Category Archives: New Release Reviews

New Release Reviews

Modesty Blaise – Melancholia (25th Anniversary Remaster)

When it comes to harmony rich, densely textured, beautifully orchestrated pop music of a bright, warm, and luminous complexity, then the Beach Boys are arguably at the top of that ‘sunshine pop’ tree. It is a musical character that has never fully bloomed beyond its founders even though many have either tried to fully adopt it (Sagittarius, The Association, The Left Banke) or at least absorb it into their work as an influence (ELO, Teenage Fanclub, The High Llamas). What happens on even fewer occasions is the re-discovering of a Sunshine Pop classic that neither got its deserved amount of recognition in its time nor a gathering momentum of positive re-appraisal in the intervening years. We have that very thing here though, an album displaying a bold ambition and a taste for grand designs, sounding indisputably like it was built by a group of sonic architects who had the musical talents to pull such a bold scheme off effectively. So, prepare yourself to be amazed by Modesty Blaise and their expanded, three-disc, 25th anniversary edition of 2001 lost golden nugget, ‘Melancholia.’ Now, before we get into the back story though, there is a huge amount of music to be heard here so, should this band be a new name and you are unsure whether to continue, let me briefly describe how this album begins.

The intro is just over a minute of a piece called ‘Chorale,’ which is exactly how it describes, a gentle vocal assemblage of wordless, intoning voices of a solemn persuasion which step back to allow elegant strings admission before rising drums tentatively usher in an explosion of magnificently edifying pop splendour on ‘Carol Mountain.’ Extending to six minutes, this is orchestral, sophisticated, and melodic perfection in song. Deceptively simple and cohesive, it just packs so much into one tune; sumptuous verses and a significant chorus lift, glorious string arrangements, vocal breaks with potent harmonic variations, intervals built for cinematic effect, clearly defined central variations plus flawless opening and closing passages. It is quite simply a modern pop classic in the most relevant, to that term, sense and I go further by stating, if it were delivered from the hand of Brian Wilson, it would ride high as one of his best works. And this is only the beginning because ‘Melancholia’ is a musical opus boasting song suites, motif reprisals and unifying grand concept but what do we know of its creators?

Modesty Blaise – Photo by Gregory Jones

Modesty Blaise rose out of Bristol’s fertile indie‑pop scene having formed in 1993 by singer‑guitarist Jonny Collins and bassist David W. Brown, playing their first gig at The Mauretania in Bristol. A debut single, ‘Christina Terrace,’ came out in 1994 as a limited‑edition 7-inch produced by Edwyn Collins, guaranteeing collectable status by selling out just as local radio and television appearances gave a handy push. Further exposure, like inclusion in several end‑of‑year lists, cemented their name as a hot Bristol proposition. They grew a reputation for lavish, harmony‑rich arrangements influenced by sixties pop classicists and, in terms of access to a deserved mainstream pop audience, supporting Robbie Williams at London’s O2 Arena must have felt like an encouraging step. A Rough Trade compilation appearance, an ITV documentary centring on Jonny Collins and an ambitious BBC Radio session involving seventeen musicians kept the momentum moving. In 2001 with ‘Melancholia,’ they created the kind of work usually decorated with words like ‘masterpiece,’ which must have added to the frustration at its lack of availability in recent years. “For quite a while, people have been asking us why our biggest album wasn’t available to stream” recalled Jonny Collins. “We decided that, if we were going to do it, we’d do it properly. The remastering process was really interesting. The point was to reveal extra detail within the songs.”

Acknowledging their music was of a far more layered grain, Jonny added that “it’s been a longstanding thing within Modesty Blaise that, not only do we throw the kitchen sink in, we break in next door, rip out their sink, and throw that in too. But modern mastering has brought more clarity; we’re really happy with it.” They have certainly taken advantage of the space offered by three discs, especially on the ‘[de] Construction’ set that pulls out isolated instruments and vocal parts from the mixing desk, a process that few records truly warrant but there is so much buried audio treasure here the deep dive is, for once, a justified and rewarding indulgence. The third disc presents different single mixes and versions which again, given the progressions on an album essentially built around the pop song format, is another invaluable addition. There are bound to be times when the zippier versions heard here are all that is required.

Considering the self-confessed inclination to develop indefinitely in the studio, it is still noticeable how totally devoid of filler this album is. Even the tracks where three songs are built into one do not feel over long, despite looking like a marathon on paper. One of these is the suite ‘Old Woman – My Life Before You Came – Swivel Chair’ which shows the same capacity for realizing a vision as McCartney on ‘Abbey Road’s’ side two. There are delightful prog touches too, nothing cumbersome, more like the flighty current of Caravan as washes of keys and mellotron sound enhance the conclusion. ‘Even In My Darkest Hour’ also has a triumphant coda, where any one of the swirling keyboards, the ghostly theremin noise or the homely horn refrain would have been enough to make it a beguiling ending, but they throw all three in anyway. Our epic journey approaches its close on the thirteen-plus minute ‘The Love Suite,’ a bold creation that once again has a bit of everything but, crucially, it is everything you want. Brass, massive choruses, guitars freaking out, a united vision and an ecstatic shout to the top, it all serves to leave us totally overwhelmed by our stimulated senses, delighted, delirious and hungry for more in equal measure. Music this fully loaded with ideas doesn’t stay under the radar indefinitely, and with ‘Melancholia,’ Modesty Blaise look ready to claim the attention they have long deserved.

