’re still giving yourselves the freedom to surprise yourselves?

Haute: I know myself better at this stage in life, and I know what keeps me playful or when things are getting too busy. I’ll take a day off, drive two hours to a smaller town, and look around an antique shop or go to the art supply store and buy brushes, even if I don’t know what I’m going to paint. I need those kinds of things that don’t have a mission for my creativity to stay happy and healthy or else it will feel like I have to instantly please people.

Freddy: Listening to each other and continuing to be open. I find the most surprises in trying things we don’t know will work, but we do it anyway. There’s a lot of beauty behind the “I don’t know”.

I want to head back to April and an interview from DORK. There is a lot of love for this Los Angeles duo in the U.K. They have this growing fanbase. It will be exciting when they come over here and play some dates soon. An act that definitely needs to be on your radar. Big Disgrace is definitely among the best debut albums of 2026:

“While a lot of Haute & Freddy is about embracing ridiculousness and over-the-top exuberance, it's also about something fundamentally important: community and connection. An implacable bond between the artist and the fans. "I think it's what we were craving," says Buzz. "I was craving community. The music heals me, too, and reminds me of my happy places."

The community bond is most clearly visible in the way that the Royal Court play along and match the band with their own creativity. They come to shows with their own distinct looks and styles. "Oh, man, I think we were in Chicago, and this person came in with an all-tuxedo where they affixed flowers to their shoulders, it was almost like two hoops that went all the way up to their ears, and it was just this arch of pink flowers," gushes Lance as he recalls one of the most memorable fan looks. "Our fans now come up to us, and they're like, please let us know what the dress code is. We need some lead time because it takes us a while to make these outfits," laughs Buzz.

The circus theme does actually take on a wider, deeper resonance for the duo. "Circus came from this emotional place of me truly climbing out of a long depression," reflects Buzz. "Literally just me and the universe, vibing on this fantasy of life as this circus, and the fairy tale that is Haute & Freddy. It just gave me this playground out of depression, and it still makes me feel like things make sense. It wasn't that long ago that Lance was like, yeah, I think the circus was a literal metaphor for our careers. I never put that together, but it does feel like you want to be an artist amongst these artists, but your skill set isn't the tightrope, and it's not juggling. These things that other people are really good at, I didn't feel like I was good at. The circus story is from a true emotional journey."

The album 'Big Disgrace' is the endpoint of that journey, but it's also just the beginning of a world that Haute & Freddy are building for themselves and for their community. The album's opening track, 'Symphony For A Queen', encapsulates that. "It's the show tune of the album," says Buzz proudly. "It's very much about getting the look you want and embodying if no one understands me or if society is pushing against what makes me true and beautiful, then I'm going to do that for myself. That stage is metaphorical, but it's an emotional, imaginary place of going and feeling like you're cheering yourself on. I'm beautiful and perfect here." In pop music in 2026, there are few things more beautiful and perfect than Haute & Freddy. Lose yourselves in the madness”.

It is interested how a lot of former songwriters who were frustrated at not getting credit or being in the shadows are not up front and have their own careers. It takes me to NME and their July interview. One of my favourite sections of the interview is this: “My whole life feels like ’80s Kate Bush,” Buzz says. “There’s no Haute without Kate”. If you have not heard Haute & Freddy, then do make sure that you check out their music:

“Haute & Freddy have come to realise they share a lot of common ground – so much, in fact, that Buzz says they felt “friend embarrassment” for failing to exchange demos sooner. Both grew up making music in church, which provided a solid grounding in live performance, and both loved choral music and Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. (“I am still absolutely spellbound by the synth sounds in his Cats score,” Buzz says today.) The duo’s musical theatre side emerges on ‘Symphony For A Queen’, the baroque opening song from ‘Big Disgrace’. It begins with Buzz singing a crystalline melody over pizzicato strings before the entire song morphs from Broadway ballad into a spangly toe-tapper. Lord Lloyd-Webber would surely approve.

