FEATURE: Her Deal with Gods: Kate Bush and the Spiritual Divine

FEATURE:

 

 

Her Deal with Gods

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in a promotional image for 2011’s Director’s Cut

 

Kate Bush and the Spiritual Divine

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IT is not a revelation…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1983 (recreating the cover of Depeche Mode’s 1982 album, A Broken Frame)/PHOTO CREDIT: Brian Griffin

to say that Kate Bush has woven spirituality and religion through her music. There are cases of Bush’s putting God(s) and religion through her music. If you think about her most famous song, Running Up That Hill. Originally called A Deal with God, it was ridiculously changed because it was feared that the title would cause offense. That it was blasphemous somehow. Now, there would not be a hesitation putting out a song with ‘God’ in the title. However, Bush’s song was not insulting or blasphemous. Indeed, she was doing a deal with God. That men and women could swap places and know what the other was going through. Share the experience, as it were! Bush was raised as a Roman Catholic and although her music is not especially devout or religious in tone, faith and spirituality has been a part of her music from the very beginning. That compromise with Running Up That Hill. Bush was told that at least ten countries would not play the song if it was called A Deal with God. It was one of the few compromises she had to make for the sake of her career. Bush has said that when she was younger she felt like she was on a mission from God. That music was really her calling and she had a bigger purpose. I will explore different sides of Bush’s spirituality and creative curiosity. How she is someone who is very spiritual and compassionate yet is not necessarily tied to one viewpoint or belief. Someone who has in fact woven aspects of different religions through her music. Although Bush was raised in a Roman Catholic household, she didn’t feel that the Church was the right fit for her. Although Bush has mentioned God in her music and in interviews now and then, I think that Bush’s music is her attempt to become more complete and understanding. That is what you get from Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). Bush using that plea. An opportunity to speak with God and do a deal. In a larger sense, it is about understanding and making humans more empathetic. Spirituality has clearly been a big part of Kate Bush’s life.

This creativity was a way of filling an emptiness. That mission from God. Rather than her literally doing her own deal with God or there being this religious destiny, I think Bush did feel that her creative drive and love of music was connected to religion. She has said how Breathing was a case of something working through her. She observed: “When I was writing it, it felt like: Hang on, I don't think I'm writing this–this is a bit too good for me! Rather than the song being my creation, I was a vehicle for something that was coming through me”. I want to widen this out and think of Bush in spiritual terms. Even though her Roman Catholic upbringing gave her a sense of destiny and drive – and she felt God working through her for some songs -, you can also feel Bush embracing multiple faiths. Consider the fact that she put the words “Om mani padme” in The Kick Inside’s Strange Phenomena. It is part of a Sanskrit mantra that is central to Tibetan Buddhism. It is associated with Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. Bush has expressed interest in several spiritual paths and throughout her life. These include astrology, the paranormal, and New Age beliefs. There is no one path or option that has struck her hardest. In an interview with Q from 1999, Bush remarked the following: “People who create feel a great empty sense of hunger, a feeling of emptiness in life. And by being able to create, you can somehow express yourself in a way that maybe you can't in the ordinary realms of life...so many people are looking for God...In your creativity there can be quite deep attitudes, and I think it's got to be linked somehow with the subconscious that you're tapping into”. If it is not necessarily spirituality that Bush projects and promotes, it is a curiosity for things bigger than us. The unknown.

I have written about this before. How ghosts, mythical creatures and oddities are fascinating to Bush. Ghosts and spirits especially have been the subject of several of her songs, from Wuthering Heights to Get Out of My House. A Yeti or mythical creature in Wild Man. The afterlife and Heaven coming into Blow Away (For Bill) from Never for Ever. I see a lot of spiritual and religious influence through Hounds of Love. The Ninth Wave where the heroine is lost at sea and struggles to stay alive. Moments where she is floating above the water or a sense she is watching from high above to the sea. Maybe trying back to Bush’s upbringing. If she has not explicitly aligned herself to one religion or is a particularly religious writer, one can see God, the spiritual and the divine in nearly all of her albums. Bush has noted that there’s a lot of suffering in Roman Catholicism. ”You hear that in “Running,” the quiet desperation to its sound, a yearning that seems like it has just about given up hope, much like Max” (Max Mayfield is played by Sadie Sink on the Netflix show, Stranger Things). I did cover this in 2020. However, rather than repeat that feature, I wanted to look more about spirituality. This love and compassion for multiple faiths. How many other artists have done this in their career? It can be quite divisive if you put religion or faith in your music. Bush never does it explicitly or overtly. There are sprinklings here and there. This feature asked if Bush was a Rosicrucian (Rosicrucianism is a spiritual and cultural movement that arose in early modern Europe in the early 17th century after the publication of several texts announcing to the world a new esoteric order):

Is she actually a lifelong Rosicrucian? I could make a list fifty items long. Her appeal crosses age, gender, taste; she’s taken on a quite distinct mythic life in our collective dreaming. People who would usually have nothing to do with mainstream rock music (like Rushton) are smitten. She has a huge gay following (queer pagans, radical faeries). Ex-punks and one-time surly troublemakers line up to hymn her praises, when not so long ago she would have been the very model of everything they professed to despise, what with her taste for fuzzy ‘spirituality’ – ley lines, yetis, orgone energy – and tendency towards heavy concept albums. (One side of Aerial has both a Prelude and a Prologue.)”.

One of my favourite aspects of Kate Bush’s writing is how she can write personally and about universal feelings but also go beyond that. To a more spiritual plain. Bush has said how she believes in angels. Although she could have been referring to angelic people, 50 Words for Snow’s Among Angels offers these lines: “I can see angels around you/They shimmer like mirrors in summer”. I am going to move on, though I want to refer to Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) one more time. This feature offered a spiritual perspective on the song’s video:

The chorus has the power of a mantra which I bet many of you found yourself repeating incessantly, switching roles with the singer only to realize by the end of the song that you too made a deal with God.

A deal with God, in this case, represents a karmic soul contract between Kate and her lover which would allow them to attain a better understanding of each other.

The scenes in which Kate Bush dances with Michael Hervieu seem to take place in an aesthetically pleasing purgatory. A place not of this realm, in between lives. That is why both of them are dressed in gray, to emphasize their lack of earthly individuality. The dance is a visual representation of how the “swapping of places” occurs. Both of them are wearing hakamas, a traditional Japanese garment worn by samurais, a detail which emphasizes through the garment’s symbolism that the pact is official.

In my view, the deal with God is already made, and the video shows not only the symbiosis between the two but also her confusion and fear when she’s swept away by the current of her and his potentialities getting ready for incarnation. By that moment she doesn’t know who she is. She can’t recognize herself in her energy, represented by the extras that wear masks of her and neither in his energy, represented by the men wearing masks of Hervieu”.

 IN THIS PHOTO: Katre Bush shot for The Ninth Wave (the conceptual suite on the second side of 1985’s Hounds of Love)/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

One cannot escape a certain divinity and spirituality running through The Ninth Wave. I always think of that suite as less about human survival and strength and this being more like a woman experiencing death and a rebirth: “Kate Bush experiences a death and rebirth, though hers is in the water. According to Carl Jung, water symbolizes the subconscious mind into which one must descend before aspiring to the heights of enlightenment. In dreams, the conscious mind fights the pull of water, just as Bush does. Like the subjects of Jung's analysis who though "spirit" comes from above, Bush is disturbed to be in the midst of the water, "the fluid of the instinct-driven body, blood and the flowing of blood, the odor of the beast, carnality heavy with passion." For Bush, the water is another vehicle for an introspective ordeal”. Maybe, and not in a corny way, Bush’s greatest intrigue is other people. Faith in other people. The human spirit. Whilst Bush does look beyond our world and one can summon fairies, ghosts, spirits and mythical beasts, one of Bush’s greatest strengths is empathy and compassion. Not only a positive writer who promotes the joys and understanding of people. Such empathy and love. The more I have been researching around Kate Bush, religion and spirituality, the more I realise how positive that aspect is. When Martin Glover (Youth) saw Bush during her Before the Dawn residency in 2014, he made some interesting observations. Glover played on Hounds of Love and is Bush’s friend. He wrote about her Shivaism, Dionysian and Druid philosophy:

Opening with Lily was a clue …This song lyrically is an explicit magical ceremony, a literal invocation/initiation, in the style of the Rosicurician Orders, à la the Golden Dawn school of the western magical tradition. “Gabriel is before me, Raphael behind me ….. In the circle of fire”.

This is key to understanding Kate. She has her own cult, her own mystery school tradition. Her unique strand of Shivaism, Dionysian and Druid philosophy, loosely wrapped up in a song and dance tradition. It’s part magical realism, overt nature spirituality and art house ….( Hard to pull off in cynical, post modern narcissistic Britain).

She not only pulled that rabbit out of that hat but also managed to convert each and every one of us to her own personal church of the big sky….a church whose priests are owls, ravens, trees and clouds.
When asked once who her favourite singers were, she replied “Nightingale, Blackbird and Thrush” There is a barrenness in religions today, whether in Christianity, Islam or false prophet new age gurus, humanity is rudderless, bedazzled by materialism. Kate’s communion with nature is the antidote, it is a call to joy, a celebration of the sublime ….it’s about the intoxication of love and the ecstasy that follows… is where wisdom lies, hidden deep within its mystical and poetic roots.

Kate’s “Religion” is the tiny spark of light that defeats the dark forces that seek dominion over the natural world, it’s tooth and claw and blood on the floor …She exemplifies English pagan beauty. A dark timelessness and stillness surrounds her wild abandonment, whilst her voice charges at you like Boudicca returned, riding a golden chariot of weird melody, harmony and bitter dissonance.

Shape shifting her artistry, she played with archetypes. She can access our primordial memory, when we were fish and birds. Her voice, a vehicle for multiple characters. She invokes the triple goddess. Athena, virginal, sensual innocence. Aphrodite, loaded with sexual power or Nimue, motherly, nurturing and “oh so tender ” and finally the Hag, Raven seer.Hecate, Queen of the witches, the dark half of the moon. Terrifying Kali the Crone or Macha in a frenzy, unleashing the furies upon us. All this choreographed into one ritualised, magical, shock and awe vision of an imagined future, all in one performance…..Very elemental, light and shade, earth and fire”.

When promoting Director’s Cut in 2011, Bush spoke with Sinéad Gleeson for the Irish Times. A promotional image of her dressed in what looked like a Tibetan dress and necklace (see the first image in this feature). Maybe a nod to Buddhism. When Bush visited Japan in June 1978, she was seen “attending a Shinto shrine and (apparently) conducting herself with characteristic etiquette”. There is a whole chapter to be written about Bush’s connection to or reference of various faiths and cultures. Her Roman Catholic faith (whether lapsed or strong) and how a sense of spiritual curiosity sets her aside from other artists. Religion and spirituality can be heard through her early work. On Symphony in Blue from 1978’s Lionheart: “When that feeling of meaninglessness sets in/Go blowing my mind on God/The light in the dark, with the neon arms”. Bush’s music has refers to purgatory, Heaven and Hell. She has also incorporated biblical references into some of her songs. I love the more unusual aspects of Bush’s music. How Waking the Witch (from Hounds of Love’s The Ninth Wave) is about Bush's interest in witch hunting and how she believes the practice is rooted in sexism. Bush’s love of all faiths and people. How substantial Tibetan themes can be heard on 2011’s 50 Words for Snow. Bush posted a note to her website in November 2011 for the Tibetan people. A non-political artist, Bush’s exploration of various faiths and spiritual alternatives always intrigues me. It makes her music so much richer and wide-reaching. Someone whose faith and compassion for people is matched her respect for various religions and practices. I will leave things there. A side of Bush’s character and writing that I have been thinking about a lot recently, I do hope someone writes more fully (and authoritatively) than me when it comes to Kate Bush and spirituality. Religion and faith through her music. Going beyond those realms and investigating the paranormal and mythical. Someone whose mind is open to the inexplicable or unexplained. Rooted in all of this is her compassion for people. A fascination of humans. A big reason why Bush is so loved and revered. It is not a coincidence that her most-streamed song, Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God), is about this burning desire to do a deal with a deity. If two lovers could swap places or be in each other’s shoes, they would have a better understanding. It goes beyond that and speaks to people in general. More tolerance and understanding. So many examples of Bush searching for harmony, connection and empathy through her music. And when it comes to experiences, that is…

AN one worth having!

FEATURE: Feels So Different: Sinéad O'Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got at Thirty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

Feels So Different

 

Sinéad O'Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got at Thirty-Five

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FOR this feature…

IN THIS PHOTO: Sinead O'Connor performs on Saturday Night Live on 29th September, 1990/PHOTO CREDIT: Alan Singer/NBCU Photo Bank/Getty Images

I am marking the upcoming thirty-fifth anniversary of the late Sinéad O'Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. The second studio album from the Irish icon, it was released on 20th March, 1990. The album was nominated for four Grammy Awards in 1991, including Record of the Year, Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, and Best Music Video, Short Form for Nothing Compares 2 U. I want to get to some reviews and retrospective features about this phenomenal album. I am starting out with this feature from 2023 that states, on her second studio album, Sinéad O'Connor communicated the truth:

When Sinéad O’Connor released her second album, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, in 1990, I was 15. Although too young to really understand it, the album was unlike anything I had ever heard.

Her death on July 26 at 56 brought back those early first impressions. As a teen, this album felt shocking. It left an indelible mark on how I perceived music. Through her voice, I found music could be much more than about love, hate, and relationships strewn across sets of lyrics, a bridge and a chorus. O’Connor was trying to actually say something. What it was I wasn’t sure, but I knew enough to realize she was misunderstood, that her basic freedoms and rights were under attack. Singing was how she communicated her feelings. Her courage in creating such an honest and personal album taught me that it’s OK to speak up even when you think no one is listening, even when others don’t agree.

After years of listening to a broad cross-section of radio hits—groups like Tears For Fears, Wham!, the Pet Shop Boys, Phil Collins, the Beatles; female pop artists like Janet Jackson, Blondie, and Madonna, and “alternative” music like the Clash—O’Connor intrigued me. I was enthralled by her vocals on “I Want Your (Hands On Me)” and the acrobatic way she skewed and bent her words.

She was nothing like her female contemporaries on MTV who were splashed across Teen Beat magazine. Cyndi Lauper was kitschy and colorful and fun. Madonna courted controversy, yes, but made infectious dance and pop hits channeled through provocative images based on sexual desires. Stevie Nicks seemed surrounded by a mystical shroud, while Joan Jett was just one of the guys.

O’Connor shaved her head and wore plain, drab clothes. When she performed, she gesticulated wildly as if possessed. She was not a material girl at all. I needed to know more.

The opening track of I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, “Feel So Different,” set the tone and established her unique, bold style and unabashedly laid out powerful convictions. When I heard her bare voice set against the swirling strings of an orchestra on the opener, I never felt so alone. O’Connor stretched out words like “so” and “different” until hearing it became nearly uncomfortable. Whatever she was going through, it was massive.

As I listened, I began to understand how these songs were highly provocative for the time as well as steeped in Ireland’s history. “I Am Stretched On Your Grave” is based off a 17th century Irish poem “Táim sínte ar do thuama” from this compilation; in the passage “From the Cold Sod That’s O’er You,” the writer never “severs” from the dirt that lays over their loved one. The mental image of a secret tryst over a grave was jarring. Even more so was using a James Brown sample from “Funky Drummer.” The slowed drum pattern enshrouds the song in a darkness and a depth that threatened to bury whoever was singing. As the rain and wind weathered her body away, she stayed. Unearthly collisions of drums and clanging get louder and more insistent, as her body wears down to the bone. The last measures collide noisily with a riot of strings—chaotic and powerful, it goes on endlessly, then is silent.

Conversely, Sinéad O’Connor also created simplicity and quiet on this album. She strummed chords so that every string was heard, and used precious space to let her words breathe and take new shape. It was chilling. She sounded beautiful and ugly and raw at the same time. She whispered words, and sang them as loud as she could. “You Cause As Much Sorrow,” has a melancholic melody with piano and softly plucked acoustic notes that was only slightly brighter than the tone on “Stretched,” but which still left the protagonist tortured.

In “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance,” O’Connor talks in clinical tones about severing ties in a divorce. The tension spills over and explodes into the chorus that echoes, “I’ll talk but you won’t listen to me / I know your answer already.” It shattered me. Now as a mother, I understand “Three Babies” more fully than I did as a clueless teenager. Saying you’ll lay down your life for your child isn’t an outrageous statement—that’s just your job. But singing about gathering your energy from inside, refusing basic nutrients, it sounded radical at first. The song’s meaning remains unclear. The babies’ “cold bodies” hint at miscarriage. Maybe she’s unable to let them rest. These babies were ripped from her for unknown reasons—because the subject was being violent, or was protesting something, and was maybe called a “bad mother.” Much of the lyrics are sung in first person, so it’s difficult to separate the singer from the unknown person in the song. Her first son, Jake, was still quite young when the album was released, and she later had custody battles of her own. Last year, her son, Shane, 17, ended his life, and O’Connor was devastated.

“Nothing Compares 2 U,” penned by Prince, was a worldwide success, but I was more interested in the tunes with global messages that revealed her social activism. On “Black Boys on Mopeds” she unapologetically took her critique to British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. She shattered the image of a proper and good England and replaced it with the reality: that its underlying culture was draped in racism and deceit. She was well aware she would face opposition for stating her beliefs. Her lyrics proved eerily telling: “These are dangerous days / To say what you feel is to dig your own grave.”

On the a cappella title track, she carefully and measured out every whispered word upon a quiet canvas. Walking through an arid hell to reach some enlightenment, she imagines an ocean and a bird. When she discovers the bird is her, it turns worn and faded. But O’Connor is not deterred. “I am not frightened although it’s hot / I have all that I requested / And I do not want what I haven’t got,” O’Connor says plainly.

O’Connor’s death, days before that of Paul Reubens, another misunderstood “outcast” who is being remembered for his unique style of comedy and love for life, is a reminder that the people we should treasure most are sometimes treated the worst.

Sinéad O’Connor bared her soul to us, yet we’ll never really know her pain. Thank you, Sinéad, for the beautiful music you gave us”.