Danny Neill

Find out more about Modesty Blaise and how to purchase ‘Melancholia’ here: https://modestyblaiseuk.bandcamp.com/

Modesty Blaise – Photo by Gregory Jones
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New Release Reviews

Various – Something For The Longing (Scottish Independent Pop 1985-1999)

Ever since Elvis Costello, carving out a Jools Holland‑style TV‑presenter niche in the early 21st century, declared the 1980s “the decade that taste forgot,” it has almost been treated as fact. And while there are solid musical reasons not to revere the eighties the way we do the three decades before it, what is often overlooked is that it was the last time an underground scene truly meant something: alive with creativity, resistance, and a genuine DIY spirit invisible to the yuppies feeding their soulless numbers game. Punk had opened the doors to independence in the late seventies, and its ripples travelled far beyond the UK. In America they had the college‑radio circuit, with R.E.M. and their jangling brethren pushing back against the MTV onslaught. Simultaneously, by the mid‑eighties in England, “Indie” was becoming more than freedom from corporate control; it was becoming a sound. The Smiths may have defined it first: British guitar pop that used the instrument as a symbol of detached cool rather than phallic posturing. But as the movement gathered momentum, it increasingly felt like Scotland was where the real action was. North of the border, a musical fightback was brewing against expensive videos overshadowing songs, against synths draining the heart from the art form and in favour of rescuing beloved retro sounds from the scrap heap. And as this expansive three‑disc, 67-track set on Cherry Red Records, covering the final fifteen years of the century proves, there was far more to this movement than mere geography or Byrds‑influenced twelve‑string twee guitar pop.

We launch straight in with Jesus And Mary Chain from their 1985 debut LP with ‘You Trip Me Up.’ That is the sound of two worlds colliding right there. The C86 cassette from the following year may have captured the spirit of the scene, as well as some of its sixties influences but it did not impress on us the innovations some of these acts were instigating. The collision of aggressive feedback and classic girl-group pop melodies had not been heard before and for a time, the Mary Chain were as notorious as an act like Bob Vylan has become today. Nevertheless, this was more about music than attention seeking (even though the headlines the Reid brothers generated gave the pop landscape a welcome shot) and with the energy, attitude and pop-punk exuberance of The Shop Assistants up next, maybe this shows more the expected vibe for this collection; but nothing is quite so predictable on an engagingly curated set. The Soup Dragons sound feyer here than the indie-dance pioneers they are more widely remembered as and the same goes for Primal Scream. They are represented by ‘Gentle Tuesday,’ its golden chiming guitar solo showing just how expressive they were before beats and trippy remixes briefly took over. Still, the best finds come from names that have drifted from the conversation over time. The Motorcycle Boy are a good example of this, their ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’ has alluring rockabilly style guitar phrases that deserved to push them (indie) chart bound.

The Jasmine Minks

The Big Gun take this thread further still; in fact, they had a member called Andrew O’Hagan whose semi-autobiographical memoirs about his time in the band were adapted into a BBC TV series. His group found strength in potent chorus repetition on ‘Heard About Love’ as do The Thieves on ‘Talk Your Head Off,’ although these hooks display more introspection. The fruity organ is pretty tasty too. Revolving Paint Dream celebrate the thrill of jingle-jangle riffage and happy surprises abound, like with The Jasmine Minks whose ‘Cut Me Deep’ is a strong contender for hit status in that parallel universe where all is right and just in the hit parade. Baby Lemonade have similar vim, their Syd Barrett referencing name being the only detail pointing to a psychedelic aesthetic. The Vaselines, who were later covered by Nirvana, offload exciting, trashy rock ‘n’ roll filth on ‘Teenage Superstar’ which is also the clearest pointer yet to the Velvet Underground’s quiet influence on large parts of this scene. And well-done Dawson for making a song called ‘Noel Edmunds’ that, even if the neatly bearded presenter were still radio broadcasting in 1989, he would not have been able to play his mainstream audience no matter how his ego may desperately have wanted to.

This is where the assumed story takes a lesser told turning, as bands like Fenn, Spirea X and The Fizzbombs push the harder, grey and industrial tones into the red reminding us that minor key guitar abuse is the sound of the eighties every bit as much as tinny synths and gated-reverb drums. Returning back to brighter guitars for disc two we launch with one of the C86 aligned, Sarah Records mainstay bands, The Orchids. Their ‘Something For The Longing’ is a distant cousin of R.E.M.s ‘King Of Birds’ (no bad thing) whilst The Wendy’s ‘Enjoy The Things You Fear’ recalls the nonchalance of indie-scene adjacent Lloyd Cole. Despite these reference points, the Pearlfishers ‘Sacred’ is arguably the purest period pop sound to be found here. The gospel-tinged lift in the chorus still hits with the same force it did thirty-five years ago. BMX Bandits ‘Serious Drugs’ resonates with the times too, as long at the times are 1992. This was the kind of festival hit that belonged to the indie culture and felt like an anthem. The sleevenotes actually informed us that it could have been a lot more successful had its release not coincided with ‘drugs awareness week.’ Still, the little George Harrison guitar punctuations are a charming nod and wink to a time when indelicate drug references in pop songs were almost obligatory.

BMX Bandits

The BMX Bandits Joe McAlinden did go on to get slightly more recognition (thanks to Rod Stewart covering one of his songs) and acclaim with his band Superstar who were signed to Creation Records. The track included here, ‘Don’t Wanna Die,’ does point to a far grander psychedelic pop and lush soft rock ambition lurking in the margins of the early nineties. Still, Dick Johnson stumbling in like the Cramps for ‘Disposable Darling’ also shows that the opposite also held true as some favoured unpolished, primitive energy. The compilation now hits a sequence revisiting the angular jerkiness of Whirling Pig Dervish then the chirp laced choppy guitar of Lung Leg. The Stanleys frantic craving precedes post-punk angst from Glue before Spare Snare’s trashcan scuzz. All these serve to highlight the enduring impression that these largely uncelebrated bands have left on so many familiarly arch guitar outfits of the present day. Moving on, Pink Kross barge in sounding like spiky haired psychobilly’s intent on elbowing anyone looking too bookish out of the way before Lugworm warn “better watch your back” in ‘Sweaty Says.’ I kept thinking they were referring to a certain disgraced and deceased BBC DJ but cannot find anything substantiating this, so it must just be my ears deceiving me.