Finding a like-minded partner-in-crime proved invigorating for the duo. “We were just so tired of having to be in a box when we were writing songs,” Shipp says. “So we basically said: ‘Let’s make music without really having a goal. Let’s just play.’ And that gave us the freedom to make whatever we wanted.” As they let their musical imaginations run wild, they also invented the characters of Haute & Freddy and concocted an outlandish backstory. The seed was an old-timey font they were drawn to – “it was very circus flier,” Buzz says – but the idea grew roots when they dropped their debut single, ‘Scantily Clad’, at the end of 2024.

Songs like ‘Dance The Pain Away’ and ‘Shy Girl’ hit so hard because they pulse with palpable emotion. “I have struggled with self-hate for the majority of my life. So many times, I’ve thought it was finally over and then it’ll smack me again: this little tug of depression,” Buzz says. She and Shipp wrote ‘Shy Girl’ as a way of excavating her pain after ‘Scantily Clad’ began to gain traction and Buzz wondered whether being an artist could actually become a viable career. “That song is such a lantern,” she adds. “It’s me saying: ‘Go out there and have fun. Don’t steal your own joy.’”

Perhaps because they combine high-camp visuals with high-impact hooks, Haute & Freddy have already built a fervent queer fanbase. ”With me being queer, I’m not surprised, but I just didn’t know whether that would happen,” Buzz says. “To be honest, I felt like in my [songwriting] career, a lot of my music didn’t resonate with anybody.”

For this reason, their main goal is to keep serving the Royal Court. “It’s crazy having people tell us ‘this song is changing lives’ or ‘the world needs you right now,’” Shipp says, which prompts an “oh my gosh, yes!” from Buzz. ”It still doesn’t feel real that we’re writing songs that people connect to,” she adds. “This whole project has been a huge gift to my life”.

The final interview is from Metal Magazine. Even if I am a new convert to the wonderful world of Haute & Freddy, I can tell that they are going to be making music for so long to come. Big Disgrace got such positive reception. You know there is appetite for more music from them. I will try and see if I can catch them when they play London in November. I really love what they are putting out into the world. Such a compelling and interesting duo:

“Every publication has tagged them as one of the best newcomers and emerging talents of the year, but Michelle Buzz and Lance Shipp have been creating music for a long time now (they have written and co-produced music for the likes of Katy Perry, Kylie Minogue, Britney Spears and Calvin Harris). Both had established careers as songwriters before meeting in Los Angeles, and began writing together simply for fun, without expectations or rules. They soon created the characters of Haute and Freddy, using them as vessels for real-life emotions and a more uninhibited approach to creativity. Their debut single, Scantily Clad, became a viral success on TikTok, followed by tracks including Anti-Superstar, Dance the Pain Away and Shy Girl, which attracted millions of streams and attention from outlets including Rolling Stone, People and SPIN, among others.

Their music combines infectious melodies, bold vocals, ’80s-inspired synths and playful irreverence, something they make sure to translate into their live shows. From the dream of becoming a Showgirl at Heart to the defiant declaration of I Like My People Weird, Haute & Freddy encourage listeners to resist the pressure to fit in and make space for their most authentic selves. At its core, the project is an invitation to embrace difference, have fun and let the inner freak take centre stage. “I don’t know if it’s more about the empowerment of intimacy or the simplicity of letting community soothe the insanity of life right now, but regardless, it’s shamelessly dramatic”, they say of Touch Touch. It comes with a new video directed by Amalia Irons, enriching their already fabulous visual world that feels like life in another time; another possibility.

We spoke to the band a few days before they kicked off the next leg of their sold-out Big Disgrace World Tour, and discussed the freedom they discovered in making Big Disgrace, the ’80s pop and art that shaped their sound, their influences, and the importance of creating spaces where weirdness, self-expression and difference can be celebrated.

