Ironically, when we know nothing about a new artist more words are taken up in attempting to emphasise just how unreasonably anonymous this new artist is than would otherwise be taken up going through the usual names/locations/background/bicep size routine. And even more ironically, even more space has been taken up by pointing out this illogical state of affairs. Perhaps we should all just calm down and listen to some music.
The reason I mention this all is Circa Waves, for though the prospect of having no inane background information on which to hang vague musical comparisons is enough to confound most music journalists, with Circa Waves the music is so packed with character that the job is far less intimidating. Take any of the three scuzzy demos currently dominating his Soundcloud; they’re all brilliantly imperfect and raw anthems just waiting to be compared to My Bloody Valentine or The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, but also bursting with their own slightly unique feelings.
Perhaps that’s why the solo Liverpudlian finds himself on the A-list of Amazing Radio with just a feature in Bido Lito! magazine written about him. There certainly is an intangible quality about his music, something that’s impossible to quite put your finger on, but quite obviously sets him apart from the thousands of other Sonic Youth influenced new bands. And though its hardly the most progressive music this side of Actress, you might find it tough to care, because although originality can be exciting, it’s not entirely necessary. At the very least, nostalgia done well can be just as satisfying, and there’s more than enough of that packed within Circa Waves’ current three demos to make both ideas of originality and information seem regressive themselves.
There’s not much to complain about when it comes to Death At Sea. In fact, it’s tough not to agree with the grounded analysis of Bido Lito!, who recently claimed that the band were the best band they’d heard in a long time and predicted that they “will blow a hole in Liverpool’s unsuspecting music community”. Before you’ve heard their two available tracks that may seem like an almost hyperbolic claim. But afterwards, well, it would probably be more controversial to suggest that the Pope is a Catholic (and he almost definitely is).
They’ve got the visceral, gritty appeal of Yuck, but filtered until the sound is slightly purer and more intoxicating, topped up with the yearning drawl of Tokyo Police Club. More importantly, in Kinsella they’ve got a passionate and intensely charismatic front-man, and in “Sea Foam Green” they’ve penned a regrettably rare song; one that simultaneously nails being evocative and poignant, and has a melancholic hook that just makes it impossible not to give in to them. A sturdy beginning, to say the least.
Apparently you will soon be able to catch Death At Sea playing their songs around Liverpool, which will definitely not be one to miss. Not being unafraid of hyperbole as I am, I don’t mind suggesting that it could even be one of those “I was there” moments.
Being a music journalist has always seemed like an unbelievably illogical career path to me, because presumably you would only choose to become one if you loved music, yet, surely to anybody who loves music, the idea of being forced to continuously listen to and pick over an album that you have a real hatred for is something close to Guantanamo Bay levels of torture (not that I’ve been and know what goes down there). And then there’s also the point that you get paid less than a well organised busker, and that whole crisis of people virtually stopping buying physical media. But mostly the first point.
So it should say a lot that I was effectively cling filmed to my chair and forced to write about Loved Ones, and I can still proudly say that, two months down the line, our relationship has grown to a level of maturity where I can safely say that I love them. As you can tell, this is quite an emotional blog post for me.
But it shouldn’t be too tough for you to press play on the two incredibly diverse tracks below and understand exactly why I’m so head over heels for this band. For what it’s worth, ‘Hell’ is a magnificent 5 minutes of eccentrically pitched vocals that worm their way into the brain, laid bare upon tribal beats, pulsating electronics, and the warm glow of the most subtle guitars. It’s the least blatantly beautiful song you’ll hear this year, but take half an hour, batter that play button, and it will become one of the favourites of the year too. It really is something special. And if that sounds like a fawning testimony to you, then you’ll be shocked to hear that I actually am even more taken with ‘Mossman’. But I’ll spare you the graphic details, because you’d probably just hit the big X in disgust, so just take advantage of the fact that this is the internet, mentally tell me to shut up, and listen to the proof for yourself.
PS – if you’d like to find out more about Loved Ones then read the article on them that I was ‘forced’ to write for Bido Lito!, it’s got all that background story and all of that that people apparently love. It can be found in this issue, on page 12.
PPS – ‘Hell’ will be available to download on 12th November on Giant Haystacks, which, if my quick research is correct, is the same subsidiary of Label Fandango that released The Heartbreaks’ first single.
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