I am going come to this 2020 feature from Albumism. They celebrated thirty years of I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. It is sad that she cannot see people’s reaction to this album now. O’Connor died in 2023. She left us with one of the most distinct and extraordinary bodies of work in music history:

There are moments in history that will forever remain unforgettable, no matter the age or generation. Moments that shape an era, a genre or a decade. In January of 1990, an Irish singer by the name of Sinéad O’Connor released a cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 You,” a song deeply rooted in emotion and despair which would go on to certify O’Connor and that song as one of music history’s most unforgettable moments.

O’Connor’s second album I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got was not only home to the aforementioned cover, but it also saw a shift in the singer’s attitude. The torment that prevailed on her debut, 1987’s The Lion And The Cobra, was still there. But like all things, O’Connor’s maturity started to come through on this album, giving way to a kind of hopefulness, rather than outright anger.

Listening to this album again is a walk down memory lane, but also a reminder of the depth and beauty in O’Connor’s music. Whilst this album’s breakout star most certainly was “Nothing Compares 2 You,” it may also be the standard that O’Connor never truly surpassed again on any other subsequent album. The simplicity of the video, which featured O’Connor with her trademarked shaved head, allowed for not only the singer’s beauty to be placed firmly in the spotlight, but more importantly, the emotion that O’Connor conveyed with an unabashed rawness was placed front and center. Very few have been able to achieve this since.

Moving away from the album’s standout hit and it is clear to see that O’Connor’s foot is firmly set in mostly folky types of tracks that make her voice the primary focus of each and every song. The album’s opener is the prayer-like “Feel So Different,” submerged in an initial spoken strength (The Serenity Prayer) that plays on the fact that this could easily be for an old flame, but could equally be an approach to questioning a higher power, something O’Connor has never shied away from.

O’Connor’s approach to religion has been well documented over the years, but as the singer herself stated in a recent interview with Tommy Tiernan, “I have always been interested in theology since I was a kid, because we all grew up in this theocracy and I wanted to know what was this book they were using to oppress my Granny.” O’Connor isn’t afraid to go deep with spirituality, and with this sense of curiosity comes a crossover effect that permeates into and throughout her music. I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got is living proof that just having a great song won’t cut it—the subject matter will always be the core that resonates with people.

At its core, there is no denying that this album is about loss and the conflict associated with love lost and the possibility of conflict with a higher power, whatever that higher power may be —the government, society and yes, even God. The album’s second song “I Am Stretched Out On Your Grave” is a 17th century Irish poem translated to English and covered by O’Connor with an old school hip-hop base that works beautifully with her vocals on this grief-stricken track. “The Emperor’s New Clothes” shows a conviction that is part anger and part middle finger to the never-ending judgement the singer faced at the time with her star sky rocketing, scrutiny around her Catholic faith, and her role as a newly single mother.

Politics play a part on this album too, with the song “Black Boys on Mopeds” taking a firm swipe at the Thatcher government as well as the death of a black youth at the hands of the police. A strong reminder that although this album was released in 1990, the conversations that were had then seem to be ones that we are still talking about today. O’Connor’s personal struggles extend far beyond her broken heart and she wasn’t afraid to step into the harsh reality of a world that may not have affected her directly, but most definitely surrounded her as evidenced in this song.

It is no secret that O’Connor’s struggles with mental health and controversies surrounding her relationship with religion have sometimes been at the forefront of her public image, as opposed to her music. But sensationalism aside, O’Connor was—and still is—a woman who was unafraid to sit in front of the world and bare her soul. I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got serves as a reminder of O’Connor’s brilliance, expecting nothing more in return other than to listen and question what didn’t or possibly doesn’t feel right.

On the album’s closing title track, O’Connor speaks with a gentle wisdom, reflecting, “I have water for my journey / I have bread and I have wine / No longer will I be hungry / For the bread of life is mine.” Whilst redemption radiates throughout this song and some may say, most of the album, O’Connor managed to deliver an incredible follow-up that extended her curiosity into the unknown with a fearlessness and honesty that has rarely been matched since.

I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got remains a compelling document of a true talent that paved the way toward introspection for other artists to follow, while ensuring her legacy as a singer-songwriter committed to laying things out for all to see, uncomfortable as that may be sometimes”.

I am going to finish with a couple of reviews. AllMusic provided their take on Sinéad O'Connor's second studio album. Although there are different release dates provided online, I am pretty sure it was 20th March, 1990 that is was released (rather than 12th March). In any case, it is a monumentally powerful album that still takes me back and creates shivers:

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got became Sinéad O'Connor's popular breakthrough on the strength of the stunning Prince cover "Nothing Compares 2 U," which topped the pop charts for a month. But even its remarkable intimacy wasn't adequate preparation for the harrowing confessionals that composed the majority of the album. Informed by her stormy relationship with drummer John Reynolds, who fathered O'Connor's first child before the couple broke up, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got lays the singer's psyche startlingly and sometimes uncomfortably bare. The songs mostly address relationships with parents, children, and (especially) lovers, through which O'Connor weaves a stubborn refusal to be defined by anyone but herself. In fact, the album is almost too personal and cathartic to draw the listener in close, since O'Connor projects such turmoil and offers such specific detail. Her confrontational openness makes it easy to overlook O'Connor's musical versatility. Granted, not all of the music is as brilliantly audacious as "I Am Stretched on Your Grave," which marries a Frank O'Connor poem to eerie Celtic melodies and a James Brown "Funky Drummer" sample. But the album plays like a tour de force in its demonstration of everything O'Connor can do: dramatic orchestral ballads, intimate confessionals, catchy pop/rock, driving guitar rock, and protest folk, not to mention the nearly six-minute a cappella title track. What's consistent throughout is the frighteningly strong emotion O'Connor brings to bear on the material, while remaining sensitive to each piece's individual demands. Aside from being a brilliant album in its own right, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got foreshadowed the rise of deeply introspective female singer/songwriters like Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan, who were more traditionally feminine and connected with a wider audience. Which takes nothing away from anyone; if anything, it's evidence that, when on top of her game, O'Connor was a singular talent”.

I am going to end with this review from SLANT. Without doubt one of the best albums of the 1990s, I would encourage anyone who has not heard this album in a while to listen to. Ahead of its thirty-fifth anniversary on 20th March. O’Connor would follow her second studio album with 1992’s Am I Not Your Girl? It is an album that got some negative press. A collection of covers, it is very different from I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got:

I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got found Sinéad O’Connor bruised but determined, disappointed yet hopeful. The cause was a combination of burgeoning fame and a nasty breakup (with John Reynolds, drummer and father of O’Connor’s son), and the result was one of the most politically, socially, and spiritually charged breakup albums of the ’90s, if not the entire 20th century.

The album opens with the gorgeous orchestral pop of “Feel So Different,” a meditation on said fame and relationship: “I am not like I was before/I thought that nothing would change me.” O’Connor’s relationship woes are invariably linked to her career, and her breakup with Reynolds is likened to a business transaction on the stunning “The Last Day of Our Acquaintance.” Anger, sadness, relief, and despondency are simultaneously bundled up in O’Connor’s voice on these two tracks, as it is throughout most of the album. Her voice is flawless in its technical imperfections; she begins each song delicately but ultimately erupts with the ferociousness of a punk.

The singer’s greatest vocal achievement is perhaps her interpretation of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U,” a classic torch song she quite simply owns. While it’s the only track on which O’Connor received production assistance (Nellee Hooper gives the song a minimalist yet modern appeal), it sits comfortably among songs like the hip-hop-beats-meet-Celtic-melodies of “I Am Stretched on Your Grave,” and the acoustic protest-folk of “Black Boys on Mopeds” (on which O’Connor’s lyrics now sound prophetic, both personally and politically: “These are dangerous days/To say what you feel is to dig your own grave”).

Throughout the album, O’Connor struggles with these personal tribulations amid the oppression of the world around her: “I will live by my own policies/I will sleep with a clear conscience,” she sings on “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” The disc ends even more sparely than it begins; the a cappella title track brings the singer back to a place of prayer and hopeful redemption, but whether it’s God or a lover she seeks on her “journey,” this is clearly the voice of someone who will never stop searching”.

Three years after the release of her magnificent debut album, The Lion and the Cobra, Sinéad O'Connor released another original and personal masterpiece. Her death has left a huge void in music. However, we can remember her through her work. An album like I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. Every time I listen to it I am moved and in awe. What a brilliant and fearless artist Sinéad O'Connor was. It is clear she will never be forgotten! She was at her peak on her…

ASTONISHING second studio album.

FEATURE: Heading Through the Morning Fog: Ranking Kate Bush’s Penultimate and Final Track Combinations

FEATURE:

 

 

Heading Through the Morning Fog

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1980

 

Ranking Kate Bush’s Penultimate and Final Track Combinations

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IN terms of Kate Bush’s…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush shot for Q magazine in 1993/PHOTO CREDIT: John Stoddart

albums and dissecting them, I have produced a few features around them. In terms of track order. I have ranked her best album openers. I have also looked at the final tracks. One feature ranked the best first side closers and second side openers. That important combination. In terms of combinations, I have not yet looked at the one-two of the penultimate and closing track. I don’t think there is any other pairing I can look at, so this might be one of the last types of features like this I’ll put out. It is important to leave the listener on a high. Closing an album in style. Kate Bush is brilliant when it comes to sequencing. However, as mentioned in similar features, some albums are better sequenced than overs. Making sure the opening couple of tracks are brilliant. A strong middle and a wonderful final couple of songs. I am focusing on that latter partnership. Ten studio albums to rank. Which one has the best final two tracks. There is tough competition! I am not only taking into consideration the quality of the tracks but how they fit together and the impact they make. Many might disagree with my rankings. However, there is my opinion of which Kate Bush albums have the best…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush watching the rushes during filming of The Line, the Cross and the Curve in 1993/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

PENULTIMATE and final tracks.

_______________

TEN: The Red Shoes (1993): Why Should I Love You?/You’re the One

Bush was in a strange place when she met the Purple One. Her close friend and guitarist Alan Murphy had just died of AIDS-related pneumonia, she was going through the motions of a relationship breakdown, and was teetering on the cusp of a break from music, which, when it came, would actually last for 12 years. Prince, on the other hand, was going through one of his many spiritual rebirths. He had just emerged from the murky shadows of The Black Album, a creation he withdrew a week after release because he was convinced it was an evil, omnipotent force. He vaulted out of that hole, into a period of making music that was upbeat, pop-tinged and pumped up. In essence, the two artists’ headspaces could not really have been in more opposite places; Prince, artistically baptised and ready to change the world, and Kate Bush, surrounded by a fog of melancholia and disarray.

Prince had been a huge Kate Bush admirer for years. In emails exchanged in 1995 between Prince’s then-engineer Michael Koppelman and Bush’s then-engineer Del Palmer, Koppelman says that Prince described her as his “favourite woman”. But despite both artists being active since the 70s, it wasn’t until 1990 that they actually met in real life. Bush attended a Prince gig at Wembley during his monumental Nude Tour, asked to meet him backstage, and the rest is God-like genius collaboration history.

Perhaps it was the sheer distance between their headspaces at the time that led to what happened. Bush asked Prince to contribute a few background vocals to a song called “Why Should I Love You”, which she had just recorded in full at Abbey Road Studios. But when Prince received the track, he ignored the intructions and dismantled the entire thing like a crazed mechanic taking apart old cars on his backyard. He wanted to inject himself into the very heart of it, weaving his sound amongst her sound, giving it a new soul entirely. As Koppelman explains, “We essentially created a new song on a new piece of tape and then flew all of Kate’s tracks back on top of it… Prince stacked a bunch of keys, guitars, bass, etc, on it, and then went to sing background vocals.”

Despite being the lovechild of two of humanity’s greatest music minds, the resulting track is not often mentioned on your average BBC3 pop retrospective presented by Lauren Laverne. It’s startlingly brilliant, with sometimes bizarre, musical depths. It begins as a typical Kate Bush creation; her stratospheric vocals rising across a strange organ melody and tumbling drums. But then, about a minute through, it mutates like an unstable element being dropped into boiling water. Prince invades in a huge wave of gospel sound, the pair singing in unison: “Of all of people in the world, why should I love you?” By the time it reaches the 2-minute mark, it has been completely permeated with that Paisley Park flavour; smatters of electric guitar and rich walls of vocals spilling over its borders. The purple sound arrives like a tsunami, seemingly too vivid to suppress” – VICE

It’s alright I’ll come ’round when you’re not in
And I’ll pick up all my things
Everything I have I bought with you
But that’s alright too
It’s just everything I do
We did together
And there’s a little piece of you
In whatever
I’ve got everything I need
I’ve got petrol in the car
I’ve got some money with me
There’s just one problem

You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want

It’s alright I know where I’m going
I’m going to stay with my friend
Mmm, yes, he is very good looking
The only trouble is

He’s not you
He can’t do what you do
He can’t make me laugh and cry
At the same time
Let’s change things
Let’s danger it up
We’re crazy enough
I just can’t take it

You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want
You’re the only one I want

I know where I’m going
But I don’t want to leave
I just have one problem
We’re best friends, yeah?
We tied ourselves in knots
Doing cartwheels ‘cross the floor
Just forget it alright

Sugar?…
Honey?…
Sugar?…

Credits

Drums: Stuart Elliott
Bass: John Giblin
Guitar: Jeff Beck
Hammond: Gary Brooker
Vocals: Trio Bulgarka
Fender Rhodes, keyboards: Kate
” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

NINE: Director’s Cut (2011): And So Is Love/Rubberband Girl

Versions

There are two versions of ‘And So Is Love’: the album version from 1993, and the version from Bush’s album Director’s Cut in 2011, on which the key lyric ‘But now we see that life is sad’ is changed to ‘But now we see that life is sweet’.

Music video

The music video for ‘And So Is Love’ was also used in the movie The Line, The Cross and The Curve and features Kate singing the song in a dark room lit only by a candle.

Performances

After the release of the single, it climbed to number 26 in the UK singles chart. The chart entry marked Bush’s first appearance on the chart show Top Of The Pops in nine years. It was a straightforward performance with Kate lipsynching the song in front of the studio audience with two female backing singers by her side”.

When Kate returned in 1993, reviews of the lead single of The Red Shoes were positive but not ecstatic.

This is Bush at her most direct… rhythmic, almost raunchy workout with the occasional outburst of rock guitar, strange lyrics – and a wired vocal impression of said office accessory being stretched. It is also a very commercial rejoinder.

Alan Jones, Music Week, 28 August 1993

Perhaps a little too up tempo for my tastes – I prefer my Bush all dreamy and mysterious. A minus the drums… but it still has enough kookiness to draw me under. And she’s still the only artist for whom the word “kooky” isn’t an insult.

Everett True, Melody Maker, 11 September 1993

I thought the original ‘Rubberband’ was… Well, it’s a fun track. I was quite happy with the original, but I just wanted to do something really different. It is my least favourite track. I had considered taking it off to be honest. Because it didn’t feel quite as interesting as the other tracks. But I thought, at the same time, it was just a bit of fun and it felt like a good thing to go out with. It’s just a silly pop song really, I loved Danny Thompson’s bass on that, and of course Danny (McIntosh)’s guitar. 

Mojo (UK), 2011Kate Bush Encyclopedia

EIGHT: The Sensual World (1989): Rocket’s Tail/This Woman’s Work

Rock music was really in some state of transition at the time, even though Kate seems always to have functioned on some outer edge wherein the rules did not apply. So many tracks on this album stand out, and it feels like the very personification of Autumn to me.

“Never Be Mine” is filled with the bittersweet yearning of “they’re setting fire to the corn fields as you’re taking me home” which resolves with “the smell of burning fields will now mean you and here/and this is where I want to be, this is what I need/but I know that this will never be mine.” Beautiful and sad. Fall is the time when we put the past to bed and settle in for winter’s nap, or at least a nice cup of tea by the fire. This album is glorious, and is heard to best effect this time of year.

My favorite track from the album is “Rocket’s Tail” for many reasons, but it sets itself indubitably in a particular time by announcing it happened one November night from the very first line. The track opens with the sinuous harmonies of Trio Bulgarka. The ethereal beauty of Kate’s voice threads nicely through the confounding tones of the Bulgarian voices, to magnificent effect.

That November night, looking up into the sky
You said hey wish that was me up there
It's the biggest rocket I could find
And it's holding the night in its arms
If for only a moment
I can't see the look in its eyes
But I'm sure it must be laughing

I once heard that Rocket was Kate’s cat, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s such a pretty story. I mean, it MUST be true, right? Anyone who’s seen cat zoomies can attest that they’d shoot across the sky like a meteor if they could, and who better than a cat can demonstrate a tail on fire?

But it seemed to me the saddest thing I'd ever seen
And I thought you were crazy wishing such a thing

I saw only a stick on fire
Alone on its journey
Home to the quickening ground
With no one there to catch it

The poignance of this set of lines blew me away, that where the intrepid cat saw excitement and adventure and the sheer thrill of adrenaline-inducing hijinks, the speaker would see isolation in the vast chill of space.

Oh, but then she joins in the fun:

I put on my pointed hat
And my black and silver suit
And I check my gunpowder pack
And I strap the stick on my back
And dressed as a rocket on Waterloo Bridge
Nobody seemed to see me

Nutty lady on London’s Waterloo Bridge making like a bottle rocket? I’m down with this. Can I play, too?

Then with the fuse in my hand
And now shooting into the night

A fretless bass has wound through the proceedings at this point. He is not credited on this track, but I feel this can only be Mick Karn, who played on another track on the the album whence this track originates. Superb. Mick Karn was pure magic. Gone far too soon. Just like him to blend into the shadows and let his music coil through the dance.

And still as a rocket
I land in the river
Was it me said you were crazy?

And then we get the full glory that can only be the guitar of David Gilmour. How did this thing go from glorious to impossibly wonderful? Yes. Just like this.