Big Disgrace isn’t just an album title: it’s almost a manifesto about embracing what makes you different. Throughout the record you balance escapism with real emotional struggles, and we can identify moments reflecting depression, burnout, longing, identity. You mentioned that you started creating music as Haute & Freddy for fun, but the outcome is impressive beyond the music itself: there’s so much love in it. Did creating the whole record teach you something important about yourselves that you didn’t know before?

Michelle: Creating Big Disgrace definitely taught me to follow the fun and trust myself. I had dealt with the fallout of my previous artist project completely flopping, a songwriting career with ageing credits that weren’t keeping me afloat financially, trying to stay in LA surrounded by colleagues who had hit their stride — I was truly under the impression that a successful career in music was not coming for me. Getting to that point where I made peace with not ‘making it’ in music, I was able to start valuing my own happiness. Haute & Freddy was my version of a giant miniature Lego city in a basement; this hobby fantasy world I couldn’t stop building while I got ready to have a job outside of music. Big Disgrace taught me that magical things happen when you express yourself without thinking about the next step.
Lance: Making Big Disgrace was my confirmation that the universe will reward you for being yourself at all times.

Freaks encapsulates something really interesting: traditionally, marginalised people have reclaimed some of the insults they have historically received and turned them into statements of pride. This song owns the word, and it’s brilliantly brought to life visually in its music video. You worked with Amalia Irons on it (and others), and it reminds me of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. How did the song and the video come about?

Michelle: I love that it’s also a circus term that can now be rebranded instead of being used as an insult. We love taking that kind of terminology – same with “oh, what a big disgrace” – and making it something proud and unashamed. We wrote it in Topanga with Askjell (same collaborator as Sophie, Fields of Versailles, Sweet Surrender) and it was an explosive day. I feel like us and The Rocky Horror Picture Show share a similar approach to poking at conservative hang-ups, so I wanted to honour that through the video as much as possible.

Your album is a balm for the queer community and anyone who feels like they don’t belong. Now that you’re travelling the world, how do you see things in terms of equality? There’s a scary feeling that we’re going backwards and that there is more and more racism and hate present in our daily lives.

Michelle: I feel this a lot; it’s impossible not to. But I will say, going on tour this year to so many different places we had never been before, seeing the big variety of ages in the Royal Court, feeling the kindness in that room, the respect people are having for each other, the joy and self-expression – I don’t know if it’s naive, but it makes me feel like maybe the majority of people in this country really do want things to evolve and make sense.
Lance: I see the world the same way as I always have. Every person is equal. To me, it’s so simple: we all deserve the same opportunity to live freely and not feel like our life is in danger because of the colour of our skin, who we love or how we want to express ourselves. At our shows, that’s the space we want to create, where everyone can feel loved for who they are.

You have written songs for major artists like Katy Perry, Britney Spears, and Kylie Minogue, among many others. And recently Lady Gaga shared your music on her social media. Are there any other artists you’d like to collaborate with?

Gaga would be at the top of our list, we’d love to make a big musical number with her. We’d also love to collaborate with The Last Dinner Party, maybe do a little verse or something”.

Ending with DORK and their five-star review of Big Disgrace. For anyone who has not listened to this album, I would urge you to hear it now. You can feel touches of Lady Gaga, Kate Bush, Tori Amos and others in their work. Though what we get from Haute & Freddy is distinctly theirs. They have this sound and chemistry that is so incredible to behold:

“There was a time when pop stars stalked the pages of the world's greatest music weekly with vamp, vogue and vigour. Haute & Freddy understand that era in their very bones, to the extent that it wouldn't take too much convincing to believe they'd been created by a third wish on an issue of 80s Smash Hits. On 'Big Disgrace' they drag that old glamour into present tense with songs so immediate they can trap the algorithm in amber.

This is theatrical pop with precision and purpose. Not simple dress-up or retro karaoke, and certainly not a stack of dog-eared references hoping to pass for a personality. Haute & Freddy know exactly why 80s pop still works when it works. It is not all shoulder pads and eyeliner, though both are more than fun enough to drag out of the closet. It's because the hooks are headlines and the attitude is doctrine. Style and substance as a manifesto for mischief.