This set is packed with highlights and more than a few buried jewels. The Poison Sisters ‘Chicane’ rocks a fat one with a crash-landing chorus and it is evident that, despite undeniable vintage influences, most of the recording here are the work of forward thinkers, not revivalists. That said, Luci Baines Band’s ‘Find A Lil Love’ is pure seventies good time rock but no less deserving of a 2026 resurrection. Arab Strap usher in, as we reach disc three, a late nineties golden age in which Aidan Moffat’s poetic kitchen sink reflections add a lyrical depth to the scene. The Delgados became darlings of the country thanks to their influential Chemikal Underground label, and their own John Peel endorsed boy / girl wistfulness; here though it is a more abrasive velvet fabric that is honoured on ‘Monica Webster.’ Today Belle And Sebastian’s ‘Lazy Line Painter Jane’ sounds like a solid gold indie pop classic with that yearning “last bus out of town” chorus but their commitment to the wider cause was full and detailed. For example, here was a band that properly honoured a trope, that by the nineties was often talked up but not as strictly observed as you might believe, of not putting single and EP tracks on albums. That was the case with this 1997 EP track, and I can still recall the delight as Belle And Sebastian fans organised their voting enough to shock the industry at the Brit Awards denying Steps a gong: a rare example of good music winning the day.

Belle And Sebastian

There are many more reacquaintances to indulge in too. Huckleberry are astonishing here, their lively dream‑pop melodies spinning effortlessly; then the booklet reminds me this was an early vehicle for James Yorkston, and suddenly everything clicks into place. The song ‘Three-Speed Wilfred’ was an unreleased 1999 recording so if there is not already enough inducement to check out this collection, you can add previously unheard tracks to the reasons too. Lovely to hear from King Creosote also, whose Fence Collective was an important turn of the century breeding ground. It also moved in parallel geographic strands to the ever-spectacular Beta Band, represented here by ‘Inner Meet Me’ from 1998. We close with a 1999 cut from Mogwai, one of an all too small number of bands featured who spectacularly broke out beyond the regions from which they arose. But to place too much importance on that misses the point, this celebration has never been about mass appeal. It has been a glorious carousel ride through an age defined by artistic momentum, single-minded character, and a belief in everything music can still do; a reminder that the tools of the trade remain basic, attainable, and utterly relevant. There is plenty here ripe for revival but set aside the big talk: ‘Something For The Longing’ is made for the finer feelings and asks for no wider stage. It stands as essential testimony to how the Scottish DIY movement struck gold with remarkable regularity.

Danny Neill

Get yourself a copy of ‘Something For The Longing’ here: https://amzn.to/42o06Hh

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New Release Reviews

Hannah Lew – Hannah Lew

This self-titled debut album may well be the most out-and-out pop record I have written about on these pages this year but, as is so often the case with pop I love both new and old, it arrives from the hand of an artist with a broader range of musical reference in her armoury. Even the front cover points to a deconstructionist approach, with Hannah’s face printed, ripped up and re-assembled in a way that reflects the methodology of the music. And yet, still we have ended up with an album not just front but absolutely fully loaded with electro leaning, propulsive bangers. It is just that the option to listen deep is equally as valid as putting this on whilst doing the washing up. Take ‘Another Twilight,’ if you do not hear that pulsating disco intro and immediately think of Lipps Inc (other than you are probably a lot younger than me) be sure to go and check out ‘Funky Town’ next, but laced with the melancholia of a chorus that sings “it’s all over baby and I don’t mind, in decline, I take my time” this is actually the better track. ‘Replica’ is similarly poptastic, it reminds a little of Future Islands at their punchiest but for all the connections one might be inclined to draw, this music is watermarked with Hannah’s individualistic brush strokes. There is the ache of the personal too, with Lew referring to this track specifically in stating “when you have true love in your life it’s easier to name false love and this song is largely about recognizing a fraudulent love, heartbreaking as it is.”

Hannah Lew’s creative path has long threaded through some of the most distinctive corners of the American independent music world, first as a member of Grass Widow and later with Cold Beat, before arriving at a moment that feels wholly her own. Her new self‑titled album for Night School Records marks the first time she has stepped forward under her own name, embracing a vivid strain of pop that walks the line between depth and feel-good release. Written and shaped between her home in Richmond, California and sessions at The Best House in Oakland with Maryam Qudus, the record draws energy from a circle of West Coast collaborators who help bring its bright contours into focus. ‘Damaged Melody’ is a notable example of this, the way an initial conveyor belt of wide-open industrial electronics suddenly explodes with showers of falling space dust and urgent rhythm is sheer sonic splendour. The album opens with ‘Time Wasted’ and it is here where subtle echoes of her previous musical adventures can be heard. There is definitely an element of the post punk to the bass line that drives this pot boiler along but nevertheless, it is the expanding synth scape that dominates all the way.

Though echoes of her earlier projects remain, the album moves with a clarity of intention that signals a fresh chapter, foregrounding a vocal approach that highlights the emotional tension woven through her melodies. In fact, that unsettled stress is twisted into focus on ‘Move In Silence’ which mentions a war outside, just out of view. Hannah takes the metaphor further when talking about the track, saying that this is “a wartime album” which sadly, is literally true today. No wonder the follow up song, ‘Distance Of The Moon,’ seems to give rise to thoughts of escape into the stars. It heralds the arrival of the albums darkest detour, right at the close, where the rough textures of minor key guitars suddenly push to the forefront. She resists the opportunity to push distortion even further on closer ‘The Clock’ which has the structure of a Jesus And Mary Chain epic minus the feedback. This was indisputably the right choice, for although the songs balance buoyancy with unease, capturing a sense of wonder even as they reflect the fractured moment in which they were made, a pop aesthetic prevails throughout. With mastering by Sarah Register sharpening every detail, this collection presents Lew as an artist confidently carving out new territory while acknowledging the lineage that brought her here. More than that though, it is an album overflowing with potential for continued space explorations of a thrilling nature waiting for us in the future. What a great beginning.

Danny Neill

Get a vinyl copy of the album via this link: https://amzn.to/41QeTu9

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New Release Reviews

Ella Clayton – Could It Be You?

