'Heretic'—Peach Milk
Auckland electronic music producer Peach Milk has just released her EP ‘Finally’. ‘Heretic’, the second track, combines swelling soundscapes with frantic, crisp percussion, and disembodied vocals. The track opens with a slow, rising hum. As it builds, the phased ambience reminds me of the opening of mid-eighties Cure tracks, tense and ready to break apart at any moment. But ‘Heretic’ never fully splits apart, crunching and grinding are comfortably juxtaposed with layers and layers of smooth synths. Listening I feel compelled to move at the same time as I am content to sit and let the music wash over me. There is something symphonic about the way parts interact in this song, something cohesive and complicated and utterly confident. Here’s hoping Peach Milk finds her way to Dunedin sometime in the near future.
'Marked for Death'—Emma Ruth Rundle
Emma Ruth Rundle (Marriages, The Nocturnes, Red Sparowes) is an L.A songwriter, ‘Marked for Death’ is the title track from her third solo album. The impact of this track is hideous, keeping me torn between ecstasy and discomfort. It opens with slow, thrumming guitar and sparse percussion, slipping in and out of clarity before it arrives at the huge, breathtaking chorus. Rundle’s voice is like nothing else, when she sings I picture thick, heavy spools of velvet spilling endlessly across dark wooden floors. She creeps across her vocal parts so that she is almost one with the mournful cello that decorates the desolate guitars. This song is timeless, a chaotic gathering of parts dragging themselves towards the climactic and cinematic chorus. When you’re in this song it feels as though there is no way out. Rundle is an exceptionally talented songwriter and when I eventually stop listening to ‘Marked for Death’ I will be sure to throw myself into the rest of her material.
‘Melbourne’—Street Chant
Auckland band Street Chant’s ‘Melbourne’ is undoubtedly one of the best releases of 2016. Sitting right near the end of their album ‘Hauora’, ‘Melbourne’ show cases Street Chant’s peculiar ability to be simultaneously tender and snide, disenfranchised punk and unashamedly melodic. It is rhythmic and pulsing, with sweet guitar hooks echoing the repeated refrain “if it’s not over this time then it won’t ever be”, a line too compelling not to sing along to. There is an urgency to ‘Melbourne’, and a deep sense of melancholy. Perhaps this is heightened by Silver Scrolls nominated songwriter, guitarist and vocalist Emily Littler’s comments on the gruelling writing and recording process. Like most of Street Chant’s work, the listener isn’t allowed to get too comfortable, the tenderness shattered by Littler drawling mid-song, “yeah you’re gonna miss me when you’re feeling ugly”. If you haven’t already, I suggest you get with aqquainted with Street Chant’s back catalogue before they are in Dunedin later this year for what might be their last tour for a while.