The album moves with the confidence of artists who can frame the canvas as well as paint it. From the first run of songs, it's clear. 'Scantily Clad', 'Shy Girl', 'Anti-Superstar', 'Sophie' and 'Dance The Pain Away' all point to the same core instinct to make pop that performs at full speed without ever losing composure. Each track understands both entry and payoff. There is no meandering between ideas, no apologising for demanding to be massive.

What is striking is how cleanly they manage tone. Camp is all over this record, but handled with utter discipline. The jokes land because the writing is sharp. They flawlessly commit to character and emotion without any sense of irony. That is hard to do. Plenty of artists can be funny. Plenty can be sincere. Very few can be both, fewer still through the lens of massive, honking electropop.

The production is knowingly period-aware, but never a museum exhibit relic. While the lineage is obvious, 'Big Disgrace' isn't ever just played for pure nostalgia. It's a record that studies the greats, then rewrites the blueprints with signature flair. The result is fresh in the only way that matters.

There's a proper narrative arc here that gives the record weight beyond just surface thrill. There's bags of posture, yes, but also a method, too. The temptation with maximalist pop is to keep adding until Marie Kondo is called round to sort out the clutter; Haute & Freddy dodge that trap because they understand subtraction and division, too. They know when to let the drama flow or when a chorus is already doing enough; they know when to leave a song before familiarity turns to exhaustion. Every moment feels deliberate rather than under- or overcooked.

If there is a criticism to make, it is a flattering one. A couple of tracks are so strong that they have their own sense of repeat-play gravity, but that is hardly failure. Momentum stays high, and by the end, the album has the satisfying shape of a debut that already knows what it is.

'Big Disgrace' does not sound like promising first steps; it sounds like a final arrival announced on the ballroom floor. Haute & Freddy have made a record that understands pop as theatre and craft - it preens, struts, poses and leaves enough earworms behind to have Prince Charming stalking the neighbourhood for months. For a record so invested in pose and posture, the real triumph is the simplest trick of all. The songs are undeniable”.

I am going to finish off there. Big Disgrace is one of the albums of this year. From the phenomenal Haute & Freddy, you cannot afford to overlook this U.S. duo. Taking their wonderful music around the world right now, when touring is done, I guess they will be thinking of more new music. Whatever comes next, it is going to be sensational. Go and show your love for…

THIS tremendous Los Angeles duo.

___________

Follow Haute & Freddy

PHOTO CREDIT: Joseph Wasilewski

Official:

https://www.hauteandfreddy.com/

Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/hauteandfreddy

TikTok:

https://www.tiktok.com/@hauteandfreddy

Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/66T34XqGkEWbzKWALSBDuR?si=plt2jsksScGl9fNINRVv9Q

YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLziWUVJ651AEYKkZ8_unfw

FEATURE: Almost Like Being There… Kate Bush’s Before the Dawn Live Album at Ten

FEATURE:

 

 

Almost Like Being There…

Kate Bush’s Before the Dawn Live Album at Ten

__________

NOVEMBER is a month…

PHOTO CREDIT: Ken McKay/Rex Features

where we mark a fair few Kate Bush album anniversaries. One this year involves the live album for 2014’s Before the Dawn. That residency took place at the Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith. The album came out on 25th November. I am going to bring in a couple of reviews for the album. There is this regret that I, and so many others, were not there is 2014 to see Before the Dawn. There has been discussion for years about how good it was. Like it was this life-changing experience! I can believe that. Not that we can go back in time and correct things. There was talk a DVD would come out, though this is not going to happen. Kate Bush not convinced by the sound quality or not wanting it to be released. I am not sure the official reason, but you feel like it was not to her standard. It is a shame, as many would love to see the production. However, the live album does give you a sense of what it was like. The atmosphere in the room. It is wonderfully mixed and produced. One of the best live albums ever. You can sort of project yourself into the album, like you are watching this show happen. Even if it is not quite the same thing as being in the venue, I did get a little bit of the energy and aura of that residency. Before the Dawn is an amazing live album. Upon its release, Before the Dawn reached number four in the U.K. I do want to look in the archives and bring in some stuff I have used in other features. There was a bit of promotion around the live album. FADER spoke with Kate Bush in 2016 around the release of the album:

“You really dug into the archives for your 2014 live shows. How has your relationship with your older material evolved?