It can sometimes feel that an artist stating they were aiming for a warm analogue sound has lost its impact with chronic overuse. There is actually an important ideal at the roots of an ambition like that, but such is the ubiquity of the claim it has almost become shorthand for non-electronic music. But if the meaning is lost to some then please allow me to point you in the direction of this new sophomore release by East London singer-songwriter Ella Clayton. Yes, she has declared the natural live sound of musicians playing together in a room, vibing off each other and responding to feelings in the moment as her intent, but you know from the very first listen that she also understood what this meant in practice. There is a looseness to the grooves, not an everybody must get stoned lethargy but a connectedness, like the music is untethered and free to flow exactly how the main narrator wishes to steer it. There are stops, moments where the emoting is given space to be felt just as there are fevered flourishes of exhilaration and vigour. I mean the recipe is almost so basic that there is a danger in over intellectualisation; the simple rule for realising that warm analogue sound is just play your music, feel it, live it, breathe it and if you are good at what you do, the magic will appear. By ensuring all the rhythm tracks were laid down live, Ella Clayton guaranteed she had the best natural canvas to unlock precisely what her music needed to do.

Essentially what I am describing is a soulfulness and within her singer-songwriter template, Ella surely has moved into a soul-folk lane that is not always so easy to access. And if real soul is to be attained in music it helps if the artist is pouring something of themselves into the grooves, which it seems Ella actually is as the singer herself confides with this assessment. “This record is a journey through longing and self-interrogation, the search for something or someone outside of myself to tell me who I am and what I want. I hope that people recognise themselves in these snapshots from my life and take comfort in the shared experience.” Opener ‘Please Me’ wastes no time in making a case for Ella as soul diva, the tumbling dice of the vocal raining down at the end of each verse tells us we are in the realms of tracks possessing a heart wrenching, late sixties southern soul distinction. The lyric is holding out for something real as it also does on ‘Mouth Said Money,’ about a manager whose promises never transposed to real life, demonstrating too that Ella has range that can meet with grungier flavours. She even stretches her voice to its boundaries, happy for some imperfections to shine. Let it be noted here though that there is no lack of light, hope and even amusement amidst the frustrations expressed. The title track especially, whilst set up as a meditation on longing and the search for companionship, still manages to tell the story of a first date that went comically wrong.

“I trace the lines of the Dolomites and you curse the day I was born” Ella sings on ‘Dolomites,’ a track that begins as an icy waltz before erupting into an explosion of frustration at the denial of a space to be alone, brilliantly executed it is too. ‘Ripples In Bedsheets’ is the folkiest sound we have heard thus far, and the weight of the lyric welcomes a dynamic string arrangement, again all for the good of the song but I come back again to that Clayton voice as the centrepiece of all that is profound in these numbers. She is fearless in her letting go, even on a more becalmed number such as this, when Ella goes route one and lets her voice convey the feeling, she really soars. ‘I Miss Strangers’ can be added to the overflowing well of 2020’s songs inspired by lockdown and the absence of fresh human interaction, but it earns its place at the table with a nice boxed in guitar hook and a lyric born out of genuine distress. ‘Rain All Day’ mournfully misses someone lost with a more forgiving thought, gorgeously demonstrating too the power in a well written middle eight. Expanding her range further still, there is a soothing country lilt to ‘October Trip’ before ‘Seagull Song’ arrives with the easy lift of a sea breeze until ‘Tell Me Something’ brings a little sombre violin to the table. It transpires that this tranquil three song suite is tactfully sequenced as a set up for the return of Ella’s lolling, soulful folk free form truth seeking on spectacular extended finale ‘As You Are.’ Before playing out to the most satisfying of closing instrumental breaks, we hear Ella celebrating the warmth of love, platonic as much as romantic, felt with the most intensity in moments of mundane everyday life. It is a fine place to end because firstly, you are hungry for more but secondly, it cleverly wraps the essence of deferential respect for the unexpected tangents in life as mirrored by the unplanned diversions heard in this music. So, I come back to where we started, by admiring how Ella Clayton is effortlessly attaining an honest integrity to her work that many declare an ambition for but far fewer actually realise. The sound on ‘Could It Be You?’ is music creation that is wholly uninhibited to be what it feels, that is free to be true.

Danny Neill

Get your order in for ‘Could It Be You?’ here: https://amzn.to/4cpGIja

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New Release Reviews

ESYA – Chasing Desire

ESYA is the name of a new project from Savages bassist Ayşe Hassan launching with this debut album, ‘Chasing Desire,’ a work that revs with the energy of the new whilst building on the experience of the past. After three exploratory EPs and the dissolution of Savages, Hassan uses this record to rebuild her musical identity from the ground up, merging her silken‑force bass work with synths, electronics, and programmed beats that map the contours of a turbulent personal period. The album also captures a return to Hassan’s DIY roots despite years spent touring the world, as she learns an entirely new setup in pursuit of a sound that projects honest vulnerability and a potency for self‑invention. It is so much more than an audio vehicle too for surrounding the release, Hassan is staging a series of ‘Chasing Desire’exhibitions across the UK, inviting listeners into the machinery of the album; from private listening stations to hands‑on synth experimentation, even offering space for visitors to record their own “Desire Transmission,” a growing archive of confessions that will feed into a future ESYA release.

The album begins with ‘Fallen,’ the deep throb of a heavy synth bedrock evoking an imposing, urban landscape where the pulse of human life is fighting against the darkness where “the sun has disappeared.” Ayşe sings with a pain that will pierce you and this is an opening more than hinting at the trauma we might encounter on the journey ahead. But there is a flip side to this, because for all the intensity of the electronic sound there is still something quite warm here. This is electronica rising from other planets, swirling in a melange of molten lava and bursting with colour; in other words, there is beauty emanating from this chilling terrain pointing to brief flashes of clarity amidst the uncertainty. ‘Take My All’ has a touch of chaos that somehow manages to hold together, which might have been exactly the effect Hassan was seeking. She remembers it like this. “Because I was still learning, I decided to embrace the imperfections. I love music where there is that awkwardness and tension and something that’s not right but that I can resonate with.” And she was determined to hit her post-Savages phase with fearlessness, retaining the bass from her past life but otherwise diving into previously untested waters, even singing was a step in a new direction. One thing Brian Eno used to do to shake a band up in the studio was get them all to swap instruments, I sense a similar approach has resulted in some refreshingly bold sounds and textures on ‘Chasing Desire.’