I put on my cloudiest suit
Size five lightning boots too
'Cause I am a rocket
On fire
Look at me go with my tail on fire
Tail on fire
On fire

Between the otherworldly vocals and the stratospheric squealings of David Gilmour's guitar, this track is one for the sci-fi ages. We’re imagining ourselves elsewhere. We’re dreaming and we’re reaching. If we aspire to take the night in our arms, who is there to stop us?” – Raconteur Press

John Hughes, the American film director, had just made this film called ‘She’s Having A Baby’, and he had a scene in the film that he wanted a song to go with. And the film’s very light: it’s a lovely comedy. His films are very human, and it’s just about this young guy – falls in love with a girl, marries her. He’s still very much a kid. She gets pregnant, and it’s all still very light and child-like until she’s just about to have the baby and the nurse comes up to him and says it’s a in a breech position and they don’t know what the situation will be. So, while she’s in the operating room, he has so sit and wait in the waiting room and it’s a very powerful piece of film where he’s just sitting, thinking; and this is actually the moment in the film where he has to grow up. He has no choice. There he is, he’s not a kid any more; you can see he’s in a very grown-up situation. And he starts, in his head, going back to the times they were together. There are clips of film of them laughing together and doing up their flat and all this kind of thing. And it was such a powerful visual: it’s one of the quickest songs I’ve ever written. It was so easy to write. We had the piece of footage on video, so we plugged it up so that I could actually watch the monitor while I was sitting at the piano and I just wrote the song to these visuals. It was almost a matter of telling the story, and it was a lovely thing to do: I really enjoyed doing it - Roger Scott Interview, BBC Radio 1 (UK), 14 October 1989

That’s the sequence I had to write the song about, and it’s really very moving, him in the waiting room, having flashbacks of his wife and him going for walks, decorating… It’s exploring his sadness and guilt: suddenly it’s the point where he has to grow up. He’d been such a wally up to this point - Len Brown, ‘In The Realm Of The Senses’. NME (UK), 7 October 1989” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

SEVEN: The Kick Inside (1978): Room for the Life/The Kick Inside

Room for the Life” is that rare thing in Kate Bush’s early discography: a song presenting a dialogue between two women. You’d think this would be particularly refreshing, but there’s something odd about “Room for the Life”: nobody ever talks about it. That’s not to say there’s not a single person in the world who doesn’t enjoy the song — it’d be astonishing if in the four decades since The Kick Inside was released nobody had liked “Room for the Life.” But the song is hindered by the fact it’s not any good. It’s easily the worst track on The Kick Inside: ham-fisted, embarrassing, and just plain forgettable.

Musically, “Room for the Life” is a trainwreck. Its verse blends into the rest of The Kick Inside, offering little in the way of standing out, and the chorus does little to liven up the song, with its tepid use of beer bottles as an instrument only succeeding in making the track sound flaccid. The worst comes at the end of the chorus, with Bush chiming “mama woman aha!” obnoxiously. This culminates in the song’s outro, with Bush imitating… what is she doing here exactly? Percussionist Morris Pert’s boo-bams (a kind of bongos) bring a light world music flavor to it, amplified by Bush’s grating “OO-AH”s. It’s one of the most tasteless moments on an otherwise sophisticated record, and releasing a track like this instead of “Frightened Eyes” is a downright baffling move on Bush’s part.

In addition to its musical tastelessness, “Room for the Life” is out of touch. Bush has identified herself with male artists, admitting that a lack of interesting female songwriters was the reason (she cites Joni Mitchell, Billie Holliday, and Joan Armatrading as exceptions). When she writes about two female characters in “Room,” things fall apart (this isn’t always the case — my favorite Kate Bush song is a woman-centered dialogue, as we’ll see). The song is addressed from one woman to another, telling of the magical power of women, expressed as a singularity with the oddly agrammatical phrase “because we’re woman.” It’s an oddly naïve little song, and one with strange conclusions on how to be a woman. “Lost in your men and the games you play/trying to prove that you’re better woman,” Bush chides her friend. How dare she try to get ahead of men. The audacity of it” – Dreams of Orgonon

The song The Kick Inside, the title track, was inspired by a traditional folk song and it was an area that I wanted to explore because it’s one that is really untouched and that is one of incest. There are so many songs about love, but they are always on such an obvious level. This song is about a brother and a sister who are in love, and the sister becomes pregnant by her brother. And because it is so taboo and unheard of, she kills herself in order to preserve her brother’s name in the family. The actual song is in fact the suicide note. The sister is saying ‘I’m doing it for you’ and ‘Don’t worry, I’ll come back to you someday.’ - Self Portrait, 1978

That’s inspired by an old traditional song called ‘Lucy Wan.’ It’s about a young girl and her brother who fall desperately in love. It’s an incredibly taboo thing. She becomes pregnant by her brother and it’s completely against all morals. She doesn’t want him to be hurt, she doesn’t want her family to be ashamed or disgusted, so she kills herself. The song is a suicide note. She says to her brother, ‘Don’t worry. I’m doing it for you.’- Jon Young, Kate Bush gets her kicks. Trouser Press, July 1978” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

SIX: Lionheart (1978): Coffee Homeground/Hammer Horror

[‘Coffee Homeground’] was in fact inspired directly from a cab driver that I met who was in fact a bit nutty. And it’s just a song about someone who thinks they’re being poisoned by another person, they think that there’s Belladonna in their tea and that whenever they offer them something to eat, it’s got poisen in it. And it’s just a humorous aspect of paranoia really and we sort of done it in a Brechtian style, the old sort of German [vibe] to try and bring across the humour side of it - Lionheart Promo Cassette, EMI Canada, 1978” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

Resultingly, Bush’s engagement with Epic Theater is a purely audible one. “Homeground” owes more to Kurt Weill and Lotte Lenya than it does to Brecht, as it’s their sound Bush pillages. Bush’s trill becomes a half-spoken warble as she strives to sound like Lenya for a track. It’s not a bad impression — sure, it sounds nothing like Lenya’s voice, but Bush doesn’t do the worst job of imitating her speech patterns. Musically, the strongest resemblance to Brecht and Weill’s work here is the morbid subject matter applied to carnivalesque scoring. The melody contains huge leaps and never sounds quite the same, as the intro and bridge repeat essentially the same phrase in a different key every time they appear. There are little discordant details such as the use of the non existent #VII chord of B flat (A), which doesn’t appear in B flat major or B flat minor. The pre-chorus will make a play at being in A before transforming into some mode of B (possibly mixolydian, or anything with a flattened seventh). Even if “Homeground” lacks conceptual clarity, it’s far from banal.

The decrepit house of “Homeground” is as much a stage for the song itself as it is for Bush. In a period where she’s torn between the obligations of touring and her desire to give her songs the time they need, “Coffee Homeground” is the sort of song Kate Bush is bound to produce. Her shortcomings and her ambition clash violently, and the result is as fascinating and vexed as anything she’s ever made. This has been a challenging period for Bush, and as we’ll see in the next two weeks, it’s about to climax” – Dreams of Orgonon

The song is not about, as many think, Hammer Horror films. It is about an actor and his friend. His friend is playing the lead in a production ofThe Hunchback of Notre Dame,a part he’s been reading all his life, waiting for the chance to play it. He’s finally got the big break he’s always wanted, and he is the star. After many rehearsals he dies accidentally, and the friend is asked to take the role over, which, because his own career is at stake, he does. The dead man comes back to haunt him because he doesn’t want him to have the part, believing he’s taken away the only chance he ever wanted in life. And the actor is saying, “Leave me alone, because it wasn’t my fault – I have to take this part, but I’m wondering if it’s the right thing to do because the ghost is not going to leave me alone and is really freaking me out. Every time I look round a corner he’s there, he never disappears.”

The song was inspired by seeing James Cagney playing the part of Lon Chaney playing the hunchback – he was an actor in an actor in an actor, rather like Chinese boxes, and that’s what I was trying to create - Kate Bush Club Newsletter, November 1979” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

FIVE: Aerial (2005): Nocturn/Aerial

For instance, the lyrics of Nocturn is a beautiful description of awakening to – or at least intuiting – Big Mind. God as all and ourselves as That.

Interpreting can only detract from it, but here is a go at it…

Nocturn

On this Midsummer night
Everyone is sleeping
We go driving into the moonlight

Could be in a dream
Our clothes are on the beach
These prints of our feet
Lead right up to the sea
No one, no one is here
No one, no one is here
We stand in the Atlantic
We become panoramic

No one is here – this probably means that there were no others there, but can also be seen as the realization that there is no “I” – there is no one here. I am gone, and there is only God. We become panoramic – the world world is within us.

We tire of the city
We tire of it all
We long for just that something more

Yes, a longing for discovering our true nature. As that which is, with no “I” anywhere. As consciousness and all its manifestations.

Could be in a dream
Our clothes are on the beach
The prints of our feet
Lead right up to the sea
No one, no one is here
No one, no one is here
We stand in the Atlantic
We become panoramic

The stars are caught in our hair
The stars are on our fingers
A veil of diamond dust
Just reach up and touch it
The sky’s above our heads
The sea’s around our legs
In milky, silky water
We swim further and further

The universe happens within and as us, and the stars are caught in our hair and the stars are on our fingers. The can be seen as a beautiful expression of the play of the absolute and relative, as ourselves as Big Mind and a human self.

We dive down… We dive down

A diamond night, a diamond sea
and a diamond sky…

When the realization of no “I” pops, there is indeed a diamond quality to it all. It is brilliantly clear, stainless.

We dive deeper and deeper
we dive deeper and deeper
Could be we are here
Could be in a dream
It came up on the horizon
Rising and rising
In a sea of honey, a sky of honey
A sea of honey, a sky of honey

And here is the bliss that comes with an awakening. The sea and sky of honey that comes with the release from the previous contractions.

The chorus:
Look at the light, all the time it’s a changing
Look at the light, climbing up the aerial
Bright, white coming alive jumping off of the aerial
All the time it’s a changing, like now…
All the time it’s a changing, like then again…
All the time it’s a changing
And all the dreamers are waking

Finding ourselves as the ground, as that from and as the world of form arises, as emptiness dancing, we see clearly how the world of form is always changing. And there is no need to hold onto anything.

This is the dreamers waking. And each one of us is the dreamer waiting to awaken” – Absentofi

The dawn has come
And the wine will run
And the song must be sung
And the flowers are melting
In the sun

I feel I want to be up on the roof
I feel I gotta get up on the roof
Up, up on the roof
Up, up on the roof

Oh the dawn has come
And the song must be sung
And the flowers are melting
What kind of language is this?

What kind of language is this?
I can’t hear a word you’re saying
Tell me what are you singing
In the sun

All of the birds are laughing
All of the birds are laughing
Come on let’s all join in
Come on let’s all join in

I want to be up on the roof
I’ve gotta be up on the roof
Up, up high on the roof
Up, up on the roof
In the sun

Credits

Drums: Steve Sanger
Bass: Del Palmer
Guitars: Dan McIntosh
Keyboards: Kate
Percussion: Bosco D’Oliveira
” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

FOUR: 50 Words for Snow (2011): 50 Words for Snow/Among Angels 

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. (…) I just briefly explained to him the idea of the song, more or less what I said to you really. I just said it’s our idea of 50 Words For Snow. Stephen is a lovely man but he is also an extraordinary person and an incredible actor amongst his many other talents. So really it was just trying to get the right tone which was the only thing we had to work on. He just came into the studio and we just worked through the words. And he works very quickly because he’s such an able performer. (…) I think faloop’njoompoola is one of my favourites. [laughs]

John Doran, ‘A Demon In The Drift: Kate Bush Interviewed‘. The Quietus, 2011 Kate Bush Encyclopedia

The title track is the highlight and possibly the most baffling piece of music to be heard all year. Stephen Fry is an unusual choice of guest as he intones 50 different synonyms for snow over a dense tribal backing. These terms for snow are mostly made up, and go from the beautiful (‘blackbird braille’), to the ridiculous (‘Boomerangablanca’). A lot of thought has clearly gone into these linguistic creations and a read of the lyric sheet is strongly recommended. It is an utterly bonkers piece but it encapsulates everything that is so unique and fascinating about Bush” – DIY

Consider the song “Misty” at time index 4:46. For me, these five notes of the guitar are the most precious of the whole album, and that is, because they stand out so much. As its two predecessors, “Misty” — the story of a snow man coming through the window, lay down besides a woman, make love to her and dissolve in her hand (make of this story what you want) — mainly has only a handful of motifs. In other words, the complete musical material is present very fast, and from there on, there is mostly addition of instruments (like percussion and strings). It is this very restraint which makes the first three songs of 50 Words of Snow so special, this is the challenge which was absent from Aerial’s splurging “A Sky of Honey” – Medium

On ‘Misty’ her voice becomes deeper, minxier, as she husks “give him eyes/Make him smile for me, give him life”. Her growl is bewitching, and despite the utter ludicrousness of her love, you become as snowblind in it as she is. “Melting in my hand”, indeed…” – NME

‘Misty’ is an incredibly sensual and heartfelt track featuring a powerfully soulful vocal. It seems to describe a passionate encounter with a snowman that has came to life before mysteriously departing, “I see his snowy white face but I’m not afraid / he lies down beside me / I can feel him melting in my hand.” – DIY

THREE: Hounds of Love (1985): Hello Earth/The Morning Fog 

‘Hello Earth’ was a very difficult track to write, as well, because it was… in some ways it was too big for me. [Laughs] And I ended up with this song that had two huge great holes in the choruses, where the drums stopped, and everything stopped, and people would say to me, “what’s going to happen in these choruses,” and I hadn’t got a clue.

We had the whole song, it was all there, but these huge, great holes in the choruses. And I knew I wanted to put something in there, and I’d had this idea to put a vocal piece in there, that was like this traditional tune I’d heard used in the film Nosferatu. And really everything I came up with, it with was rubbish really compared to what this piece was saying. So we did some research to find out if it was possible to use it. And it was, so that’s what we did, we re-recorded the piece and I kind of made up words that sounded like what I could hear was happening on the original. And suddenly there was these beautiful voices in these chorus that had just been like two black holes.

In some ways I thought of it as a lullaby for the Earth. And it was the idea of turning the whole thing upside down and looking at it from completely above. You know, that image of if you were lying in water at night and you were looking up at the sky all the time, I wonder if you wouldn’t get the sense of as the stars were reflected in the water, you know, a sense of like, you could be looking up at water that’s reflecting the stars from the sky that you’re in. And the idea of them looking down at the earth and seeing these storms forming over America and moving around the globe, and they have this like huge fantasticly overseeing view of everything, everything is in total perspective. And way, way down there somewhere there’s this little dot in the ocean that is them - Richard Skinner, ‘Classic Albums interview: Hounds Of Love. Radio 1 (UK), aired 26 January 1992” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

Well, that’s really meant to be the rescue of the whole situation, where now suddenly out of all this darkness and weight comes light. You know, the weightiness is gone and here’s the morning, and it’s meant to feel very positive and bright and uplifting from the rest of dense, darkness of the previous track. And although it doesn’t say so, in my mind this was the song where they were rescued, where they get pulled out of the water. And it’s very much a song of seeing perspective, of really, you know, of being so grateful for everything that you have, that you’re never grateful of in ordinary life because you just abuse it totally. And it was also meant to be one of those kind of “thank you and goodnight” songs. You know, the little finale where everyone does a little dance and then the bow and then they leave the stage. [laughs] - Richard Skinner, ‘Classic Albums interview: Hounds Of Love. Radio 1 (UK), aired 26 January 1992Kate Bush Encyclopedia

TWO: Never for Ever (1980): Army Dreamers/Breathing

Since we’re used to Bush being asleep to political infrastructure and class, we can at least turn to her complex politics of domesticity. While she doesn’t interrogate the structural causes of political violence, she’s still centering a song around the vulnerable people whose lives are destroyed by it. Never for Ever is populated by mothers and wives. Five of its eleven songs explicitly focus on maternal and uxorial figures, and that’s if we don’t count the broadly familial “All We Ever Look For.” Bush’s wives and mothers tend towards fatigue over their familial roles, experiencing emotions that contradict their outward actions or social operations. Bush’s mothers are an intrinsic good whose absence or loss is a tragedy, and whose losses are a social catastrophe. Key to the mother’s characterization in “Army Dreamers” is absence. She bemoans not merely her lost son, but his lost opportunities and the things she couldn’t provide for him. “What a waste of army dreamers,” muses Bush, in a ritual mourning of military casualties, which treats them as a cessation of dreams.

Most impressive is the way “Army Dreamers” treats the mother as an individual while also stressing her importance to her family. Stripped of her duties to her son, she is left with no more motherhood to perform. This suggests that while war is horrible, the people who are left behind have their own experiences of it. Men get sent off to die, and the women they leave behind are expected to grieve dutifully. Yet they’re prescribed a performative kind of grief — the actual effects of trauma are widely besmirched and ignored by the jingoistic reactionaries who send civilians off to die. Women are usually seen as broken when their soldiers fail to come home — this isn’t quite what Bush does. Is the mother broken? No, of course not. Has she had a vital part of her life snatched from her? Utterly.

There’s a touch of sentimentalism to this, if at least a grounded and humanitarian one. Violent deaths are often devastating because they cut short the lives of unsuspecting civilians who’ve been planning to go live their lives as usual the next day. Bush’s anti-militarism is hardly strident, but “Army Dreamers” has an edge to it even in its understatedness, blaming the services of “B.F.P.O” for overseas tragedies (although interestingly, her son’s death appears to be an accident — there’s little fanfare of death, no suggestion of the glory of battle). The horror of the death is largely its silence — all the things that couldn’t happen, no matter how much saying them would make them so.