Well, part of the decision to do the live shows was because it was such an interesting challenge to work with the two narrative pieces [“The Ninth Wave” and “A Sky of Honey”], rather than just doing a bunch of single tracks.

It was within such a specific context, because [the setlist] was very much put together for a live event. Through that process, the songs naturally evolved because I was working with a band, a lot of whom I never worked with before. I just chose tracks that I wanted to do, that really worked with the band, and to keep it really focused in a rhythmic way.

Although the music was always kept as the lead, I didn't want the visuals to feel separate. What I had hoped was that what had been created was an integrated piece of theater that worked with the music — that it wasn't just music that had theatrics added to it — that there was a real sense of it being something that worked as a whole.

As a performer, do you you get lost in the moment or do you focus on the technical intricacies?

I had to stay really focused as a performer because I'm quite nervous, and I wanted to make sure I was really present when I was performing so that I could try and deliver the character of the song. And actually, the first set was the most difficult part to perform for me, because almost each song is from a completely different place.

Before the 2014 shows you hadn’t toured since 1979. When your return to the stage was so well-received, did you wish you’d done it sooner?

I don't know really. The original show was of the first two albums that I’d made, and I had hoped that to do another show after I had another of two albums’ worth of material. And as I started getting much more involved in the recording process, it took me off into a different path where it was all about trying to make a good album. It became very time-consuming, so I moved into being more of a recording artist. And every time you finish an album, there's the opportunity to make visuals to go with some of the tracks. So I became very involved in that, as well”.

I think that Before the Dawn is one of the best live albums ever. In terms of what was performed, the biggest takeaway was the two suites that she brought together. The Ninth Wave from 1985’s Hounds of Love and A Sky of Honey from 2005’s Aerial. Around these suites, Bush performed other songs from Hounds of Love, in addition to a sprinkling of some from other albums. One of the best inclusions was Among Angels from 2011’s 50 Words for Snow. It was a triumphant stage production. One that has echoed through the years. Kate Bush herself so grateful to everyone who came and showed such warmth. This is what she wrote in the linear notes for Before the Dawn:

“It was an extraordinary experience putting the show together. It was a huge amount of work, a lot of fun and an enormous privilege to work with such an incredibly talented team. This is the audio document. I hope that this can stand alone as a piece of music in its own right and that it can be enjoyed by people who knew nothing about the shows as well as those who were there.
I never expected the overwhelming response of the audiences, every night filling the show with life and excitement. They are there in every beat of the recorded music. Even when you can’t hear them, you can feel them. Nothing at all has been re-recorded or overdubbed on this live album, just two or three sound FX added to help with the atmosphere.
On the first disc the track, Never Be Mine, is the only take that exists, and was recorded when the show was being filmed without an audience. It was cut because the show was too long but is now back in its original position. Everything else runs as was, with only a few edits to help the flow of the music.
On stage, the main feature of The Ninth Wave was a woman lost at sea, floating in the water, projected onto a large oval screen – the idea being that this pre-recorded film was reality. The lead vocals for these sequences were sung live at the time of filming in a deep water tank at Pinewood. A lot of research went into how to mic this vocal. As far as we know it had never been done before. I hoped that the vocals would sound more realistic and emotive by being sung in this difficult environment. (You can see the boom mic in the photo on the back of the booklet. This had to be painted out of every shot in post-production although very little of the boom mic recording was used. The main mic was on the life jacket disguised as an inflator tube!) The rest of the lead vocals on this disc were sung live on stage as part of the dream sequences. The only way to make this story work as an audio piece was to present it more like a radio play and subdue the applause until the last track when the story is over and we are all back in the theatre again with the audience response.
Unlike The Ninth Wave which was about the struggle to stay alive in a dark, terrifying ocean, A Sky Of Honey is about the passing of a summer’s day. The original idea behind this piece was to explore the connection between birdsong and light, and why the light triggers the birds to sing. It begins with a lovely afternoon in golden sunlight, surrounded by birdsong. As night falls, the music slowly builds until the break of dawn.
This show was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been involved in. Thank you to everyone who made it happen and who embraced the process of allowing it to continually evolve”.