The blank canvass approach and its freedom to explore ideas really inject these tracks with added depth and variety. Something like ‘Wandering’ wrong foots, beginning in broken down ballad territory, before the icy grind of industrial sound pushes the pace into a metronomic space, even though Hassan holds down the personal, whisper in the ear aspect of emoting, leading to an unexpected mix of the frosty and personable. The singing voice Ayşe has uncorked for ESYA is a less than conventional instrument too. She literally plays it like an audio tool on certain tunes, mixing the vocal in a way that marries it to the instrumentation rather than leading it. But then on the title track, with its repeated “I don’t want to be a lover” refrain, she really pushes the character in her delivery to the forefront, properly owning the space as a lead vocalist and allowing every atom of vulnerability and fallibility to bleed through. ‘Heaven’ is easily one of the most accessible tunes to be found here and a major stand-out track for sure. The collision of a cut that is daring you not to dance to it and a lyric about the anxiety of retreating from a difficult situation make for an abrasive yet exhilarating combination. It is like Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ was produced by Scott Walker (yes that good). A similar effect is heard on ‘Lullaby’ which is anything but berceuse, more like a ghost in the machine. These contrasts co-exist to perfection all the way across ‘Chasing Desires,’ one never threatening to overwhelm the other, a satisfying fusion of tension and release. This is a work overflowing with wonder at the endless possibilities in experimental music and considering the raw material Ayşe Hassan is collecting to move the ESYA endeavour forward, this promises to be a vehicle we would be wise to keep an eye on.

Danny Neill

Get yourself a copy of ‘Chasing Desire’ via this link: https://amzn.to/4cV7mjT

ESYA by Neeq Serene
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New Release Reviews

Galvezton – Ocean Cabaret

‘Ocean Cabaret’ is the name of a mysterious, abandoned strip club in Galveston, Texas and the album that has taken its name for a title sounds very apt. In the same way that you would imagine the location feeling alive with the ghosts of salacious encounters, spilled emotions and frustrated desires, so too the music Galvezton presents on this sophomore release is alive with real life residue, the vintage textures shaken down by modern tropes, a sense of style and swagger standing up for the values that modern life can so easily suppress. The heritage behind the musical journey of the creative core in this act, Robert Kuhn, is rich with iconic Americana singer-songwriters, names like Bob Dylan, Townes Van Zandt and Bruce Springsteen, all of whom filtered into the young Kuhn’s subconscious via the tastes of his father. But post pandemic, the Galvezton project has evolved naturally into a territory that the mere troubadour characterisation can no longer contain. This is a helter skelter dive into a cosmic-Americana sound that is dizzy with the heat and punch drunk on ideas and expression. Recorded over the span of 2022 to 2024 at La Izquierda, the album carries a restorative warmth, wrapping you up and steadying the pulse. Kuhn’s voice can fray at the edges, but like some aforementioned primary influences, this vocal facet can lend to a delivery with unfiltered force.

The La Izquierda location in Galveston is significant because it also founded a longboard surf competition and music festival that Kuhn is heavily involved in. There is a grassroots and community focused, non-profit ethos to many of the local projects he is connected to and that humanitarian, social activist energy does bleed into the music; not to mention a certain surfer-dude breezy coastal calm up front as well. You can taste that vibe on ‘Origami,’ the music feeling like it is the ocean waves that are breathing it into life. The echo and the calm that rises up as Kuhn dreams “what if there was a place that we could go to, what if there was a way to get there, what if I surrender?” It reminds me a little of the War On Drugs, the synth textures casting a spell over the track that evokes space and a never-ending horizon mirroring the relentless questions in our narrator’s mind. But it is also raw and organic in its own way, the heavy strum of acoustic guitar and harmonicas that blow in from the margins welding a human touch to the ambience.

The essence of Springsteen in his ‘Nebraska’ mode is tangible, ‘Tonight’ being an example of a fine track built on this classic framework. ‘Me And You’ is so hazy it might only exist in a dream whilst you feel the heat coming from ‘Paved Roads’ so intensely you wonder if your feet are burning. ‘Quint’s Cantina’ on the other hand is pumping with motion, punched piano chords and fuzz guitar decorating Kuhn’s stream of lyrical testimony. All that said though, it might just be that the superb ‘Roll To G Town’ is the hook track enticing a lot of listeners in to check out this album. The song, the sound of one battered man determined to bounce back off the ropes, albeit via a pathway that is no less perilous than from where he came, is alive with attitude, self-deprecation, and verve. It is like Beck has returned to the nineties and decided he has no issue with being a loser after all. And everything is in place, the peacocking groove, and semi-rapped verses that sound like a bar raconteur not too under the influence but well on the way, then a killer sing-along chorus. Great song and to paraphrase the lyric, you too should take your money and roll to the ‘Ocean Cabaret.’ You could do a lot worse than high loading your musical life with this rough little diamond of a new release.

Danny Neill

Find out more on Galvezton here: https://www.galvezton.com/

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New Release Reviews

Green-House – Hinterlands

This is a new album that is setting a high bar for anyone pursuing an interest in electronically enhanced, ambient leaning, instrumental music in 2026. Both styles, which lean heavily on found sounds and long form, untethered excursions can so easily descend into tedium for, in much the same way that a primitive painter can argue the apparent amateurishness of their work is a statement in itself, when the structure is unrestricted by a tighter framework the motivation to push for something inspiring and unexpected over route-one indulgence can sometimes be lost. I mention this because at first glance, this album might come across as belonging in a floaty, ambient realm. But I would caution against that sweeping judgement, just as I would say do not listen to this record casually, for built in these deep bubbles that rise into the air before bursting to rain their colourful sonics asunder, are oceans of beauty and exploration. Much like the early Kraftwerk or Tonto’s Expanding Head Band, when the human touch is imprinted tight over subtle, textured music like this, when the playing field has room for both synthesised sound and organic, responsive traditional instrumentation, then whole new worlds of audio delight can be discovered.