The politics of the situation are left understated, as is typical for Bush, and yet with a light inimical rage, as if Bush is finally turning to the British establishment and shouting “look at what you’ve done!” While “Army Dreamers” is far from an indictment of the military-industrial complex (indeed, it has more to do with the British Army’s consumption of Irish civilians than anything else), its highlighting of war as futile is striking. “Give the kid the pick of pips/and give him all your stripes and ribbons/now he’s sitting in his hole/he might as well have buttons and bows” is a line of understated condemnation that spits on military emblems (pips are a British Army insignia) and consolidates trenches and graves. “B. F. P. O.,,” intone Bush’s backing vocalists again and again. In interviews, Bush backpedals from any perceived anti-militarist sentiments in her work (“I’m not slagging off the army…”), but her song tells a different story: nothing comes with B. F. P. O. except carnage” – Dreams of Orgonon

It’s about a baby still in the mother’s womb at the time of a nuclear fallout, but it’s more of a spiritual being. It has all its senses: sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing, and it knows what is going on outside the mother’s womb, and yet it wants desperately to carry on living, as we all do of course. Nuclear fallout is something we’re all aware of, and worried about happening in our lives, and it’s something we should all take time to think about. We’re all innocent, none of us deserve to be blown up - Deanne Pearson, ‘The Me Inside’. Smash Hits (UK), May 1980

When I wrote the song, it was from such a personal viewpoint. It was just through having heard a thing for years without it ever having got through to me. ‘Til the moment it hit me, I hadn’t really been moved. Then I suddenly realised the whole devastation and disgusting arrogance of it all. Trying to destroy something that we’ve not created – the earth. The only thing we are is a breathing mechanism: everything is breathing. Without it we’re just nothing. All we’ve got is our lives, and I was worried that when people heard it they were going to think, ‘She’s exploiting commercially this terribly real thing.’ I was very worried that people weren’t going to take me from my emotional standpoint rather than the commercial one. But they did, which is great. I was worried that people wouldn’t want to worry about it because it’s so real. I was also worried that it was too negative, but I do feel that there is hope in the whole thing, just for the fact that it’s a message from the future. It’s not from now, it’s from a spirit that may exist in the future, a non-existent spiritual embryo who sees all and who’s been round time and time again so they know what the world’s all about. This time they don’t want to come out, because they know they’re not going to live. It’s almost like the mother’s stomach is a big window that’s like a cinema screen, and they’re seeing all this terrible chaos - Kris Needs, ‘Fire In The Bush’. Zigzag (UK), 1980” – Kate Bush Encyclopedia

ONE: The Dreaming (1982): Houdini/Get Out of My House

Houdini” is the face of The Dreaming. It’s one of the only Bush sleeves where the image is supplied by the song. Its aspect, another creation of fraternal mainstay John Carder Bush, is a sepia photograph in medium closeup depicting a slightly agrestal Bush with her head tilted to the right, with her mouth open wide revealing a key on her tongue, which she passes to a faceless Del Palmer. This image derives from the lyrics of “Houdini,” which impart the fictionalized yet broadly historical experience of Bess Houdini, widow of premier escapologist Harry Houdini, who tries to contact her late husband through necromancy (“I wait at the table/hold hands with weeping strangers/wait for you/to join the group”). The relevant lyric “with a kiss I’d pass the key/and feel your tongue, teasing and receiving,” is unique among pop lyrics, as the overwhelming majority of them don’t contain idle recollections of Frenching a deceased spouse. It’s a bald-faced and ostentatiously move that flags how uninterested in notions of “normality” Bush is. 

This furthermore indicates the subversive narratology Bush is pursuing. It’s quite boldly literal in the Carder Bush photo, where Del Palmer’s face is turned away from the frame. There’s an occlusion of “great man” narratives to “Houdini.” It’s named after one of the 20th century’s great performers, but it’s largely defined by his absence. As a result, the story has to be about the widowed Bess and her grief. Impressively, “Houdini” avoids elegy for the accomplishments of a Great Man, opting instead for the love Bess Houdini bore for her husband and the ecstatically weird lengths she went to demonstrate that. 

The song is far from a stringent one. “Houdini” is fueled by anguished conniptions rather than melodic coherence. The verse initially sounds like “The Infant Kiss” or some other perfectly normal song with its piano balladry in Eb minor with a progression that finishes on a major tonic chord. It commences as a séance with mourners preparing to reach into the ether (“the tambourine jingle-jangles/the medium roams and rambles”). The refrain is the apex of Bush shrieks, culminating in a gravely, agonized “WITH YOUR LIFE/THE ONLY THING IN MY MIND/WE PULL YOU FROM THE WATER!” The result is hardly melodic — it’s willfully ugly, produced by Bush eating lots of chocolate and drinking milk to sabotage her own voice. Whether or not the experiment works, it doesn’t seem like Bush cares — she wants this to sound raw and ugly” – Dreams of Orgonon

Uncertainty pervades “Get Out of My House,” The Dreaming’s brutal culmination. Catalyzed by its beleaguering yet urgent drumbeat and a lacerating lead guitar part from Alan Murphy, it is confrontational and purgative in its spectacular vocal menagerie, all in dialogue (often call-and-response) with one another yet seemingly not of an accord, as the bombastic and tremulous delivery of “when you left, the door was…” is answered by the siren-like, low-mixed B.V.’s crying “SLAMMING!” Adhering mostly to 4/4, “Get Out of My House” revolves through dizzying sequences of repetitive chord changes, with its first verse in G# melodic minor, confined to a progression of i-IV (G# minor – C#), moving to the natural minor in Verse Two with a progression of i-iv (G# minor – C # minor), signaling a domination of brutal repetition and minor keys without catharsis. With one of Bush’s most agonized vocals carrying the refrain (a genuinely harrowing and throaty “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”), the song emits agony, trauma, and expulsion.

***

The man who was my father often pontificated about his love for me. Shedding the crocodile tears of a consummate sentimentalist, he would frequently expatiate about how proud he was of me and what a good person I was. This would inevitably happen after he mocked me for my everyday behavior, berated me for having opinions contradictory to his own, treat himself as an authority talking down to a stupid and helpless buffoon, call me a prick, and shooting down pretty much every attempt I made to be my own person. Such is paternalism masquerading as parenting.

In the latter half of 2017, as I was inching away from the upbringing I’d endured and the boy I once was, I was bundled up in my then-father’s living room, watched The Shining for the fifth or seventh or tenth time. I was intimately familiar with the movie, but something felt different this time. I was emotionally attuned to the nuances of Shelley Duvall and Jack Nicholson’s performances that went beyond visual literacy. The scene that deeply impacted me this time around was Jack’s one scene alone with Danny. It is loveless, leering, and utterly terrifying. “You know I’d never hurt you, don’t you?” says Jack to the child whose arm he broke three years ago. It is not a question, but at once a lie and a threat. Jack clearly means “You’d BETTER know that.” I shuddered,  and for the first time I wept over a horror movie. In the tepid comfort of my sperm donor’s living room, Jack Nicholson’s sneered declaration of love struck intimately close to home.

***

Stanley Kubrick’s film version of The Shining touches on intergenerational abuse, trauma, systemic violence, and spatiotemporal dyschronia more than Stephen King’s novel does. While King labors under the delusion that his story is about a broken alcoholic’s tragic descent into madness, Kubrick’s film presents washed-up writer, domestic abuser, alcoholic, and axe murderer Jack Torrance as a capricious, mean-minded, narcissistic, mendacious, gaslighting bastard. While King has railed against Kubrick for bowdlerizing Jack’s humanity, Kubrick and Jack Nicholson in fact make Jack a more rounded character. While Stephen King’s idea of characterization is two-dimensional (consisting of a crucial flaw and a noble virtue), Kubrick and his actors sketch character in terms of behavior and small gestures that reveal the nature of the Torrances. As a result, Jack’s smug maliciousness in the film is more psychologically choate than his counterpart in the book” - Dreams of Orgonon

FEATURE: A Sea Full of Fish People: A Desire for a New Kate Bush Fanzine, Community or Website

FEATURE:

 

 

A Sea Full of Fish People

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1993 during filming of The Line, the Cross and the Curve (wearing the same T-shirt she wore when signing copies of The Dreaming in 1982)/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

 

A Desire for a New Kate Bush Fanzine, Community or Website

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WHEN writing about Kate Bush…

through the years, I have thought about what it would be like if there was a fan club. It might seem outdated and something that would take a lot of money and time. However, as Kate Bush is growing in popularity and there is this new generation of fans, it does seem a shame that this connection exists only online. I know that people hold small Kate Bush events and there are websites dedicated to her. However, as her fan collective – Fish People is what I would name us – is so loving and has this shared bond with an amazing artist, there is a real opportunity to connect us in a direct way. I know there have not been any large fan conventions for years. Bush would not attend one herself, yet it would be nice if there was a  gathering. Not to say there is an absence of togetherness and celebration. Tribute acts, tribute shows and special evens are held all year round. However, I do like the notion of naming the fanbase and returning to times past. There did used to be a Kate Bush fan club. A newsletter that she would contribute to. Today, Kate Bush contributes to her official website and posts updates. It is good that we get this interaction. However, I have been looking through a books that collected together old issues of HomeGround. That was the Kate Bush fanzine, It published its last edition in 2012. Not only are old editions a treasure trove of information, career highlights and writing about Kate Bush. I also think that they show how widespread the fanbase was. Today, it is as broad as ever. How wonderful it would be to have a monthly or even yearly fanzine. Fans could contribute writing. There could be news and features. I have mused about this before. Some would argue the cost of making it happen would not make it worth the effort. Fans could pay towards the publication. I do love when magazine articles feature Kate Bush. However, with such a loving and loyal fanbase, having us show that love and appreciation in a fanzine would be amazing. So many people would be on board.

Other than that, an official fan club would be something that could recruit an army of Fish People. Annual events and get-togethers. I am sure Kate Bush would be thrilled. It would be more than annual gatherings or some form of convention. Someone could head it up. There would be this base. A chance to expand things. If Kate Bush were not running it, there is a limitation in terms of instant or obvious benefits. Many fan clubs are designed so that fans gain exclusive information or merchandise about an artist. That could work for Kate Bush. Getting exclusives about her and any music developments. That would be so cool. Also, fan-designed clothing and goodies. Again, people could say it is nostalgia and not realty relevant in the current climate. How everything is digital. Many major artists have fanbases and fan clubs. There are Swifites for Taylor Swift. Kylie Minogue has her lovers. As I have written before, Kate Bush has her unofficial Fish People. I have also been thinking about another website. There is Kate Bush’s official website, Gaffaweb and the Kate Bush Enclcyopedia. Most of it is archive. All useful information, though there is a lot of modern-day information and details that could be included. Bush’s official website has merchandise and news. Something fresh that collates everything together. All the archives, videos, albums, merchandise, plus a tonne of other stuff. The essential site that fans could contribute to. There is a lot of new love and interest in Kate Bush. This will continue for years. It would be fitting to pay tribute to that somehow. Rather than is being divided online and there being this small pockets of fandom. Events that are quite small. I am thinking wider and larger. Maybe an annual Kate Bush convention or event. Where writers, artists and academics could speak about Bush and her music. Read essays and present talks. All this love and energy for Kate Bush should be channelled somewhere.

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush photographed in 1989 in an outtake for the cover shoot of The Sensual World/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

How do we go about that in a modern age where digital rules everything? The music print media is still alive, yet it is expensive to maintain. A lot of money needed. How could a fanzine realistically survive? I do know that fans would pay to make it happen. There are some fascinating archives and lots of contemporary news that could be collated. HomeGround covered a lot of it, yet they ended over a decade ago. Archive websites that have maybe stopped arching and have not been updated for years. Not really any blogs dedicated to Kate Bush. Kate Bush News is perhaps the only website that caters to fans in this way. They have been going for years and do great work. I have been a little restless. This growing legion of fans. A fan club or fanzine could get contributions from high-profile names. At the very least, we do need to name the fan collective. Whether Bush would be on board with Fish People. Is another name more appropriate? As a lot of people are leaving social media and we are become less connected, there should be new initiatives. An official annual convention. Something bigger than what is out there at the moment. A new website that could work alongside Kate Bush News and is full of everything Kate Bush-related. Also, something oldskool. Newsletters or something in the post. Bush herself loves her fans and is so pleased that she is being discovered by new people. How some consider her to be a new artist! There are great websites and books out there. I think there could be a little more. Bringing fans together. Having all the Fish People united would be an incredible thing to see. Conventions around the world or this worldwide fan club that we could all be part of. We do not know when a new album will arrive or what this year holds. However, it is going to be exciting. Great things will happen. A fan club, fanzine or new website would truly show Kate Bush…

HOW much she is loved.

FEATURE: The Blacker the Berry: Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly at Ten

FEATURE:

 

 

The Blacker the Berry

  

Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly at Ten

_________

ONE of the biggest albums…

PHOTO CREDIT: John Francis Peters for The New York Times

of the 2010s has an anniversary coming up on 15th March. Kendrick Lamar’s third studio album, To Pimp a Butterfly, turns ten. A move up and switch from Lamar’s 2012 album, good kid, m.A.A.d city, To Pimp a Butterfly blends Jazz, Funk, Hip-Hop, Soul and other genres. It was his most ambitious and eclectic album to that date. Lamar focuses on politics, inequality, racial tensions and depression. It is both personal and universal. It is no surprise that it was highly acclaimed by critics. Ahead of its tenth anniversary, I wanted to spotlight a masterpiece from one of Hip-Hop’s legends and leaders. A number one album in the U.S. and U.K., To Pimp a Butterfly features contributions from George Clinton, Snoop Dogg, Rapsody, Dr. Dre, George Clinton and a range of wonderful musicians and producers. An album that was compared to the best work of Sly and the Family Stone, Marvin Gaye and Curtis Mayfield, many noted how Kendrick Lamar was angrier than them. In terms of highlighting the realities of modern America. The racism and inequality that remains. A fearless album with an immense scope, it still sound so relevant a decade later. At a time when America is changing and Donald Trump is President once more, you feel like the themes Kendrick Lamar addresses are back under the spotlight. I am going to come to a few reviews of To Pimp a Butterfly before finishing up with a feature that discusses the legacy and impact of Kendrick Lamar’s magnum opus. Celebrating a dense, mournful, powerful, wry and theatrical follow-up to good kid, m.A.A.d city, this is what Pitchfork observed about a modern Hip-Hop masterpiece:

Kendrick Lamar’s major-label albums play out like Spike Lee films in miniature. In both artists’ worlds, the stakes are unbearably high, the characters’ motives are unclear, and morality is knotty, but there is a central force you can feel steering every moment. The “Good and Bad Hair” musical routine from Lee’s 1988 feature School Daze depicted Black women grappling with colorism and exclusionary standards of American beauty. Mookie’s climactic window smash in 1989’s Do the Right Thing plunged its characters into fiery bedlam, quietly prophesying the coming L.A. riots in the process. In these moments, you could feel the director speaking to you directly through his characters and their trajectories. Lamar’s records, while crowded with conflicting ideas and arguing voices, have a similar sense of a guiding hand at work.

Lamar’s new album, To Pimp a Butterfly, doesn’t explicitly bill itself as a movie like Good Kid, M.A.A.D City did, but the network of interlocking dramas explored here feels filmic nonetheless, and a variety of characters appear across the album’s expanse. The opener, “Wesley’s Theory,” turns the downfall of action-star-turned-convicted-tax-dodger Wesley Snipes into a kind of Faustian parable. Snoop drops by on “Institutionalized”; Dre himself phones in on “Wesley.” The mood is wry, theatrical, chaotic, ironic, and mournful, often all at once: On “For Free? (Interlude)” an impatient woman ticks off a laundry list of material demands before Kendrick snaps back that “This dick ain’t free!” and thunders through a history of Black oppression, spoken-word style, as if to say, “This money you crave, it’s blood money.” The album is dotted with surreal grace notes, like a parable: God appears in the guise of a homeless man in “How Much a Dollar Cost,” and closer “Mortal Man” ends on a lengthy, unnerving fever-dream interview with the ghost of 2Pac.

The music, meanwhile, follows a long line of genre-busting freakouts (The Roots’ PhrenologyCommon’s Electric CircusQ-Tip’s Kamaal the AbstractAndré 3000’s The Love Below) in kicking at the confines of rap music presentation. There’s half a jazz band present at all times; pianist Robert Glasper, producer/sax player Terrace Martin and bass wizard Thundercat give Butterfly a loose, fluid undertow every bit as tempestuous and unpredictable as the army of flows at Kendrick’s disposal. The rapper’s branching out, too, exploding into spastic slam poetry on “For Free?,” switching from shouty gymnastics to drunken sobs on “U” and even effecting the lilt of a caring mother on “You Ain’t Gotta Lie (Momma Said).” It turns out Kendrick’s new direction was every direction at once.

Despite all this, he’s still toying with a narrative on the sly: Just beneath the surface lies a messianic yarn about avoiding the wiles of a sultry girl named Lucy who’s secretly a physical manifestation of the devil. Kendrick refuses to dole out blame without accepting any, however, and on the chaotic free jazz excursion “U” he turns a mirror on himself, screaming, “Loving you is complicated!” and suggesting his fame hasn’t helped his loved ones back home. Kendrick’s criticisms, as they did on Good Kid, come with powerful, self-imposed challenges. As Bilal quips on the chorus to “Institutionalized”: “Shit don’t change until you get up and wash your ass, nigga.”

Kendrick’s principle of personal responsibility has treaded dangerously close to respectability politics lately, especially after a prickly remark about the Mike Brown shooting in a recent Billboard interview that seemed to pin the death on the victim, but To Pimp a Butterfly avoids that trap. (Mostly.) “Complexion (A Zulu Love)” is a tender note of appreciation for women of all skin tones with help from North Carolina rapper Rapsody (whose slickly referential guest verse contains a nod to “Good and Bad Hair”). This is an album about tiny quality of life improvements to be made in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. It might not be the message we want in a year where systemic police and judicial inequality have cost many the ultimate price, but that doesn’t bankrupt it of value.

To Pimp a Butterfly pivots on the polarizing lead single, “I.” Upon release last autumn, the sunny soul pep talk came off lightweight and glib. When it appears deep in the back end of Butterfly, though, “I” plays less like the jingle we heard last year and more like the beating heart of the matter. To push the point, the album opts for a live-sounding mix that ditches out midway through, giving way to a speech from the rapper himself. In tone, the speech is not unlike the legendary 1968 concert where James Brown waved off security and personally held off a Boston audience’s fury after news broke that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated. “How many niggas we done lost, bro?” Kendrick shouts over the crowd. “It shouldn’t be shit for us to come out here and appreciate the little bit of life we got left.” Underneath the tragedy and adversity, To Pimp a Butterfly is a celebration of the audacity to wake up each morning to try to be better, knowing it could all end in a second, for no reason at all”.

The Verge were full of love and passion for Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly in 2015. Saluting Black America’s Poet Laurette, they had no notes. In the sense the album is perfect. Their observations are illuminating and thought-provoking. It is evident that this album has an incredible legacy. If you have not heard this album before then make sure you do right away:

To Pimp a Butterfly isn’t just another album, and Kendrick Lamar isn’t just another rapper. Kendrick is different. His first major label album, good kid, m.A.A.d city is one of the greatest rap albums of all time. The last two artists who debuted with albums that redefined the genre were Kanye West (The College Dropout) and Jay Z (Reasonable Doubt). Good kid, m.A.A.d city, was an autobiographical masterpiece that vocalized the struggle of growing up in dire circumstances in Compton and how it affected Kendrick’s perception of the world. It was brilliant and clever, a concept album that still told Kendrick’s "how I got here" story. He could have used the same blueprint for his second album. It worked once, and Kendrick is talented enough to make use of it again. Rappers rapping about their upbringing will never end, but Kendrick Lamar isn’t conventional in the least.