I am going to finish up with a couple of reviews for Before the Dawn. I have looked at this album before and discussed its brilliance. It turns ten on 25th November, so it is a big anniversary. It is worth noting how, as UNCUT write in their review, that Before the Dawn is not one single performance captured. It comprises of recordings from throughout the twenty-two dates of the run:

“This allows for the inclusion of a wonderful rehearsal version of “Never Be Mine”, a piece of pastoral ECM restored to the running order after being dropped at the eleventh hour. It appears during Act One, the part of Before The Dawn which most resembles a conventional concert. This is the opening seven-song sequence where Bush ticks off some hits and performs them straight.

The rolling rhythm and quicksilver synthetic pulse of “Running Up That Hill” is beautifully realised, while a rapturous “Hounds Of Love” locates the taut, wolverine snap of the original. She toys with the chorus melody, throwing in a Turner-esque entreaty to “tie me to the mast”, a measured tinkering in keeping with the prevailing musical sensibility. Bush, the ultimate studio artist, opts for faithful reproductions of her oeuvre with just a few twists. Nothing has been re-recorded or overdubbed; presumably there was no need. The band of stellar sessionmen are supple, empathetic and meticulous, as is the Chorus of supporting actors and singers recruited mainly from musical theatre. Among their ranks young Bertie, only 16 at the time, does a remarkably proficient job.

Bush’s voice remains a wonder. These days it’s deeper and huskier, cross-hatched with bluesy ululations and soulful stylings. On the opening “Lily”, she sings like a lioness, drawing sparks from the words “fire” and “darkness” over a thick, plush groove. During a terrifically showbizzy “Top Of The City”, she rises from a serene whisper to a banshee howl. Riding the chimeric reggae of “King Of The Mountain” she transitions from sensuous earth mother to lowering Prospero, summoning the tempest during the tumultuous, drum-heavy, propulsive climax.

This is a key moment in Before The Dawn, a hinge between the straight gig and the theatrics which follow. From now on, listening to the album is sometimes akin to hearing the soundtrack to a film being screened in another room. Act Two, The Ninth Wave, is particularly tricky in this regard. The conceptual suite about a woman lost at sea after a ship sinks lends itself to a sustained visual experience, but has to work harder on record. At Hammersmith, “Hello Earth” was staggeringly operatic, as dramatic and contemporary as any modern staging of The Ring or Parsifal. Here, it is merely – *merely* – a magnificent piece of music.

Similarly, onstage, “Astronomer’s Call”, co-written with novelist David Mitchell and voiced by Kevin Doyle, aka Molesley in Downton Abbey, was a technical necessity, a chance to lay out some slightly clumsy exposition while the stage was being re-set. Arguably, there is no virtue in its being included here aside from historical accuracy. The same is true of a sub-Outnumbered, hammy am-dram domestic skit – “shitty shitty bang bang”, “jellyvision” and all – featuring Bertie McIntosh and Bob Harms. It has been shortened, but should probably have been removed entirely.