‘Hinterlands’ is the third LP from Green‑House and it finds Olive Ardizoni and Michael Flanagan stepping into their fullest, most expansive form yet; a record that feels bigger than two people, brimming with kaleidoscopic guitar lines, bubbling synth tessellations, and an orchestral glow that seems to breathe of its own accord. Sequenced as a journey from sea to mountains to somewhere more abstract and fantastical, it deepens the duo’s long‑running fascination with the meeting point between human nature and the natural world. Their process, layering frequencies and expressions like camouflage, begins with either artist, Ardizoni often gravitating toward melody while Flanagan shapes the harmonic architecture; the magic lies in how their ideas fuse into a single, layered vision, creating a depth far greater than the sum of its parts. Since 2020, through a string of acclaimed releases on the scene‑defining Los Angeles imprint Leaving Records, Green‑House have pursued a curiosity in environments and the emotional resonances they hold. Now, with this latest release arriving on new label home Ghostly International, they unveil a refined evolution of their sound: a fluid, genre‑defying fusion of ambient, folk, synth‑pop, environmental music, IDM, and modern classical that feels both meticulously crafted and tangibly alive.

Of the music Olive Ardizoni says “this record is us letting go a little bit, giving ourselves the freedom to just write and see what happens, to let the music grow naturally. We try to utilize what’s right in front of us, just being in an urban environment and making do with what’s there in order to continue to foster that connection we have to the natural world.” The visual world surrounding ‘Hinterlands’ began with Ardizoni and Scott Tenefrancia capturing tiny scenes from trips through Yosemite and the Inyo National Forest, later enlarged by Flanagan through close‑focus photography that turned droplets of water into miniature viewing portals. The result is an artwork that mirrors the record’s own balancing act between the earthy and the electronic: small universes built from careful layering and imaginative interplay. Green‑House frame this album as a kind of hopeful, free‑flowing electronic pastoral; music shaped by ideas of ecological vibrancy, mutual dependence, and a belief in joy as a radical stance. At a time when environmental collapse and political fatigue colour so much of daily life, the duo suggests that envisioning alternative futures is itself a meaningful gesture. That spirit runs through the tracklist: ‘Dragline Silk’ unfurls with a slow‑burn grandeur reminiscent of Pink Floyd’s progressive rock, though the pair cite Jessica Pratt’s recent work as its spark; the three‑part ‘Hinterland’ suite roams from airy, exploratory passages to more reflective, star‑lit terrain. Later, ‘Under the Oak’ drifts in with a hushed, uncanny stillness, followed by the even softer ‘Bronze Age,’ before ‘Valley Of Blue’ closes the arc in a wistful haze of synthetic strings and oboe, originally nicknamed after a Final Fantasy memory. Flecks of sorrow surface throughout this otherwise luminous record, quiet acknowledgments of the anxieties that shadow our awe, from disappearing coastlines to fragile ecosystems. Green‑House meet those tensions with warmth and clear‑eyed purpose, serving us a musical odyssey that feels both tender and resolute.

Danny Neill

Get yourself a copy of ‘Hinterlands’ here: https://amzn.to/4tjeFaU

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New Release Reviews

Eggs On Mars – Good Morning (I Love You)

Do you remember the story John Lennon used to tell about meeting Yoko Ono for the first time, where he continued viewing the whole of her 1966 art show because his first encounter was the word ‘yes’ through a magnifying glass, hooking him simply because it said something positive? Well, I kind of felt the same encouragement with the title of this Eggs On Mars record, before even hearing a note of music. After all, the messaging firing out of the US on a daily basis is hardly the most cheering right now so maybe I found it a refreshing reminder that there is plenty of warmth, emotion, and humanity alive in the rolling immensity of the interior West. This collective from Kansas City, Missouri are working in a gently off‑kilter lane of soft psychedelics and vintage flavoured garage pop, theirs is a fragile yet solid grain of Midwestern guitar music that wears its affection for sixties pop classicism and the nineties indie guitar scene proudly out front whilst resisting the pull of pastiche in favour of music that is expressively their own. The band put it very concisely themselves actually, that is Brad Smith on guitar and vocals, Doug Bybee on bass and vocals, Mason Potter on drums and Joel Stratton on guitar and keys; they say that “through our Midwestern lens we try to summon the sound of The Monkees if they were chosen over the Velvet Underground to be Warhol’s Factory band.” Which, as fanciful as that may sound, does kind of nail what is going on here.

Eggs On Mars do have a pop aesthetic, albeit it one that any actual pop pickers of the 2026 hit parades would no doubt describe as retro, alongside a healthy appreciation of audio fineries like lush chord changes and irresistible melodic pathways; they also carve out plenty of breathing room on their sonic palate. Their music feels the vibrations of the living, it responds to the natural contortions of the elements and is sensitive to the rise and fall of the sun, it is almost like they can feel the planet rotating beneath their feet. And having thrown all these ingredients into a kaleidoscopic melting pot, they stir up curdling waves of music that can hum with that very same mesmeric, hazy buzz that the Velvets would loop and evolve to beat their downtown, avant-garde Warhol audience into submission. Ultimately though, the Eggs On Mars fuse all these influences and references into music that, at its core, pays considered respect to the craft of songwriting and when you get stuck in to ‘Good Morning (I Love You),’ it instantly becomes evident that there are some seriously potent songs on this record.

Album opener ‘Inconsistent Cowpoke’ sets the stall out, establishing a high bar from the outset. The verses are melancholy, sung in a weary voice that sounds as beaten down and trod upon as the lyrics suggest, but the chorus offers a glimmer of light and by the songs close, a cloudburst coda brings the welcome taste of relief flying in on a bullet of sharp electric guitar flight, the music holding our hands as it lifts us out of the doldrums. The title track has a springtime promise in its narrators loving relationship contentment, but we are not entering quite the syrupy territory the title suggests, for the song reveals frustration at the humdrum of everyday commitments perpetually bursting the blissful bubble. The guitar solo that plays out the tune is both richly phrased and a little forlorn, whilst found sound in the shape of heavily populated crowd chatter hints at the inspiration behind this number. ‘Be For You’ has a tender piano break which pre-faces a soaring guitar solo taking it to the end; I am summoning up all the music writer energy I can muster not to make a George Harrison comparison here but I have to admit defeat, there is a Beatle-esque splendour to the way an equally rousing song is concluded. The snowdrop piano trills that introduce ‘Couldn’t Write’ do not prepare you for the majesty of major / minor changes that underpin the loved-up joy felt in the lyric. Four songs in and it is becoming clear that Eggs On Mars may not actually peak here, every song pushes the gains of the previous offerings and advances them. And there are a few characteristics emerging, as the ringing jangle of electric guitars chime ‘Couldn’t Write’ to its end, their love of an energised finale is beyond doubt.