We knew Kendrick was going with a new concept for this album. It wasn’t going to be your traditional 808-laden, two-club-hits-and-a-love-song hip-hop album. But Kendrick was never that to begin with. It was going to be soulful — conscious as they say. He gave us "i" back in September, an uplifting track about self-love — there’s an updated (see: much better) version of "i" on the album that sampled The Isley Brothers. We got a taste of the new musical arrangements back in December on The Colbert Report when he performed an untitled song that if released would probably have been the best song of 2014 (it didn’t even make the album). Then we got the artwork for To Pimp a Butterfly. If the direction of the album wasn’t clear before, it was now. This is about to be some social commentary / Black Excellence music. I wasn’t scared that Kendrick would deliver a flop. I was afraid that he would only dip a toe into the pool of Black Excellence music, that he would hesitate to speak on social issues, or succumb to label pressure to provide a few radio-friendly records. He didn’t. Not one bit.

To Pimp a Butterfly is perfect. There’s no other adjective that can properly convey its greatness. To Pimp a Butterfly is an immaculate amalgamation of rap, jazz, funk, soul, and spoken word. It cannot be restricted by a single genre. It’s the latest evolution of Black Music, and it’s nothing short of genius. (Black Music, inhabited by the likes of Curtis Mayfield, James Brown, Prince, the Fugees, Andre 3000, and D’Angelo. A land where the natural barriers of music don’t exist. A place where the main goal is the advancement and protection of the culture.)

Crafted with a live band consisting of Bilal, Thundercat, Terrace Martin, and Anna Wise — all talented artists in their own right — To Pimp a Butterfly pulls no punches. The first track, "Wesley’s Theory" featuring George Clinton and Thundercat and produced by Flying Lotus sets the tone, opens with a sample of Boris Gardiner’s 1974 song "Every Nigger is a Star." On "Wesley’s Theory" Kendrick tackles consumerism and rampant debt that plagues black entertainers, something that he has (so far) seemingly avoided. Speaking first from the perspective of a young black musician forecasting his downfall into the trap of wealth and greed ("When I get signed, homie I'mma act a fool / Hit the dance floor, strobe lights in the room"), and then from the perspective of "Uncle Sam" who encourages him to buy everything on credit ("What you want you? / A house or a car? / Forty acres and a mule, a piano, a guitar? / Anything, see, my name is Uncle Sam on your dollar / Motherfucker you can live at the mall").

To Pimp a Butterfly succeeds D’Angelo’s Black Messiah as the most important album in black culture right now. In the face of Ferguson, police brutality, and widening economic disparity, Kendrick Lamar tackles social issues through music and does so exceptionally well. It’s a dark album for dark times, right in line with recent projects from Drake and Big Sean, but To Pimp a Butterfly is miles ahead of the competition in its quality and its message.

On "For Free", Kendrick employs spoken word with double and triple entendres better than Jay Z could ever dream of doing. The song is unbelievably complex. It can be interpreted as chastisement of America for its treatment of African Americans, or a Black Excellence anthem, or just as a fight with a girlfriend. It’s a true work of art whose meaning will be debated for years. "For Free" is To Pimp a Butterfly encapsulated in one song. There is no single definition of this album. There is no single genre. There is no single flow. It is unlike anything I’ve heard before.

"u," produced by Sounwave, is a direct contrast to the uplifting "i." Kendrick is speaking to himself, depressed and broken, repeating the hook 10 times ("Loving you is complicated"), and admonishing himself, despite his accomplishments. With "u" and "i," Kendrick depicts the struggle of expressing black self-love better than any artist has done in recent memory — the highs and lows, the inner joy, the self-hate, the bravado, the blame. Kendrick told Rolling Stone "u" was one of the toughest songs he’d ever written. "There [are] some very dark moments in there. All my insecurities and selfishness and letdowns. That shit is depressing as a motherfucker. But it helps, though. It helps." Sequencing is crucial on To Pimp a Butterfly— right after "u" we get the anthemic "Alright" to pull us out of the doldrums. And that it does.

Even though it’s not an album designed for a wide audience ("I’m not talking to people from the suburbs. I’m talking as somebody who’s been snatched out of cars and had rifles pointed at me," Kendrick told The New York Times), To Pimp a Butterfly has wide appeal, thanks to the excellent beats and production that inject energy into consequential records. The funky bass line turns deep records like "King Kunta" into party songs. "Alright," produced by Pharrell Williams, is a certified hit rap-along. The jazzy "Complexion (A Zulu Love)" featuring Rapsody will make your grandmother shimmy, even with its powerful lyrics ("Dark as the midnight hour, I'm bright as the mornin' sun / Brown skinned, but your blue eyes tell me your mama can't run").

To Pimp a Butterfly is the best album of the 21st century, the best hip-hop album since Notorious B.I.G.’s Ready to Die and Nas’ Illmatic in 1994, and it cements Kendrick Lamar’s spot as an all-time great. Those whispered conversations about Kendrick’s spot in hip-hop history can begin in earnest. The last artist who debuted with two classic albums was Notorious B.I.G. That’s where we’re at. That’s where Kendrick Lamar has brought us”.

The immediate impact of To Pimp a Butterfly is explored in this Wikipedia article. The fact that it is inspired artists like David Bowie shows how powerful and important it was. An album, as mentioned, that it is still relevant. The world not learning from Kendrick Lamar’s words. I hope tenth anniversary retrospective leads to cultural and political change:

The album's immediate influence was felt as "a pantheon for racial empowerment", according to Butler, who also argued that the record helped create a respected space for conscious hip-hop and "will be revered not just at the top of some list at the end of the year, but in the subconscious of music fans for decades to come". Writing for Highsnobiety, Robert Blair said, "[To Pimp a Butterfly] is the crystallized moment in time where Kendrick became a generation's most potent artistic voice.” Uproxx journalist Aaron Williams said the album "proved that left-field, experimental rap can function in both the critical and commercial realms". Jazz saxophonist Kamasi Washington said that the album "changed music, and we're still seeing the effects of it [...] [the album] meant that intellectually stimulating music doesn't have to be underground. It just didn't change the music. It changed the audience." To Pimp a Butterfly was an influence on David Bowie's 2016 album Blackstar. As its producer Tony Visconti recalled, he and Bowie were "listening to a lot of Kendrick Lamar [...] we loved the fact Kendrick was so open-minded and he didn't do a straight-up hip-hop record. He threw everything on there, and that's exactly what we wanted to do

I am going to finish off in a minute. I wanted to highlight this Rolling Stone review. The Compton-born MC’s second major label album is full of “fiery outrage, deep jazz and ruthless self-critique”. Without doubt one of the best albums of the 2010s. Some might say Kendrick Lamar reached the same peak on 2017’s DAMN. and 2024’s GNX:

Hashtag this one Portrait of the Artist as a Manchild in the Land of Broken Promises. Thanks to D’Angelo’s Black Messiah and Kendrick Lamar‘s To Pimp a Butterfly, 2015 will be remembered as the year radical Black politics and for-real Black music resurged in tandem to converge on the nation’s pop mainstream. Malcolm X said our African ancestors didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us. The cover of Lamar’s second major-label LP flips that maxim with a fantasia of bare-chested young hoodrocks flashing cash and booze on the White House grounds, Amerikkka’s Most Unwanted victoriously swarming a toppled symbol of pale-skinned patriarchy.

The party begins in earnest with George Clinton’s blessings and bassist Thundercat’s love for Bootsy Collins. “Wesley’s Theory” is a disarming goof that’s also a lament for the starry-eyed innocence lost to all winners of the game show known as Hip-Hop Idol. “Gather your wind, take a deep look inside,” Clinton says. “Are you really who they idolize?” Lamar’s got plenty of jokes and jeremiads to launch at himself, us and those malevolent powers that be. “I want you to recognize that I’m a proud monkey,” he raps later on. “You vandalize my perception, but can’t take style from me.”

He’s also made hella room for live jazz improv on this furthermucker, from the celestial keys of virtuoso pianist Robert Glasper to the horns of Terrace Martin and Kamasi Washington to Thundercat’s low end. Black Musicians Matter majorly here – their well-tempered orchestral note-worrying a consistent head-nod toward Sun Ra, which producers including Flying Lotus and Lamar’s right-hand Sounwave smush into a lush volcanic riverbed of harmonic cunning and complexity. Only a lyricist of Lamar’s skills, scope, poetics and polemics would dare hop aboard it and dragon-glide. His virtuosic slam-poetic romp across bebop blues changes on “For Free?” harkens back to LA’s Freestyle Fellowship.

Clearly, this is Lamar’s moment to remake rap in his own blood-sick image. If we’re talking insurgent content and currency, Lamar straight up owns rap relevancy on Butterfly, whatever challengers to the throne barely visible in his dusty rear-view. He relishes and crushes the gift he’s been handed by CNN in the national constabulary’s now weekly-reported racist tactics, 21st-century apartheid American style: “It’s a new gang in town, from Compton to Congress/…Ain’t nothing new but a flow of new Demo-Crips and Re-Blood-licans.” This tactic is nowhere more resonant than on the studio-rigged beyond-the-grave convo with 2Pac he conjures up on ”Mortal Man,” letting Pac deliver the album’s most-fatalist mad-prophetic zinger: ”Next time it’s a riot, there’s gonna be bloodshed for real. . .I think America thinks we was just playing, but it’s gonna be murder. . .like Nat Turner 1831 up in this muthafucka.”

But Lamar’s own fears of assuming a messiah position are upfront and personal. “I been wrote off before, I got abandonment issues,” he says on “Mortal Man.” “How many leaders you said you needed then left ’em for dead?/Is it Moses, is it Huey Newton, or Detroit Red?” You can imagine Chuck D or Dead Prez going in as hard and witty against white supremacy as Lamar does on “The Blacker the Berry” and “King Kunta” – but you can’t picture them exposing the vulnerability, doubt and self-loathing swag heard on ”Complexion (A Zulu Love),” “u,” “For Sale?” and “i.” What makes Lamar’s bully pulpit more akin to Curtis Mayfield’s or Gil Scott Heron’s than any protest MC before him is the heart worn on his hoodie’s sleeves”.

I am going to end up by quoting heavily from a 2020 retrospective feature from High Snobiety. They wrote about how Kendrick Lamar’s masterpiece changed music, culture and lives. Go and invest some time in this album today. It is such a moving and unforgettable listen:

The beginning of 2015 was a transitionary period for hip-hop. As much of the East Coast’s new breed mourned A$AP YAMS, Pro Era’s Joey Bada$$ was coming of age on his major label debut. Heading southward, internal conflict between Lil Wayne and Birdman became public knowledge, while Young Money’s golden child Drake racked up another triumph with If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late.

Amid these tremulous events, and with Big Sean’s Dark Sky Paradise holding court at the top of the charts, a crucial component of what made the genre vital was missing. Previously defined by Chuck D as “black America’s CNN,” most of the biggest hip-hop albums in recent years had felt apolitical or, at worst, consciously apathetic.

Lacking its informative might, hip-hop’s retreat from the frontlines of social discourse was incongruous at a time when Black Lives Matter’s hashtag activism and police brutality demonstrations had reached a fever pitch. Overrun by triviality and self-obsession, relief would come in March 2015, courtesy of a Compton-born artist who used his platform as his forebears had intended. Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly arrived with the force of a sledgehammer, remaining just as (if not more) impactful now as it did on first arrival.

“I started this album already knowing what I wanted to talk about, just based off the idea of feeling like you’re being pimped and manuevered in the industry,” Lamar reflected to MTV. “Thinking ‘how can I make that something positive for my community?’ As I’m doing this, all these events are happening. Trayvon, Ferguson… I couldn’t write these songs after these events, it’s too intricate.”

Rather than mimicking the formula that had taken him from obscurity to superstardom with Good Kid M.A.A.D City, Kendrick funneled his energy into crafting a musically and thematically rich project which surveyed a crumbling society and all of its grotesque, systemic ills.

Nowadays, most albums are ingested by their intended audience before being discarded to the wayside. Routinely overloaded with material in order to flood the market and maximize streaming revenue, everything from Drake's Scorpion to Migos' Culture II has lived and died on the strength of name recognition as opposed to a clearly-defined sense of purpose. Yet in the case of Kendrick’s enthralling Butterfly, the project has refracted in so many directions over the past five years that its allure and central message has only magnified with time.

No enduring piece of artistry was made without a degree of risk. But when it came to the musicality of Butterfly, Lamar threw caution to the wind like few before or since. Dabbling with horns and other brassy inflections on both his breakout mixtape Section 80 and Good Kid M.A.A.D City, Kendrick renounced the relative safety of the 808-laden bombast that defined his work in favor of a sound that more closely resembled the former project’s "Ab-Soul Outro." A fusion of hip-hop and jazz orchestrated by Terrace Martin, it was this decorated multi-instrumentalist who first acknowledged Kendrick’s unconscious tendencies.

“He was like, man, a lot of the chords that you pick are jazz-influenced,” Lamar told GQ. “You don't understand: You a jazz musician by default... he just started breaking down everything, the science, going back to Miles, Herbie Hancock.”

Incorporating dashes of blues, soul, funk and spoken word, Butterfly’s emphasis on eclecticism culminated in a sound that essentially doubled as a whistle-stop tour through the history of black music in America. After unveiling The Isley Brothers-sampling, self-love anthem "i" as a prelude to the album, Ron Isley and Kendrick discussed “the experiences his mother had with our records” that wouldd pave the way for his contribution to the sorrowful album-cut "How Much a Dollar Cost?"

Meanwhile, another icon was forced to place his preconceived biases aside while at work on the project. Before providing an uproarious vocal on the Flying Lotus-produced “Wesley’s Theory," P-Funk originator George Clinton had only heard Good Kid’s "Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe" and thought "it sounded silly as hell.” After grasping Kendrick’s vision, his perception changed, stating “he was saying things in brand new metaphors that I knew was going to fuck people up.” Operating in a reciprocal space between genres, time periods, and demographics, this intersectionality would be key in sculpting both the album as well as the diverging branches of its legacy.

“[Butterfly] changed music, and we’re still seeing the effects of it,” proclaimed Lamar-collaborator turned jazz titan Kamasi Washington. “It meant that intellectually stimulating music doesn’t have to be underground. It just didn’t change the music. It changed the audience."

By enlisting virtuosos who were “as fluent in J Dilla and Dr. Dre as in Mingus and Coltrane,” Butterfly uplifted the careers of those who aided in its inception while simultaneously broadening the scope of what modern hip-hop can co-mingle with. Prior to Butterfly’s arrival, the swell in non-specialized engagement with jazz that precipitated Washington’s instant notoriety on 2015's The Epic wouldn’t have been imaginable, while Rapsody’s verse on "Complexion (A Zulu Love)" had a similar effect in plucking the Carolina MC from obscurity. Now revered as a generational great, she’s been candid with DJ Booth about how “everything snowballed” after she accepted the summons from K-Dot.

 PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images/Scott Dudelson

Enlisted as both a musical focal point and a welcome flourish throughout, no one reaped the rewards of their toil on Butterfly quite like Thundercat. “Pretty much on the entire album,” the presence of his bass at the heart of the project raised his profile to such an extent that 2017’s Drunk peaked 144 chart places higher than his previous albums. On a personal level, the profound effect the album had on him far outweighed any success that it’s yielded since: “I just broke down in tears when I got home after hearing it,” Thundercat recalled. “So much information was passed and conveyed... There wasn’t a misfire. Everybody put their best work forward, and you could feel it, I think.”

As we now know, this was an understatement on his part. Rather than just feeling it, Butterfly became a conduit through which the disenfranchised and grief-stricken contextualized their own experiences. No where was this more evident than the liberating refrain of "Alright." Essentially a "The Times They Are a-Changin'" for the era of Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, and Alton Sterling, it became a familiar rallying cry at Black Lives Matter demonstrations, as well as emanating from speakers in suburbs and section-8 housing alike. Unsurprised by its resonance, Kendrick felt that the song’s jubilant tone amid such injustice tapped into an ancestral coping mechanism.

“Four hundred years ago, as slaves, we prayed and sang joyful songs to stay level-headed with what was going on," Lamar told NPR. “We still need that music to heal. And I think that 'Alright' is definitely one of those records."

Defiant and rousing yet quietly cognizant of the uphill battles that still need to be waged, "Alright" isn’t a piece of music so much as a public service announcement appealing for calm amid a time of crisis. A record that he was “sitting on” for six months after Pharrell crafted the now iconic instrumental, Kendrick’s cultural presence grew alongside the track and, in turn, allowed him to understand how its power surpassed all traditional barometers for a ‘hit’ song.

Tackling hypocrisy, drug abuse, societal entrapment, mental health, imposter syndrome, and Demo-Crips & Re-Blood-licans across the project’s immersive hour-plus runtime, To Pimp a Butterfly was rightly awarded the Grammys that had previously eluded him, and it was instrumental in informing David Bowie’s final album Blackstar. Yet while the late icon and producer Tony Visconti strived to “avoid rock & roll,” Butterfly wasn’t born of some self-congratulatory whim to stretch artistic horizons. Instead, it aimed to expand minds and empower those who had borne the brunt of this uncaring and hostile world”.

On 15th March, it will be ten years since Kendrick Lamar released To Pimp a Butterfly. I am interested to see how the music press writes about this album ahead of the anniversary. New context and meaning. Still relevant and always influential. The supreme and mesmeric To Pimp a Butterfly

A flawless album.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: Kate Bush and the Album Overlap

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in December 1979

 

Kate Bush and the Album Overlap

_________

THERE is this trend…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in a promotional photo for 2011’s Director’s Cut/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

that occurred through Kate Bush’s career that interests me. I have written about it before, but 1978 was a year when Kate Bush was promoting The Kick Inside and also working on her follow-up, Lionheart. Album overlap occurred for quite a while. In 1978, it was very much EMI putting pressure on. This commercial drive to capitalise on the success of The Kick Inside. It was a shame that Bush was not afforded time to properly write for her second album. Instead, she was being pulled around the world promoting and had only a short amount of time to do any preparation for Lionheart. I think The Tour of Life in 1979 was a chance for Kate Bush to (briefly) break this circuit. Rather than being pushed straight into a third album and promoting that heavily and then doing another one, Bush went on tour. It gave her chance to do something that she had control over. However, once she started work on her third studio album, 1980’s Never for Ever, there was to be this period of overlap again. I do wonder whether Bush was keen to be in the studio and was excited to do the albums or there was this pressure to keep momentum going. A particularly busy and difficult period came during 1980. I do think there was a very deliberate decision after 1982 to take longer working on albums. Bush was working on The Dreaming (released in 1982) before Never for Ever was released in 1980. Working at her farm studio in August 1980, Bush was starting in earnest this ambitious fourth studio album. A month later, she would release her third studio album. One can see parallels between 1978 and 1980. Either side of The Tour of Life, Bush was recording albums whilst promoting the previous one. In 1980, Never for Ever came out and saw Bush promote widely and prominently. It was a hectic time. Also, whilst she was managing promotion, she was in the studio putting together the first steps for The Dreaming!