At times like these, Before The Dawn is unsure whether it’s a cast recording of a West End musical or a live album. The music, however, is uniformly wonderful. On “Under Ice” the band lock into the song’s oppressive, jagged rhythm, perfectly articulating its chilly claustrophobia. “Waking The Witch” becomes a frantic six-minute soul-funk work-out, stabs of organ and distorted guitar merging over the screams of the Witchmaster, played with terrifying plausibility by Jo Servi. “Jig Of Life” is all flinty Celtic rhythm, with Kevin McAlea – the sole remaining member from Bush’s Tour Of Life band – excelling on the uilleann pipes. After the dark drama of “Hello Earth”, “Morning Fog” arrives like light flooding the room. It’s easeful and organic, burnished with acoustic guitar and accordion. Saved from the sea, Bush has slipped out of character and is restored to herself, murmuring like a newly woken lover. When she softly sings “You know what, I love you better”, the crowd embrace it as an affirmation of their enduring loyalty and cheer wildly. It’s a lovely moment.

The meditative feel holds for the opening part of Act Three, A Sky Of Honey. It’s a more unified piece than The Ninth Wave, the songs eliding seamlessly, allowing for full immersion. The mood is slow, stoned, dream-like. “Prologue”, a ten-minute tour de force dominated by Bush’s rippling piano and John Giblin’s lyrical bass, is lifted by a new, jubilant coda. “Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong/Bring it on, break it down… summer!” Bush sings, harmonising with the peal of distant bells. “An Architect’s Dream” and “Somewhere In Between” are spotlit as slinky, sensuous explorations of the creative connections which occur in the liminal spaces. The sultry “Sunset” climbs towards a rattling flamenco climax, Mino Cinélu’s percussive power pushing the song “all the way up to the top of the night”. As Bush sings in her most headily perfumed purr, the thought occurs that her voice has never sounded better. Her maverick instincts, too, remain on point. On “Aerial Tal” she mimics the song of the blackbird over a new-agey wash of synths.

It all leads to the rising, rhythmic 20-minute climax of “Nocturn” and “Aerial”. Amid bells and birdsong, a new tension informs the music. Over an angry squall of guitar and a heavy artillery of bass and drums, Bush wails about her “beautiful wings” – shades of PJ Harvey here – as the music pushes up and up. It ends with frenzied chanting and what sounds like an explosion. Listeners may imagine Bush disappearing in a puff of smoke; in fact, she was hoisted into the air, black wings and all, airborne at last.

The encores wheel back to the show’s no-concept beginnings. She sings “Among Angels” alone at the piano. Almost unspeakably intimate, it’s a timely reminder that, for all the theatrics, if Bush were ‘just’ a singer she would still be utterly remarkable. This is followed by a celebratory “Cloudbusting” – another of her classics which you suddenly realise you’ve never heard performed live, whether by Bush or anybody else – which sounds like the best kind of circus music. Long and loose, it’s a musical smile, “like the sun coming out”. And then it’s over.

At the start of Before The Dawn, after the rousing crowd response to “Lily”, Bush chirps, “Oh thank you, what a lovely welcome!” She says little else until the end of “Cloudbusting” when, clearly moved, she exclaims, “Oh my God! What a beautiful sight! Look at you all, I will always remember this.” Above all else, the album seems to seek to honour that sentiment, a physical testament to an extraordinary shared moment between artist and audience.

There may be an argument for excising the dramatic interludes, and perhaps even a handful of songs, in favour of something leaner and more sculpted. But that would be to bind Bush to the conventions she has spent an entire career challenging, and to misunderstand the ambition and intention behind Before The Dawn. What we have instead is an exhaustive audio souvenir of a momentous event, simply to remind us – and perhaps Bush, too – that it really did happen after all”.

Let’s finish things with a review from Pitchfork. Laura Snapes provided her take on Before the Dawn. Some might feel that the album is a little polished or not raw enough. In terms of the song selections, some people felt there were omissions. However, the overall feeling is that that residency was stunning. Everyone who was there experienced something that will stay with them forever. I do think that the live album is remarkable. Something that every Kate Bush fan should add to their collection:

“Live albums are meant to capture performers at their rawest and least inhibited, which doesn’t really apply to Before the Dawn. Bush is a noted perfectionist best known for her synthesizer experiments and love of obscure Bulgarian choirs, but her recent work has skewed towards traditional setups that reunite her with the prog community that fostered her early career. With marks to hit and tableaux to paint, the 2014 shows were more War of the Worlds (or an extension of 2011’s Director’s Cut) than Live at Leeds. But never mind balls-out revamps of Bush’s best known songs; with the exception of tracks from Hounds of Love, none of the rest of the setlist had ever been done live—not even on TV, which became Bush’s primary stage after she initially retired from touring. These songs weren’t written to be performed, but internalized. Occupying Bush’s imagination for an hour, and letting it fuse with your own, formed the entirety of the experience. Hearing this aspic-preserved material come to life feels like going to sleep and waking up decades later to see how the world has changed.