‘Shooting Stars’ enters with the most up front rhythmic momentum we have heard thus far and once again, a wonderfully rendered tune is positively launched into space with its incredible chorus line elevation. The spaceman float of the unbound, tuneful guitar lick that closes this song, conjuring visions of its title, clears room for the cavernous echo in the guitar sound that ushers in ‘That’s Alright.’ This is a song that highlights one of the understated strengths within the Eggs On Mars armoury. Each sung chorus begins with a combined vocal of “oooh” and, as restrained and occasionally diffident as they may appear, the singing in this band adds another subtle layer of nuance to these deceptively fragile songs. ‘Takes Time’ enters with their clearest sixties pop guitar riffing yet; still, the necessary vigour found here is more than matched by the bands ability to execute with conviction. ‘And I Know’ perfects the Byrds-y chime to maximum satisfaction (plus un-self-conscious spoken interlude) and ‘Frame To Frame’ sticks to a charming, delicate pace. Finally, ‘I Came Home 2 Find Nothing Had Changed Except Me’ pins a resigned reflection on to a warm guitar line. So, is there anything to dislike here? Not for me. The whole ten-song suite is over and done in 27 minutes and personally, I could happily have stayed for the same distance again. But when you get the job done to perfection as Eggs On Mars have done here, why elaborate for the sake of it? Here’s hoping more ears find their way to this record, and that it soon sheds its under‑the‑radar status to claim the gleaming little treasure spot its quality has already earned.

Danny Neill

Get yourself a copy of the latest Eggs On Mars album via this link: https://eggsonmars.bandcamp.com/album/good-morning-i-love-you

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New Release Reviews

John Craigie – I Swam Here

There are certain artists for whom their USP is nothing more attention grabbing than they are excellent musicians, singers and writers simply getting on with the job of refining and honouring their craft. John Craigie is all three of the above and without hitting anyone over the head with gimmicks, he continues to amass a following thanks to just being very, very good at what he does. Today that means nine critically lauded studio albums, three live recordings and a series of covers collections, including 2025’s ‘Lonely Revolver,’ a full-show rendition of The Beatles’ ‘Revolver’ which he engagingly (sgt) peppers with history, and stories told between each beloved song. Craigie’s music resonates far beyond the studio, with sold-out solo and full-band tours across the North America, Europe, and Australia, show-stopping performances at annual gatherings like Newport Folk Festival, Pickathon, Edmonton Folk Festival, and High Sierra Music Festival. With this latest record of new material already available, the news is good for John remains indisputably on the same evolving role we have enjoyed over the last decade and if I tell you ‘I Swam Here’ is a more reflective offering than before, fear not; this is mindfulness that loses none of Craigie’s trademark panache. Recording sessions took in an initial batch of sessions in New Orleans where John played a nylon stringed acoustic guitar as his lead instrument for the first time on record. It appears that, with the tone established from the outset, the singer and his musician pals were able to follow through and realise the creation of a John Craigie album like no other.

The album enters with the gentle picking of ‘Mermaid Weather’ and you immediately feel like handing over the wheel to this audio captain. It may well be minimal and the verses breeze in like gentle waves, but there in those decorative little flourishes, the brush strokes of percussion that somehow coast with purpose and the bar-room piano fills which quietly rain down like pure water, are the flashes of transmutation that elevate Craigie’s music from mere anecdotal confession into the realms of majestic. ‘Fire Season’ has the hazy lilt once mastered by Beachwood Sparks and indeed the fire of the title is felt in that Laurel Canyon style warmth of the music. This was one of the earliest pieces written for the album and its themes of perseverance and dedication to craftsmanship were clearly followed up on from this launch pad. In fact, much like Bob Dylan’s ‘Blood On The Tracks,’ where much of the album was re-recorded in a second round of sessions because the singer did not feel the materials essence had been captured first time around, so too did John have to take another run at some songs on ‘I Swam Here.’

The man himself explains that “there were two separate recording sessions in two separate locations with different musicians. This is because after New Orleans, three of the ten songs did not meet my vision, and it was not realistic to get back to New Orleans to re-record based on everyone’s schedule. The intention in the mixing is to not have the listener able to tell which ones were recorded where; but it’s possible some attentive ears will be able to.” On ‘Whispers’ John, as a soft harmonium sound anchors his freefall at the close, cascades to the refrain “I’ll follow your whispers all the way down” before a cymbal wash snuffs out the light. ‘Edna Strange’ has the wild frontier echo of a spaghetti western and it is here, on a Marty Robbins inspired song, that John’s vintage guitar sound really feels like the optimum choice of expressive instrument. The words are mighty fine too, stand out lines in this particular story song including the pin-sharp, “she wore no wedding ring, but I wasn’t blind, I saw the mark where it’d been.”