It was not the case that Bush was promoting endlessly and did not get any time off. She did have breaks. However, when she did have breaks, she was working on The Dreaming. If 1978 was a year when the label were almost making Bush record a new album whilst still promoting her debut, perhaps Bush felt that she needed to have this overlap in 1980. The last time she would overlap with her albums and have two projects in her head at the same time was in 2011. I shall come to that. I think about Kate Bush in 1980 and that juggling act. Keeping The Kick Inside alive and talked about as 1978 ended but also having to promote Lionheart. Effectively recording her second album shortly after promoting her debut. Barely any period in the middle. In 1980, Never for Ever was out and it would be in the public consciousness until the following year. What Bush was creating for The Dreaming was very different to what was on Never for Ever. If the 1978 overlap was strange because of the heaviness of promotion and rushing a second album, Bush was in a different headspace through 1980 and 1981. Two very different albums in different parts of her brain. I have talked about this before, so apologies for any repetition. Think about the late stages of 1980 through to 1981. Bush had this success from Never for Ever (it reached number one in the U.K.) and there were single releases and promotion. At the same time, she was leaping to a new plain. Producing solo for the first time, the recording for The Dreaming would be more intense than it was for Never for Ever. Even so, it would have been difficult trying to create something new whilst still talking about your current studio album. In 1981, the Sunday Telegraph published an opinion poll where Bush was deemed the ‘most liked’ and ‘least liked’ British female singer. If it weren’t enough that she was balancing disparate and eclectic albums and also promotion and new recording, she also was in a position where she seemed to be loved by half the popular and disliked by the other!

1979 was a chance for Bush to perform live and find time away from promotion. There were new fans in her camp after that who made Never for Ever a success. However, there still was a feeling that Bush was this odd and divisive artist. I know that is one opinion poll, but all these emotions must have been running through her head. There was a period when Bush experienced writer’s block. It is not surprising when you consider how intense things were and how she didn’t have chance to focus on anything particular. Spread too thin maybe. She did get rid of that block when she saw Stevie Wonder in London and she then wrote Sat in Your Lap. That was the first single released from The Dreaming and it came out in 1981 – a year before the album arrived. However, the more I think about album overlapping and Bush not having too much time to detach, the label once more comes to mind. I have painted EMI as a villain in a number of features. It is unfair considering the money they put behind her and how they stuck with her. A lack of commercial success from The Dreaming’s singles might have been a disaster for any other artist.  Bush released Hounds of Love in 1985 and this huge wave of critical acclaim greeted it. Bush knew her own music and knew what was best for her. Moments where she was at odds with the label about various release but proven right. However, when it came to keeping her in the public eye, she did not have that much leverage. A hot new wave of exciting female Pop artists were coming through in 1980 and 1981. Kim Wilde and Altered Image’s Clare Grogan for instance. Nervousness that Bush released an album in September 1980 and a year later no new album. Sat in Your Lap was a chart success and a big departure from anything she had done before. Perhaps my feature should be about Bush competing with artists around her. EMI wanted albums out so they could make money and could keep this artist in their charge. However, there was this sense of rivalry and competition.

If other artists were scoring big chart hits and were in magazines and on T.V., Bush was in the studio working on an album that seemed to be the antithesis of the mainstream Pop sound. Songs that would not grace the radio playlists too much! Bush did take the odd break during The Dreaming’s creation and release. You get the feeling she never truly relaxed or could find peace. The media asking where she was and writing her off. The public divided about whether they loved or hated her. 1978 was an intense period because Bush was new and juggling two albums. Things were different in 1980 and 1981. With a third album out and Bush expected to talk about it, she was also spending days off and evenings putting together a fourth album. That intense year of 1981 when Bush was just about clear of Never for Ever and The Dreaming was very much at the forefront of her mind. 1983 and 1984 was a chance to recharge and change. No album overlap. She would focus on her fifth studio album. Because Bush could focus and work on one project without having to promote another album, Hounds of Love is this extraordinary work that Bush put her all into. The artist taking longer to release albums. Three years between The Dreaming and Hounds of Love. Four years between Hounds of Love and The Sensual World; another four before 1993’s The Red Shoes. At each stage, there were these media pieces and polls. Where Bush was and whether she had retired. Trying to create an album and make it as good as possible but also this feeling that she was invisible. Scandals and rumours printed. It would have been a struggle for her. One could say that albums overlapping meant that Bush had some energy and momentum from the previous album and bring it straight into a new one. Without much time to stop and rest, she could keep the creative juices running. Longer gaps followed. Bush not keen to pump albums out or balance two different projects. She would have to again in 2011. However, this was very much her decision. Kate Bush re-recording songs from The Sensual World and The Red Shoes for Director’s Cut. That came in May 2011. Bush talking about that album at the same time she was recording and finishing up 50 Words for Snow. That came out in November 2011. It was another year like 1978 or 1980, however the stakes were different and the situation not the sane.

I wanted to focus on this fascinating subject. Album overlapping. I didn’t really consider the reasons why Bush was expected to do this. The larger culture of the 1970s and 1980s. Especially for a female artist, that pressure to do more than their male counterparts to be seen and heard. This sense of rivalry and relevance. A first professional year where Bush was trying to put a second studio album together but still promoting her debut. 1980 and 1981 saw overlap. A third album promise with a fourth being recorded. 2011 found Bush revisiting the past and updating older songs whilst also working on a tenth studio album that was vastly different to Director’s Cut. Parallels with 1980 in terms of two vastly differing albums being promoted/recorded. I don’t think we can rule out another album overlap or period where Bush works on two albums at the same time. I never really considered the factors behind albums overlapping and whether it was largely label pressure or a case of Bush having to prove herself. If this sort of promotional/recording cycle benefitted her in the long run or was detrimental. I can appreciate a label being unhappy with an artist taking a few years to follow up on an album with another. However, it must have been very strange in 1978, 1980, 1981 and even 1982 with Bush never truly being able to hone in and concentrate on a single album. She was dragged back down again in 2011. Having to accomplish this balancing act and, in the process, two very dissimilar albums in her head. Look at everything Kate Bush has achieved and one cannot say confidently that if her early career was conducted differently when it came to expectations and recording albums then she would have been better off. However, I do think of Kate Bush back then and even in 2011. Whether led by a label or her own desire to satisfy fans and herself, it is interesting to imagine how…

DIFFERENT things could have been.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Peter Gabriel at Seventy-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

PHOTO CREDIT: Nadav Kander

 

Peter Gabriel at Seventy-Five

_________

I am looking forward to…

 PHOTO CREDIT: Nadav Kander

13th February. That is when Peter Gabriel turns seventy-five. One of music’s giants, I am a big fan of his. I am going to end this feature with a playlist mixing hits and deep cuts. I know I have compiled a Peter Gabriel playlist before but I want to do another one. It will include songs from his recent album, 2023’s i/o. Before getting to a mixtape, AllMusic have provided a detailed biography of a music innovator. Someone who is still so far ahead of other artists. Let hope there are more albums from Gabriel in the future:

Peter Gabriel combines the theatricality of his time as the leader of Genesis in the early '70s with widely appealing sounds and songwriting, making him an international star with the credibility of a cult hero. With his eponymous debut solo album in 1977, he explored dark, cerebral territory, incorporating avant-garde, electronic, and worldbeat influences into his music. The record, as well as its two similarly titled successors, established Gabriel as a critically acclaimed solo artist, and with 1982's Security, he began to move into the mainstream; "Shock the Monkey" became his first Top 40 hit, paving the way for his breakthrough So in 1986. Accompanied by a series of groundbreaking videos and the number one single "Sledgehammer," So became a multi-platinum hit. Instead of capitalizing on his sudden success, Gabriel founded the Real World label, which proved an invaluable channel for international artists of every stripe to ply their trade. All this and his shepherding of political causes such as Amnesty International gained him a reputation as a true nobleman of the pop world, a role he has continued to fill well into the 21st century, as he worked on i/o, his eighth album of original material that finally appeared in 2023, 21 years after Up.

Following his departure from Genesis in 1976, Peter Gabriel began work on the first of three consecutive eponymously titled albums; each record was named Peter Gabriel, he said, as if they were editions of the same magazine. In 1977, his first solo album appeared and became a moderate success due to the single "Solsbury Hill." Another self-titled record followed in 1978, yet received comparatively weaker reviews. Gabriel's third eponymous album proved to be his artistic breakthrough, however. Produced by Steve Lillywhite and released in 1980, the record established Gabriel as one of rock's most ambitious, innovative musicians, as well as one of its most political -- "Biko," a song about a murdered anti-apartheid activist, became one of the biggest protest anthems of the '80s. "Games Without Frontiers," with its eerie chorus, nearly reached the Top 40.

In 1982, Gabriel released Security, which was an even bigger success, earning positive reviews and going gold on the strength of the startling video for "Shock the Monkey." Just as his solo career was taking off, Gabriel participated in a one-shot Genesis reunion in order to finance his WOMAD -- World of Music, Arts and Dance -- Festival. WOMAD was designed to bring various world musics and customs to a Western audience, and it soon turned into an annual event, and a live double album was released that year to commemorate the event. As Gabriel worked on his fifth album, he contributed the soundtrack to Alan Parker's 1984 film Birdy. His score was highly praised and it won the Grand Jury Prize at Cannes that year. After founding Real World, Inc. -- a corporation devoted to developing bridges between technology and multi-ethnic arts -- in 1985, he completed his fifth album, So.

Released in 1986, So became Gabriel's commercial breakthrough, largely because his Stax homage "Sledgehammer" was blessed with an innovative video that combined stop-action animation with live action. So climbed to number two as "Sledgehammer" hit number one, with "Big Time" -- featuring a video very similar to "Sledgehammer" -- reaching the Top Ten and "In Your Eyes" hitting the Top 30. As So was riding high on the American and British charts, Gabriel co-headlined the first benefit tour for Amnesty International in 1986 with Sting and U2. Another Amnesty International Tour followed in 1988, and the following year, Gabriel released Passion: Music for The Last Temptation of Christ, a collection of instrumentals used in Martin Scorsese's film. Passion was the furthest Gabriel delved into worldbeat, and the album was widely acclaimed, winning the Grammy Award in 1989 for Best New Age Performance. In 1990, he released the hits compilation Shaking the Tree.

Gabriel labored long on the pop music follow-up to So, finally releasing Us in the spring of 1992. During the recording of Us, Gabriel went through a number of personal upheavals, including a painful divorce, and those tensions manifested themselves on Us, a much darker record than So. For various reasons, not the least of which was the fact that it was released six years after its predecessor, Us wasn't as commercially successful as So, despite positive reviews. Only one single, the "Sledgehammer" knockoff "Steam," reached the Top 40, and the album stalled at platinum sales. In 1993, Gabriel embarked on the most ambitious WOMAD tour to date, touring the United States with a roster including Crowded HouseJames, and Sinéad O'Connor, with whom he had an on-off romantic relationship. The following year, he released the double-disc Secret World Live, which went gold. Later in 1994, he released the CD-R Xplora, one of many projects he developed with Real World. For the rest of the decade, Gabriel concentrated on developing more multimedia projects for the company and working on a new studio album.

Up was released in 2002, a full decade after Gabriel's last studio effort. Dense, cerebral, and often difficult, the record peaked at number nine but failed to sell well in America. It fared slightly better in Canada, where it went gold. He then turned his attention to a host of different projects, although the release of Big Blue Ball -- a compilation of collaborative performances recorded at Real World Studios during the '90s -- helped placate fans while Gabriel focused his energies elsewhere. He eventually returned to the studio for another album, 2010's Scratch My Back, which featured orchestral covers of songs originally performed by RadioheadArcade FirePaul SimonDavid Bowie, and others. Gabriel uncharacteristically delivered the sequel to Scratch My Back quickly, releasing New Blood -- a collection of orchestral reinterpretations of his own songs -- in the fall of 2011. The following year, Gabriel held a lavish celebration of the 25th anniversary of So, releasing several deluxe editions of the record -- the largest being a four-CD, two-DVD, two-vinyl box -- and launching the Back to Front tour, where he played So in its entirety.

In 2014, Gabriel was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame as a solo act, joining Genesis, which had been inducted four years earlier. He also released the concert album Back to Front: Live in London that year. Gabriel rounded up a bunch of his stray songs in 2019 via the compilations Rated PG and Flotsam and Jetsam; the former contained songs he gave to films, the latter focused on B-sides and non-LP tracks. After a 2022 appearance on the Blue Note-issued Leonard Cohen tribute Here It Is, Gabriel kicked off 2023 with "Panopticon," the first single from his next studio album, i/o, an outing he began in the early 2000s not long after the release of Up. Over the course of two decades, Gabriel steadily worked on the record, taking the occasional break to pursue other projects or tend to personal affairs. He finally finished the 12 songs comprising i/o in early 2022, then spent the course of 2023 doling out the tracks as a series of singles while touring the material all before the December release of the full album”.

As Peter Gabriel is seventy-five on 13th February, I have put together a mixtape of many of his best-known songs and deeper cuts. There are few artists quite like Gabriel. This mixtape will show that. From his early eponymous albums through to his most recent album, the music on display shows that Peter Gabriel is…

A true genius.

FEATURE: Line Up: Elastica at Thirty

FEATURE:

 

 

Line Up


Elastica at Thirty

_________

ON 13th March…

it will be thirty years since Elastica released their phenomenal debut album. Elastica was nominated for the 1995 Mercury Prize. Hitting number one on the U.K. album chart, it was, at the time, the fastest-selling debut album since Oasis’ Definitely Maybe (1994). Come the end of 1995, Elastica had sold approximately one million copies worldwide. The album was a big success in the U.S. About half of the million sales were from the U.S. I am going to get to a few reviews of Elastica. Prior to that I want to bring in an NME feature from 2016. They provided the full story of Elastica’s phenomenal self-titled debut:

The token girl playing guitar in the back”: that’s how a fed-up Justine Frischmann described her stint in Suede, the band she’d formed with then-boyfriend Brett Anderson in 1989. At personal loggerheads with Anderson after she left him for his arch-rival, Blur’Damon Albarn, she formed her own group in 1992 with drummer Justin Welch (another early Suede outcast), bassist Annie Holland and guitarist Donna Matthews. That may all sound like a Britpop version of EastEnders, but Elastica soon proved they had something far more substantial to offer. The succinct punchiness of early singles ‘Stutter’, ‘Line Up’ and ‘Connection’ quickly turned heads – ex-NME journo Steve Lamacq, in particular, began championing them on his BBC Radio 1 show and signed them to his label, Deceptive Records.

The story behind the sleeve

Renowned German fashion photographer Juergen Teller, who has worked with artists including Sinéad O’Connor, Björk and Elton John, took the black-and-white snap for Elastica’s debut – a cover that, with its sparse, sparing style, stood apart from the elaborate and conceptual sleeves favoured by Blur and Suede.

Did you know?

1. Now-defunct music paper Melody Maker ran a competition asking fans to name Elastica’s debut LP, but reader’s suggestions – including ‘Edible Liar’ and ‘Tie Me Up And Give Me Toast’ – were all rejected by the band.

2. Another title, ‘Keys, Money And Fags’ – a lyric from ‘Line Up’ – was also nixed due to fears that American fans would have a different interpretation of the word ‘fags’.

3. Damon Albarn contributed keyboards to ‘Elastica’, but the band chose not to credit him with his real name – the pseudonym Dan Abnormal was used instead.

4. Donna Matthews has claimed that the mysterious acronym of the track ‘SOFT’ stands for ‘Same Old Fucking Things’.

5. The Stranglers and Wire took issue with Elastica’s debut: Wire claimed that both ‘Line Up’ and ‘Connection’ ripped them off, while The Stranglers alleged that ‘Waking Up’ borrowed from ‘No More Heroes’. Both bands received out-of-court settlements as a result of the legal disputed.

Lyric analysis

“My heart’s spaghetti junction/Every shining bonnet/ Makes me think of my back on it” – ‘Car Song’

Justine’s saucy, JG Ballard-style tribute to getting steamy in motor vehicles.

“Drivel head knows all the stars/Loves to suck their shining guitars” – ‘Line Up’

Having been in the orbit of both Blur and Suede, Justine was no stranger to groupies. Here, she takes a pot shot at those fans desperate to cop off with a musician.

“We were sitting in waiting/ And I told you my plan/ You were far too busy writing/ Words that didn’t scan” – ‘Never Here’

This was reportedly written about Frischmann’s split with Anderson, taking a vengeful sideswipe at his songwriting.

What we said then

“Fun, loveable and exciting, Elastica’s debut burps out of the speakers like a pissed kid on a spacehopper.” Johnny Dee, NME, March 3, 1995

What we say now

It deserves to be celebrated just as much as Britpop contemporaries like ‘Different Class’, ‘Definitely Maybe’, ‘Dog Man Star’ and ‘Modern Life Is Rubbish’: punchy and acidic, full of catchy-as-fuck singles and not an ounce of fat.

In their own words

“I think we’ve made a record you can put on from start to finish without feeling like you want to kick the cat. You could put it on as you’re going out, before you go to sleep or when you’re having sex.” – Justine Frischmann, 1995

The aftermath

Momentum can be squandered far more easily can it can be gained. Just ask Elastica: after the success of their debut, they took their sweet time to make a follow-up. Matthews and Holland both split before the record was released, and the rest of the band decided to re-record all the material in 1999 (with new contributions from The Fall’s Mark E Smith and Damon Albarn again). By the time the patchy ‘The Menace’ was released in 2000, the Britpop bubble had long burst. The band amicably called it a day the following year, and Frischmann turned her back on music to become a visual artist in the US”.