“Jig of Life” is the midpoint of Before the Dawn, and its crux. It forms the part in “The Ninth Wave” where Bush’s character is exhausted of fighting against drowning, and decides to succumb to death. A vision of her future self appears, and convinces her to stay alive. “Now is the place where the crossroads meet,” she chants, just as her (then) 56-year-old voice channels her 27-year-old one. Despite her alleged taste for burning one, Bush’s voice has gained in power rather than faded with age. It’s deeper now, and some of the songs’ keys shift to match, but it’s alive and incalculably moving, still capable of agile whoops and tender eroticism, and possesses a newfound authority. When she roars lustily through opener “Lily” and its declaration that “life has blown a great big hole through me,” she sets up the stakes of Before the Dawn’s quest for peace. In Act One, she’s running from the prospect of love on “Hounds of Love” and “Never Be Mine,” and from fame on “King of the Mountain,” where she searches for Elvis with sensual anticipation. She asks for Joan of Arc’s protection on “Joanni,” matching the French visionary’s fearlessness with her own funky diva roar, and sounds as if she could raze the world as she looks down from “Top of the City.”

Rather than deliver a copper-bottomed greatest hits set, Bush reckons with her legacy through what might initially seem like an obscure choice of material. Both Acts Two and Three take place in transcendent thresholds: “The Ninth Wave”’s drowning woman is beset by anxiety and untold pressures, with no idea of where to turn, mirroring the limbo that Bush experienced after 1982’s The Dreaming. That suite’s last song, the cheery “The Morning Fog,” transitions into Aerial’s “Prelude,” all beatific bird call and dawn-light piano. The euphoric, tender “A Sky of Honey” is meant to represent a perfect day from start to finish, filled with family and beautiful imperfections. “Somewhere in Between” finds them atop “the highest hill,” looking out onto a stilling view, and Bush’s eerie jazz ensemble anticipates the liminal peace of Bowie’s Blackstar. “Not one of us would dare to break the silence,” she sings. “Oh how we have longed for something that would make us feel so… somewhere in between.”

Purgatory has become heaven, and in the narrative Bush constructs through her setlist, “A Sky of Honey” represents the grown-up, domestic happiness that staves off the youthful fears explored on Hounds of Love. For her final song, she closes with a rendition of “Cloudbusting,” a song about living with the memory of a forbidden love, which is even more glorious for all the hope that it’s accumulated in the past 30-odd years. Bush’s recent life as a “reclusive” mother is often used to undermine her, to “prove” she was the kook that sexist critics had pegged her as all along. These performances and this record are a generous reveal of why she’s chosen to retreat, where Bush shows she won’t disturb her hard-won peace to sustain the myth of the troubled artistic genius. Between the dangerous waters of “The Ninth Wave” and the celestial heavens of “A Sky of Honey,” Before the Dawn demystifies what we’ve fetishized in her absence. Without draining her magic, it lets Bush exist back down on Earth”.

I am going to leave things there. The wonderful Before the Dawn turns ten on 25th November. Such a tremendous album that I love listening to, I wonder how Kate Bush reflects on the 2014 residency. What her feelings are now. Whether we will ever see her on the stage again. It would be something if she did do something else live. If that is a one-off or a few dates. Perhaps you had to be there to get a true sense of how transformative and effecting Before the Dawn was. Though, listening to the album, you can get a what it was like being…

IN the Eventim Apollo.