I have been a fan of Craigie’s for a few years now and one aspect of his work in which he excelled was a rich, dry and witty, finely honed lyrical bent that had more than a hint of prime Dylan about it. On this record though the Bob comparisons are not served up quite so readily but, if you consider how Craigie has co-ordinated a wholesale style and tone shift for this record whilst remaining unmistakable himself, then maybe that is the biggest proof of a Zimmerman-like pedigree of all. ‘Dry Land’ points a finger of blame in the direction of terra firma as the breezy music looks to the sea under a sky alive with ringing pedal steels and melodic keys. The uniformity of sound continues on ‘Call Me A Bullet,’ this one growing irresistibly into its undeniable refrain. ‘Claws’ is a slight departure, the muddy guitar sound and general swampy vibe recalling some of Daniel Lanois’ production work from thirty odd years ago. ‘Mama I Should Call’ plays service to some classic country ballad tropes, including the satisfying counterbalance of a male-female joint vocal in the chorus parts, but that Mexican shuffle is pretty special too. Penultimate ‘I Remember Nothing’ is a glorious tumble into echoey climes crashlanding into ‘Don’t Let Me Run Away,’ where John sounds like he is singing from the bottom of a valley, mournful wind instrumentation evoking a nostalgic reverie and the shuffling brushes of the rhythm suggesting our man has wandered off into the sunset. Hope within this forlorn close can be found there in the title; John may have drifted out for a season of meditation, but his spirit remains, and he will return to carry this journey ever onwards; and long may he continue to do just that as I am very much on this deep, musically thrilling ride too.

Danny Neill

Get a copy of the album today via this link: https://amzn.to/4cB2ctf

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New Release Reviews

Various – Eternal Journey, The Arrangements & Productions Of Charles Stepney

Talk about let the music do the talking, even in this tastefully curated tribute collection to Charles Stepney the man himself is nowhere to be seen, at least in a visual sense. Even his words are scarce, the new Ace Records sets extensive liner notes highlighting that the producer only had one interview, a two-page spread in Downbeat, published and by 1976 he was dead at the age of forty-five due to a heart attack. Apparently on that day he had spoken to Earth Wind And Fire’s Maurice White about a song they had written in tribute to Stepney called ‘Spirit’ but all the same, this hardly equates to the kind of accolades the architect of the sounds heard across these twenty tracks should have enjoyed and deserved to receive. It is clear that as an eloquent arranger and a producer with a natural, musicians feel for what a song needed to fire up its heart and soul, he was level with Quincey Jones or George Martin. But as the accompanying text frustratedly notes, Stepney was not a rock architect who died too young at the peak of his powers and, for reasons that will probably never be fully understood, engine room craftsmen in the soul, funk and jazz-fusion fields did not get the kind of multi-page Mojo and Rolling Stone appreciations that their, often far less musically talented, heavy blues-rock or prog rock contemporaries enjoyed.  

There have also been a lack of compilations of this type in Stepney’s honour over the years, even this has been in the pipeline for ten years and required some determined unblocking along the way to bring it to fruition. The end product does justify the effort and perseverance though, and it does, even with a roll call of artists that gather up iconic names in blues, rock ‘n’ roll, jazz, gospel and soul, highlight a signature Stepney sound. All these tracks are blessed with lush, orchestral arrangements that are both advanced in their technical range and simultaneously devoid of any classical formal pose or pretension. In essence, they are packed with soul and most pull off the clever trick, that only few can truly master, of seeming devastatingly simple whilst possessing a deep, subtle complexity. There is also a timelessness which is creditable because, we are exclusively operating in the late part of the sixties and first half of the seventies and the latter, in particular, can possess a sound easily age identified. But these Stepney productions, many of which were hot finds for crate diggers in the nineties and beyond, sound completely at home in the contemporary picture. This will be in part down to their frequent use as samples from artists as disparate as Gang Starr and A Tribe Called Quest right up to DJ Shadow, The Roots and The Boards Of Canada; but it might also be true to say that the best recordings always do wear an agelessness about them.

Charles Stepney enjoyed his biggest success with Maurice White’s Kalimba Productions alongside other studio creations that became big hits, especially Deniece Williams number one ‘Free.’ Still, there is so much more and here we get to sample albums he participated in which maybe, in their time, were not regarded as overachieving but have since gone on to become cult collectors’ classics. 1968’s Cadet Concept album ‘Electric Mud’ by Muddy Waters was a record idea of Marshall Chess’s to take the blues legend out of his comfort zone and be someone else a while, for no other reason than it could be a gas. Whilst there are some who might believe Muddy was badly represented on this one-off, there is nothing about that smirking man in robes and sandals in a photo from the cover shoot that is not entering the spirit of the project. And the music, especially the cover of the Rolling Stones ‘Let’s Spend The Night Together’ that features here, is as raw, dirty, and downright sexy as any you will find, even by the writers themselves. The similar project from the same period that they tempted Howlin’ Wolf into, from which the artists disinterest really was beyond doubt, did not hit quite the same mark. The re-worked ‘Smokestack Lightning’ included here, whilst having nothing wrong with the seedy, nighttime production, does not come close to the originals thunderous tremors but it does stand as firm evidence of Stepney’s vivid inventive mind.

Also in 1968, although released in 1969, Stepney worked with jazz pianist Ramsey Lewis on an instant response to the Beatles newly released ‘The White Album.’ Literally in the space of a month, they put together ‘Mother Nature’s Son’ from which ‘Dear Prudence’ is the opening track on ‘Eternal Journey.’ It is a great place to begin because the slow build of the arrangement gives us listeners an instant display of the myriad colours available to Charles’ pallet. Texture, groove, dramatic rise and fall before glorious sunburst resolution, it is all here in an action-packed piano jazz instrumental. Soul classics from the period that stand out are Minnie Ripprton’s ‘Les Fleur,’ a piece of music that appears in the cultural audio landscape so regularly now it almost feels like a modern piece. The same can almost be said of Marlena Shaw’s ‘California Soul’ from her 1969 ‘The Spice Of Life’ album on Cadet. Re-set in this context, you do have to sit back and appreciate what a vital role the strings and orchestra play in this production, so much more than decorative backing, with that opening rousing riff they are basically a lead instrument. And then there are the symphonic psychedelics of The Rotary Connection, the interracial collective Marshall Chess had Stepney’s magic touch specifically in mind for. Just listen to their ‘Teach Me How To Fly’ soul fans, this is how it should be done. Not just soul, not merely harmonious vocalising, or symphonic production but music, you play this and it is so undeniable in its punch and power that you have to say that this is how you do music. And furthermore, this is how you do a respectful audio tribute to an immense talent for whom such a testimony has been long overdue.

Danny Neill

Get a copy of the album here: https://amzn.to/41nkCrg

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