It is amazing to think that Elastica came out on the same day as Radiohead’s second studio album, The Bends. What a day that was for record buyers back in March 1995! Although they are very different albums, they are among the best of one of the best years for music ever. I am going to move to a feature from Stereogum that marked twenty years of a classic debut back in 2015:

It’s oddly appropriate that Elastica’s self-titled debut came out on the same day as The Bends, Radiohead’s classic sophomore album. Those two records represent opposite sides of British rock in the mid-’90s. The Radiohead of The Bends was a sober band, one that took itself seriously. They played big, longing, starry-eyed melodies over layered guitars, and their sound was vast and layered and complex. They were still very much a rock band at the time, but they were drawing on prog and postpunk and shoegaze and dream-rock — the most elliptical sounds rock had to offer, basically. You could never be quite sure what Thom Yorke was singing about. And the band held themselves somewhat aloof from the Britpop explosion that was happening far away from their Oxford hometown. Elastica, meanwhile, were the opposite in just about every way. They were hard and pointed and just mercilessly hooky. Their songs were short, sharp shocks. They used guitars and keyboards as stabbing instruments. They probably owned a lot of the same postpunk records as Radiohead owned, but they took different things away from them. It wasn’t that hard to tell what Justine Frischmann was singing about; “Car Song,” for example, was about fucking in a car. And they were all up in the Britpop scene; Frischmann and drummer Justin Welch were defectors from Suede, and Frischmann, at the time, was dating Blur’s Damon Albarn, who played keyboards, under an alias, on the Elastica album. They were a beautiful, gleaming hook machine. And, sure, The Bends is a better album. But it’s closer than you think.

Elastica, amazingly enough, has not aged at all since it came out 20 years ago, possibly because it already seemed perfectly out-of-time the moment it arrived. There was a bit of dance-pop in the synths on the album, especially on the big single “Connection,” but they were mostly utterly uninterested in sounding like they belonged in 1995. Instead, they were a streamlined, weaponized version of a British band from that circa-1979 era where postpunk was turning into new wave. The sounds all come, sometimes directly, from that era, but they’re not weighed down with political struggle or cultural angst. Even at the band’s most psychedelic and furthest-out — the half-acoustic murmur “Company,” say — everything exists to serve the hook. Elastica is one of those albums that sounds like a greatest-hits collection right out of the gate — which is appropriate enough, since the band wouldn’t do much after its release. It’s a giddy 38-minute burst of wound-up guitars and dizzy melody and ice-cold snarl. And right now, off the top of my head, I can’t think of a big major-label alt-rock record that’s been as purely fun.

Elastica were rip-off artists, of course, and they had to pay piles of cash in out-of-court settlements as a result. Wire pointed out, quite rightly, that the central riff in “Connection” was a bald and direct bite from their own 1977 song “Three Girl Rumba,” while “Line Up” has a suspiciously similar chorus to Wire’s 1978 single “I Am The Fly.” The Stranglers got in on it, too, noting that “Waking Up” was distinctly similar to their 1977 single “No More Heroes.” This wasn’t a “Blurred Lines”/Marvin Gaye situation; these songs were direct and provable bites. But in every one of those situations, Elastica improved on their source material. They stole melodic elements, but they made those melodic elements harder and meaner and more direct. They aimed those melodic elements straight at the pop-music jugular. “Three Girl Rhumba” and “I Am The Fly” are great songs, but even peak-era Wire couldn’t take those riffs and hooks the places that Elastica could. For example, word got around in my high school that you could play the “Connection” riff on a touchtone phone: 3-233-3-233-3-233-6-322. (Try it! It sort of works!) Nobody was saying that about the “Three Girl Rhumba” riff, even though it’s the exact same riff. And none of the bands from the Wire/Stranglers era could work up a shimmy as sprightly as the one on “Hold Me Now,” the Elastica song that was a crush-mixtape staple of mine for years.

If Elastica had gone away forever after Elastica, it would’ve been one of the all-time great pop-history one-and-dones. They almost did. They made videos for five of the album’s 15 songs, and they served as token Brits on that summer’s Lollapalooza tour. (I saw their set, but I don’t remember anything about it, possibly because I was preoccupied with the urgent need to get high before Cypress Hill came on.) As soon as they got home from that tour, they went through a chaotic years-long series of lineup changes and personal issues and false-start recording sessions. In 2000, they finally got around to releasing their flop of a sophomore album, The Menace, which flirted with electroclash and which was pretty good but nowhere near as good as their debut. A year later, they broke up forever. These days, Frischmann is an abstract painter in the Bay Area. It’s hard to say they had any direct influence on the music that followed, since their own music was a distillation of its own influences. Savages has a similar visual aesthetic and set of influences, but they mine those influences for confrontational power, not for hooks. And even though SPIN called the Is This It-era Strokes the “male Elastica” in 2001, the comparison doesn’t really do justice to either band. (At their best, the Strokes were closer to being the male Go-Go’s, anyway.)

But Elastica’s influence does linger in some weird, indirect ways. For one thing, 13, one of Blur’s best albums, is entirely about Albarn’s painful breakup with Frischmann. As it happens, Albarn stopped trying to write punchy guitar-pop anthems at pretty much the exact time that he and Albarn split, and that can’t be a coincidence. Meanwhile, when Elastica toured North America behind The Menace, they brought along a young videographer named Maya Arulpragasam to document the tour. As this great Pitchfork piece points out, Frischmann would go onto become a sort of mentor to Arulpragasam, and together they made the squiggly bare-bones beat to what would become “Galang,” M.I.A.’ first single. There may not be a direct line of influence between Elastica and Arular, but the band did set in motion a few things that are still reverberating around pop music today. More importantly, though, they made one of the great mercenary guitar-pop albums of all time. Radiohead can claim a lot of victories, but they can’t claim that”.

In 2020, The Quietus looked back at Elastica’s debut twenty years after they released their second and final studio album, The Menace. After that 2000 album, that was it. It is important to look at the context of music in 1995. It was male-dominated and this tabloid era. One of laddishness and scandal. There were not many bands like Elastica around in 1995. Led by Justine Frischmann, she took her band into battle in a cultural that celebrated men and Offred sexism and misogyny to women:

I don’t think it’s possible to overstate just how grimly blokey culture was in the mid-1990s. For those of tQ’s readers who haven’t read my other articles on the matter, here we go again: the media loved Oasis’ cartoonishly boorish antics. Blur had sniffed the wind and followed them into a dull interpretation of provincial masculinity (as Frischmann would later say of Albarn, "I think for Damon it was about becoming a yob. Finding his football friends and becoming quite playful about it. Just starting to assume the character of the insensitive yob and letting that get you through"). Every Friday Chris Evans turned up on TFI Friday to take the piss out of celebs, humiliate his colleagues, and present a dismal train of live sets from bands of lads with guitars. There was the constant air that all the wazzocks were just desperate for post-Take That Robbie Williams to be gay, just so they could take the piss out of him. Against this, Elastica’s insouciant androgyny was a revelation. We had Jarvis Cocker, sure, but he was a sort of weird beacon of hope for the unconventionally attractive male. Suede of course, but for all the blurring of gender in Brett Anderson’s personae, they were still all men. Elastica had something else – I am probably not alone in buying their debut album in a lusty haze for the record sleeve. The Jurgen Teller photographs of three boyish women and a cute twinky lad on the cover and inside the booklet might not look revelatory in an age where gender fluidity is everywhere, but my God they were then.

Yet Elastica’s gender play was quite at odds with what was happening elsewhere in leftfield music at the time, with none of the rage of Huggy Bear, Hole or PJ Harvey. You could argue that ‘Line Up’s tale of a groupie called ‘Drivel Head’ who "knows all the stars / Loves to suck their shining guitars / They’ve all been right up her stairs" isn’t terribly sisterly. Similarly, Frischmann had little time for the Riot Grrrl movement, in a 1994 Vox interview saying that "I went to a couple of gigs and couldn’t make head or tail of it. I just thought, ‘Go home and do something you can do!’ Really, it’s not that hard being a girl in music. In fact, there are lots of advantages to it, and it’s that kind of optimism I’d like to get across rather than moaning about what sex you are." Perhaps this frustration at Riot Grrl’s default amateurism stemmed from the frustration of being a member of Suede in their lean and hopeless pre-fame years –"Apart from anything, I couldn’t deal with being the second guitarist and having this strange, Lady Macbeth role in it, along with being general mother to four blokes," she reflected in 2003. These days the well-off privately-educated daughter of an engineer who worked on London’s Centrepoint tower would no doubt be told to check her privilege for her Riot Grrrl comments (and indeed in later years she largely went back on them).

Instead, it’s when we look to Frischmann’s lyricism that a more interesting, nuanced picture emerges. If most male rock and indie music is the driven by sexual frustration and bitterness, then Elastica exudes a suave confidence. Two of the landmark albums of the period, Suede’s debut and Blur’s heartbroken 13 were written by men about Frischmann. Where Brett Anderson’s lyrics for the likes of ‘Animal Lover’ were the snarl of the wronged party, Albarn’s ‘Tender’ felt like a desperate plea for healing as his relationship with "the ghost I love the most" slipped away. Frischmann’s words on her band’s debut album, on the other hand, displayed no such angst, instead exploring sexuality with explicit wit and a twinkling eye. She is always in control and the men are proving hapless in songs that range from the Viz-like puerile ("when you’re stuck like glue / Vaseline!") to a the recurring theme of erectile dysfunction – the party man who’s kept her "sitting here waiting / yeah, and it’s getting frustrating" in all ‘All Nighter’ to another flopping disappointment in ‘Stutter’ – "And it’s never the time, boy / You’ve had too much wine to stumble up my street". It’s a rather delicious antidote to the braggadocio of Oasis’ "feeling supersonic / drinking gin and tonic". Combined with Elastica’s tight aesthetic (black clothes, DMs, flouncing hair), it was a deeply seductive package for all of us kids trying to work through our sexualities.

While some critics churlishly complained about Elastica‘s lack of originality, it became one of the fasted-selling debut albums in UK chart history. Hundreds of thousands couldn’t give two hoots about how original these songs were – and neither did Elastica themselves, always perfectly frank in interviews about how they enjoyed making music that paid tribute to the artists they loved. Honesty was always part of the appeal. In an age when so many of their peers were taking downwardly-mobile trips in class tourism, Elastica were refreshingly honest about their origins, Frischmann never trying to hide her languid upper-middle-class drawl. You could say it was part of the band’s sonic identity and Elastica were, like many of the best British groups, a complex mix – Frischmann’s family came to the UK as refugees from the Holocaust, and the rest of the band were from working class backgrounds. A pursuit of class authenticity is frequently as reductive as complaints of magpie tendencies in musical creation.

Elastica was a record that almost propelled the foursome to great heights. Pulp, Oasis, Suede and Blur all failed to break America – indeed, it became a bogey country that in the case of Suede and Oasis would break them. Elastica, though, were subject to a frantic record label bidding war in the US that led to them signing a deal with Geffen and flogging half a million records in a year. And then… silence”.

On 13th March, it is thirty years since Elastica released one of the biggest, most popular, important and enduring debut albums of the 1990s. One that no doubt has influenced so many artists today. This year, we mark some stunning albums turning thirty. I do hope that there is a lot of attention paid to Elastica. From a band that sadly burned brightly for a short time, their legacy remains. Entering a music scene geared to male artists, they made an impact and stood out. No doubt paving the way for bands led by women or featuring all women. This incredible album still sound amazing and vibrant…

THIRTY years later.

FEATURE: Stepping Out, Off the Page: Exploring More of Kate Bush's Albums in Book Form

FEATURE:

 

 

Stepping Out, Off the Page

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush on the set of the video for Babooshka (1980)

 

Exploring More of Kate Bush’s Albums in Book Form

_________

I am wondering…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush performing in Paris in 1979/PHOTO CREDIT: Getty Images

what this year will provide in terms of new books about Kate Bush. There have been biographies about Bush. As I have written before, I am not sure whether there is much more room for anything in that sense. There are definitely ideas for Kate Bush books. An encyclopedia or a photobook. Something that looks at her career and genius from a new angle. I also would love to see more in the way of magazine articles. I suspect there will be a few published later in the year as some of her albums approach big anniversaries. I have waxed lyrical about how I am enjoying Leah Kardos’s new 33 1/3 book on Hounds of Love. I am pouring through the pages and getting so much inspiration. I am going to write a few features around that book. Some around The Ninth Wave and one or two on the album in general. I also love how that book explores her songs in analytical detail. Not just looking at the lyrics. Dissecting various bits of instrumentation, effects and musical observations. It not only gives us more depth about the songs and we see them in a whole new light. It also shows what an extraordinary producer Kate Bush is. How she brought all these sounds and tones together. So many people have written about Hounds of Love, though Leah Kardos’s new book give background to the album. The time period leading up to it. Perfect context and some real exploration of where Kate Bush was in her career and why Hounds of Love was so significant. We also get some writing about its impact and how it has influenced artists since.

I have covered this briefly in another feature. The Kate Bush albums that are available in book form. Laura Shenton wrote about The Kick Inside and The Dreaming. They are essentials if you are Kate Bush fans. That said, seven of her studio albums are not explored through books. There would still be scope to update ones about The Kick Inside and The Dreaming. I have been thinking about the 33 /13 series and how Kate Bush was long overdue representation in that series. It is amazing that Hounds of Love has been given this passionate and compelling love note. Something that is so analytical and deep. It made me hungry for more books in that series that are about Kate Bush albums. There are four that come to mind. I do think that The Kick Inside would be perfect for 33 1/3. That would join three other books. I would see Never for Ever, The Sensual World and Aerial as worthy of deeper inspection and investigation. The Kick Inside because there is all that background and history beforehand. A chance to go deep with the songs and all the layers of them. A bit about how the album has inspired and influenced. Why it remains so respected and acclaimed. Never for Ever is an underrated album but also a historic one. It went to number one and, with it, Kate Bush because the first ever album by a British female solo artist to top the U.K. album chart. That would provide a focal point. It is an album that so many people do not know about. As Bush would follow 1980’s Never for Ever with 1982’s The Dreaming, we can see how she was growing as a producer and songwriter. Some might say, as it is not as big as Hounds of Love, it would be very difficult to fill a book. I would disagree. Maybe not something in the 33 1/3 series. Though it does deserves its own book. The same can be said of The Sensual World.

Still underrated in my view, it followed Hounds of Love. Released in 1989, it saw a new musical direction. The first album Bush released in her thirties. New perspectives on people, life and love. So much rich conversation and possibilities. Some of her very best songs. Not only can the book approach the songs and go into detail. Like books written about other Kate Bush albums, there is also historical context. Looking at events happening around Bush or how her life was changing. I think that nobody would argue against the fact that 2005’s Aerial is the one album that would easily owe itself to a book. A double album, there are acres of possibilities. Maybe hard to cram all into a 33 1/3 book, though I think it could happen. Nothing to say that it will not happen in the future. I do hope that someone puts together a book around Aerial. It is such a magical album and one of Kate Bush’s very best. Not to exclude any other studio album, though there may be less appetite for something around 1993’s The Red Shoes or even 2011’s 50 Words for Snow. Maybe The Dreaming could well sit alongside Hounds of Love in the 33 1/3 series. As three of her albums only have been given special treatment – unless anyone else can think of another album that has been brought to life through a book? – there is definite scope. What the 33 1/3 Hounds of Love book shows is that there is definite appetite.

I don’t think I would write a good book. However, I do recognise that there would be demand if there were more books about Kate Bush’s albums. A revisit for The Kick Inside that could also nod to its follow-up, Lionheart (!978). A Never for Ever book could include a bit about The Dreaming, though that album could also be revisit. There would be fresh looks at The Sensual World and Aerial. I have been so engrossed in Leah Kardos’s Hounds of Love book. Authors such as Graeme Thomson have covered Hounds of Love in their writing, though there is still potential for that album to be expanded on once more. Especially The Ninth Wave. The most fascinating section, in my view, of the 33 1/3 book concerns The Ninth Wave. As such a fan of The Kick Inside, something could sit alongside Laura Shenton’s book. I would love a pocket-size book about The Kick Inside where we get all of this detail. So long as it did not repeat what Shenton has written. The absence of books about Kate Bush’s albums is glaring. Many people assuming Hounds of Love is her only worthy album. The very reason to write about her albums is to make people aware of them. It might be dangerous assuming that would create demand. I think that enough Kate Bush fans would buy books about her albums. There is a whole new generation that only knows her music on the surface. A good way to appreciate the albums and what they represent is to learn more about them. Sure, there are interviews and articles written about each of them. However, a more concentrated book that one could purchase for a good price that is not too long would definitely engage people. Never say never this year. Something might come this year. It would be a thrill to discover Kate Bush’s albums in a new way. A real dive. Stepping out...

OFF the page.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Rose Gray

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

  

Rose Gray

_________

THIS is…

PHOTO CREDIT: Yana Van Nuffel

a rare occasion where I am including the same artist twice in a Spotlight feature. Because she has done so much since I last featured her (in April 2022), I wanted to revisit this sensational artist. One that is tipped as among the very best and brightest of 2025. Rose Gray is someone who is going to be a massive name very soon. I am going to get to a review for her stunning album, Louder, Please. Already staking its claim as one of the best albums of the year. I am going to come to some recent interviews soon. Before that, this Fred Perry is one of the older ones online. It gives a good insight into the musical highs, loves and memories of Rose Gray:

Name, where are you from?

Rose Gray - Walthamstow (North East London).

Describe your style in three words?

Colourful, honest, soulful.

What’s the best gig you’ve ever been to?

It would have to be seeing Prince in Birmingham. My best friend managed to get us tickets on the day of the show. So we raced up with three hours to go before it started. We somehow got taken to the front for the intro music to Purple Rain. Prince blew my mind that night, I compared his stage presence to Beyonce. Something otherworldly.

If you could be on the line up with any two bands in history?

The Beatles and Blondie. I love these two bands so much. I grew up on the Beatles. I always just thought that’s how a song should sound. And Blondie, because Debbie Harry is the definition of an icon.

Which Subcultures have influenced you?

Girl group Motown.

Stacked vocals, catchy melodies. Soul music. Powerful female vocalists and tight harmonies. I'd definitely love to play with these elements in my music.

Neo-psychedelia/'90s indie dance-pop music.

I have been devouring '90s dance records recently, songs which I didn’t have the pleasure of partying to. I feel quite influenced by the '90s. To be specific - Neo-psychedelia. It brings those familiar 1960s band sounds fusing synths and sharp keys but mixing it with soulful melodies similar to Dusty Springfield. I’ve been experimenting with bringing some of these elements into my music.

If you could spend an hour with anyone from history?

John Lennon. I would love to share poetry or ask John to play something on his white grand piano. I think we could write something beautiful... try and put the world to right.

Of all the venues you’ve been to, which is your favourite?

Brixton Academy in London. I love this venue. The sound and atmosphere, the way the floor is raised so even if you're near the back you have a perfect view.

Your greatest unsung hero or heroine in music?

Of course Amy Winehouse. I grew up loving Amy, her lyricism and honesty had me in awe from a young age. I related to her, I felt like I'd never listened to a female being so honest about love and loss. But also - Melanie. She went pretty under the radar in the '60s/'70s and should have been huge.

The first track you played on repeat?

'F*ck You' - Lily Allen

Apart from playing the Spice Girls and Christina Aguilera on repeat as a young one, I have a real memory of buying 'It's Not Me, It's You'. I remember breaking up with my boyfriend who was the definition of the guy described in 'F*ck You' so it just became my vent song.

A song that defines the teenage you?

'With Every Heartbeat' - Robyn.

If I listen to this I am 14 again dancing around my room.

One record you would keep forever?

'A Brand New Me' - Aretha Franklin (song - 'Angel' The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra version)
I grew up on Aretha Franklin. She had a true voice of an angel. I think I will love this album for the rest of my life. The Royal Philharmonic version of this record is so beautiful

I am going to move to an interview from Vogue. Speaking with Rose Gray back in September, it was built around the announcement of the then-forthcoming, Louder, Please. An album that was hotly anticipated. Now that it has arrived, you know that Gray is going to be booked at many of the biggest festivals around the world:

Yet while Gray today is more about self-preservation than the wild nights of years past, Louder, Please is also, at points, a bracingly candid record, offering a diaristic account of the past few years of her life. “Lots of parties, lots of tears, a bit of heartbreak, a bit of heart-fixing,” she says. “I feel like there’s a few tracks on the record that sound a bit like falling back in love.” (Gray is in a long-term relationship with actor Harris Dickinson, making them something of a British bright-young-thing power couple.) On the standout track “Hackney Wick”—think Burial meets Lily Allen—she offers a blow-by-blow account of a night out in east London through a kind of hushed spoken word. “Breaking into Victoria Park, having a snog under the stars, going to another party where my mate was DJing,” she says. “I can't play that to anyone who knows me because I hate hearing myself speak, though.” Elsewhere, the record is peppered with the sort of snippets and whispers you’d hear in club bathrooms. “I think as a songwriter, I’m a bit of a sponge,” she adds. “Which is quite exhausting, really.”

The moment Gray realized the puzzle pieces of her first album were coming together was when she began working with Justin Tranter, the songwriter behind some of Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber’s biggest hits. After the two jumped on a Zoom in the early months of lockdown and found themselves waxing lyrical about Madonna, Tranter led Gray through something of a masterclass in songwriting, encouraging her to home in on her tangle of ideas and feelings. “I’ve never experienced writing like what I’ve experienced with Justin,” she says. “It’s quite magic.” Elsewhere, her collaborators on the record include the white-hot electronic producer Sega Bodega, electroclash queen Uffie, and house DJ Alex Metric—but even with all these cooks in the kitchen, the outcome feels distinctly Gray. “I feel like I’m pretty headstrong in sessions,” she notes. “I know what I do and don’t like.”

Just as unequivocal is the visual world Gray has constructed around the album: a wonderland of seedy glamour and fun in the sun that harks back to the glory days of ’90s Ibiza, and the work of photographers like Martin Parr and Elaine Constantine, who captured the electric energy of those underground nightlife scenes with striking, saturated color. “When I spoke to the photographer, I wanted it to be like a ’90s Prada campaign, but starring Dido,” Gray says, with a cheeky grin. (She also describes the look as Kylie Minogue’s iconic “Slow” music video mixed with Jonathan Glazer’s Sexy Beast—you can see the vision.) On the album cover, Gray stands on a beach in Barcelona while lovers canoodle in the sand and seagulls squawk above her head; with a Walkman attached to her bikini bottoms and headphones in her ears, she lets out a scream. “It’s a little bit tacky, but also quite glamorous,” Gray adds. “I think British dance music has always had that element, which I love, and

Like Charli and Shygirl (the latter of whom Gray has collaborated with and supported onstage), Gray has also been hitting the club to spread the gospel of her upcoming music. Last month, she kicked off a series of DJ nights titled Gray Selects which she hopes can both invite new listeners into her world and spotlight the work of up-and-coming musicians she admires. “I just want to start getting us all together and playing out each other’s music,” she says. It’s a warm, communal spirit that courses through the record, too, which sounds like the sort of thing you’d listen to on your friend’s portable speaker while getting ready for a night out, sipping a lukewarm vodka Red Bull while the smell of straightener-fried hair and Impulse body spray hangs in the air.

“I hope I’ve made the kind of record that me and my best mates would absolutely play until we’re all sick of it,” she says. “Getting ready, going out, getting dolled up for a festival. But I also hope it’s something that people can listen to when they’re traveling to work. I don’t think it’s just a party or a club record. Everyone I’ve played the record to has a different favorite song, which I think is a good thing.” It’s true: while the album does feel like a statement of intent, it’s in the more ambiguous moments—where the sweary meets the seductive, or where heartbreak meets the euphoric highs of the dancefloor—that Gray truly shines. With Louder, Please, she’s ready for the big leagues”.

I will finish with two reviews I think. Four-star recommendations of Louder, Please. Proof that Rose Gray is capturing the kudos and imagination of critics. In an interview published yesterday (20th January), DORK chatted with an amazing young artist who lost hundreds of songs to label politics but is now back with even bigger purpose and drive. This is someone that you need to follow:

Rose thrives when left to her own devices. Writing five to ten songs weekly, either in sessions or collaborating with peers, her journey to a debut was inevitable. Pleading her case to her label, with her sackful of songs in tow, “I was just like, ‘Guys, I have to put out an album. I’m literally bursting’,” she laughs.

‘Louder, Please’ brims with life. Having collaborated with Justin Tranter (Lady Gaga, Chappell Roan), Sega Bodega, and Zhone (Troye Sivan), it captures a dance-laden weekend with friends getting into mischief and love, emerging from a period of self-discovery. “A lot of people’s first albums are coming-of-age albums,” says Rose. “But this to me – because I have been making music for so long, and it’s taken a while to get my first album out – is the stage after that. Being in my mid-20s, dating, falling in and out of love, and moving houses feels like the stage above the coming-of-age record.” That’s not to say she’s moved past ‘Louder, Please”s chapter. “I’m definitely still in this era of my life,” she laughs. “But I do look back at it and feel a little tingle of nostalgia because it definitely has captured this little snippet of my life.”

The visuals and aesthetics for her debut stem from a trip to Barcelona with her friends. She wanted to inhabit the world of Louder, Please authentically. The album’s artwork shows Rose on the beach, taken by a friend, embodying the all-or-nothing spirit within. “With this, I was like, I just want it to just be real,” she professes. “I actually want us to be on the beach with my mates; let’s have music on. Let’s be drinking!”

While crafting ‘Louder, Please’, Rose immersed herself in research. With friends in the club scene, she’d venture out most weekends to experience clubbing firsthand. Shazaming tracks and witnessing people dance to Charli xcx’s brash pop bolstered her confidence in her own project: “It was really interesting because that album [‘BRAT’] came out, and my album was completely done, and I do see some similarities with pop writing over heavier beats. It was great to see how much people loved that because it made me think, well, they’re gonna love my record then!” She’s continued her clubland ventures since announcing ‘Louder, Please’ and its first singles ‘Free’ and ‘Angel Of Satisfaction’. “I’ve been playing lots of clubs, like a full-time job, actually,” she smiles. “Just once or twice a week, little slots at club nights, nothing huge. Sometimes, I don’t announce them. It’s very rewarding seeing people dance to music, especially stuff that’s not even released yet.”

For Rose, her debut album exceeds her expectations. After everything she’s weathered, this is her moment to savour. “I feel confident in the music and the world I’ve created. I love it,” she gushes. “And I almost feel a bit like whatever happens with it, however it’s reviewed, I know it’s the kind of music that I want to party to, that I want to listen to, that my friends want to listen to.” And that’s what matters. The world’s too dark to overthink everything. So head to the darkened dance floors, where Rose Gray likely lurks either physically or in spirit, having the time of her life – the outside world be damned. “I’m sure it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but they do say whenever you make something you should make sure that you’re in love with it, which I am”.

Before wrapping up, I am going to get to some critical reviews for Louder, Please. The Guardian noted how Louder, Please is an album that is escapist and joyful. One that is alive and fizzing with inventiveness. An album I think will stand alongside the most important albums of this year. It is proof that Rose Gray is one of our finest artists. Nearly three years after spotlighting Rose Gray, it is amazing to see her take massive strides and put out an incredible statement with Louder, Please:

The last few years have proved tricky for female-fronted dance-pop, with interesting artists wasting away as guest vocalists on songs credited to male DJs with perfect teeth, or siloed into dead ends soundtracked by an efficient amalgam of drum’n’bass and sticky-floor EDM.

Thank goodness, then, for London’s Rose Gray, whose sweat-soaked debut album fizzes with inventiveness. She’s clearly a fan of dance music’s more experimental potential – opener Damn is an aggressively filtered jungle onslaught, while collaborators include producer Sega Bodega (Caroline Polachek, Shygirl) and electropop cult figure Uffie. But Gray also understands pop, with the campy Angel of Satisfaction stomping around a keening, early Gaga-esque chorus. The house-inflected Party People, meanwhile, would have nestled nicely on an 00s Ibiza Classics compilation mixed by Kaskade.

Hedonism is a key lyrical theme – Wet & Wild, all smile-inducing house pianos and breathy, Kylie-esque vocals, should come with its own bottle of room odouriser – but on tracks like Switch, about a tricky long-distance relationship, Gray looks inwards, searching for new ways to sustain a connection. Equally atmospheric is the spoken-word Hackney Wick, which charts a night out but focuses on relatable communion rather than focus-grouped exhortations to put your hands up.

There’s a comedown of sorts on the mid-tempo Everything Changes (But I Won’t), which saturates Gray’s voice in so many effects that its emotional impact is somewhat diluted. She’s better on tracks like Free, with its mantra-like chorus “The good shit in life is always free”, creating escapist dance-pop anthems that pierce the heart”.

I am going to end with a review from NME. They provided their views on this wonderful album. An artist who I think we will be talking about for years to come. If you have not heard of Rose Gray then make sure you check her out. This is an artist you will not want to miss out on:

Born on New Year’s Eve, there’s a touch of destiny about the way Rose Gray has embraced club culture. The vocalist, producer and DJ, who hails from Walthamstow, London, spent her teen years chasing a flawed pop star dream, before realising that the image she was being moulded into – and the accompanying music – didn’t represent her true self. But when London’s rich electronic scene came calling at the turn of her twenties, there was no looking back.

She has since grown to live and breathe that lifestyle, which has effortlessly shaped the palatable house and sultry rave-pop on her latest EPs ‘Synchronicity’ (2022) and ‘Higher Than The Sun’ (2023). These sound palettes pierce even deeper into the underground on Gray’s debut album ‘Louder, Please’, which lands as her stock continues to rise, following collaborations with TSHA, Ben Helmsley and a personal invite from Mel C to perform at Sporty Spice’s 50th birthday party.

Mysterious, discomforting opener ‘Damn’ is worlds apart from the summery sounds we’ve become used to, as Gray’s voice distorts like a whining toddler: “Won’t you turn it up a little louder, please?” Meanwhile, that familiar sunny euphoria returns in the form of the escapist ‘Free’ and the Ibiza-friendly ‘Wet & Wild’, which balances its mouthful of a verse with a swirling chorus.

The loved-up throbbing bounce of ‘Just Two’ might be Gray’s most addictive track to date, although the following one-two of ‘Tectonic’ and ‘Party People’ – an ode to those strangers who become the main characters of your night out – risks the album falling into rinse and repeat territory for a moment. ‘Angel Of Satisfaction’ dispels that notion, carrying a pulse that would give every bassline on Dua Lipa’s ‘Future Nostalgia’ a run for its money.

‘Hackney Wick’ – perhaps east London’s answer to Confidence Man cult classic ‘C.O.O.L. Party’ – is refreshingly immediate and lucid (“I hear the bass, the music, and I succumb”), while ‘First’ represents Gray’s confident first foray into the liquid drum ‘n’ bass sound that has blown up the likes of Charlotte Plank and Venbee.

On ‘Louder, Please’, Gray’s music has finally caught up with her lifestyle. The crackly sounds of the underground finally have their unfiltered moments, while her long-standing pop sensibilities still retain their place through respectable chorus hooks and addictive melodies (her classical vocal training is also clear for all to see). Gray has too many strings to her bow to lay down one overarching, definitive statement. As such, ‘Louder, Please’ is more of a dare than an instruction: follow her down this rabbit hole, and brace yourself for where she ends up”.

I will wrap things up there. Rose Gray is an artist I have admired for years now. Her future is going to be hugely successful and exciting. I am thrilled to see where she heads next and how her career unfolds. A mighty talent with an original voice, this is a Pop artist who can stand shoulder to shoulder…

WITH the best around

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Follow Rose Gray

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Dr. Dre at Sixty

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

Dr. Dre at Sixty

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ONE of music’s…

most important people turns sixty on 18th February. Born in Compton, California, Dr. Dre is the founder and CEO of Aftermath Entertainment and Beats Electronic. He is also the co-founder of Death Row Records. Many know Dr. Dre as a successful solo artist, though he started out with World Class Wreckin’ Cru and then was part of N.W.A. The group were synonymous with explicit lyrics that exposed and explored the violence and life on the street. Dre is credited with popularising West Coast G-Funk. Dr Dre. has also produced on so many iconic, important and acclaimed albums. I am going to end with a playlist of Dr. Dre songs (from his solo career) and songs from albums he has produced (or co-produced) for other artists. To start, AllMusic provide a biography of a music icon:

Dr. Dre’s impact on rap, hip-hop, and pop music in general is nothing short of revolutionary. His production informed the dominant trends for several decades of rap, updating the noisy clamor of Public Enemy’s Bomb Squad-produced tracks by bringing in funky rhythms for his breakthrough work with his group N.W.A., single-handedly inventing G-Funk in the ‘90s by reworking George Clinton’s spaced-out party funk into something aggressive yet still commercially viable, and then abandoning the style when it became too ubiquitous by the early 2000s. Dre’s rap skills were never as impressive as his production, but he played to his strengths by giving game-changing proteges the majority of time on the mike, first introducing the world to Snoop Dogg’s laid-back charisma and then to Eminem’s staggering technical abilities. Dre’s multifaceted role in the music industry saw him forming labels Death Row and Aftermath, the latter of which released massively important records by 50 CentKendrick Lamar, and Anderson .Paak. Along with production duties, label CEO status, and other business ventures like his celebrity headphones-turned-streaming platform Beats by Dre, the good doctor continued to slowly and steadily release music of his own as the years went by, bolstering a discography full of groundbreaking work like his 1992 debut The Chronic with projects like his 2015 full-length Compton, and his six-song EP The Contract, released in conjunction with Grand Theft Auto in 2022.

Dre (born Andre Young, February 18, 1965) became involved in hip-hop during the early '80s, performing at house parties and clubs with the World Class Wreckin' Cru around South Central Los Angeles and making a handful of recordings along the way. In 1986 he met Ice Cube, and the two rappers began writing songs for Ruthless Records, a label started by former drug pusher Eazy-EEazy tried to give one of the duo's songs, "Boyz-n-the Hood," to HBO, a group signed to Ruthless. When the group refused, Eazy formed N.W.A. -- an acronym for N*gg*z With Attitude -- with Dre, CubeMC Ren, and DJ Yella, releasing their first album in 1987. A year later, N.W.A. delivered Straight Outta Compton, a vicious record that became an underground hit with virtually no support from radio, the press, or MTV. N.W.A. became notorious for their hardcore lyrics, especially those of "Fuck tha Police," which resulted in the FBI sending a warning letter to Ruthless and its parent company, Priority, suggesting that N.W.A. should watch their step.

Most of the group's political threat left with Cube when he departed in late 1989 amid many financial disagreements. While Eazy appeared to be the undisputed leader following Cube's departure -- and he was certainly responsible for the group approaching near-parodic levels with their final pair of records -- the music was in Dre's hands. On both the 1990 EP 100 Miles and Runnin' and the 1991 album Efil4zaggin ("Niggaz4life" spelled backward), he created dense, funky sonic landscapes that were as responsible for keeping N.W.A. at the top of the charts as Eazy's comic-book lyrics. While the group was at the peak of its popularity in 1991, Dre began to make efforts to leave the crew, especially after he was charged with assaulting Dee Barnes, the host of a televised rap show, in 1991. The following year, Dre left the group to form Death Row Records with Suge Knight and N.W.A. affiliate the D.O.C. According to legend, Knight held N.W.A.'s manager at gunpoint and threatened to kill him if he refused to let Dre out of his contract.

Dre released his first solo single, "Deep Cover," in the spring of 1992. Not only was the record the debut of his elastic G-funk sound, it was also the beginning of his collaboration with rapper Snoop Doggy Dogg. Dre discovered Snoop through his stepbrother Warren G, and he immediately began working with the rapper -- Snoop was on Dre's 1992 debut, The Chronic as much as Dre himself was. Thanks to the singles "Nuthin' But a 'G' Thang," "Dre Day," and "Let Me Ride," The Chronic was a multi-platinum, Top Ten, Grammy-winning smash, and the entire world of hip-hop changed with it. For the next four years, it was virtually impossible to hear mainstream hip-hop that wasn't affected in some way by Dre and his patented G-funk. Not only did he produce Snoop's 1993 debut Doggystyle, but he orchestrated several soundtracks, including Above the Rim and Murder Was the Case (both in 1994), which functioned as samplers for his new artists and production techniques, and he helmed hit records such as Blackstreet's "No Diggity," among others, including a hit reunion with Ice Cube, "Natural Born Killaz." During this entire time, Dre released no new records, but he didn't need to -- all of Death Row was under his control, and most of his peers mimicked his techniques.

The Death Row dynasty held strong until the spring of 1996, when Dre grew frustrated with Knight's strong-arm techniques. At the time, Death Row was devoting itself to 2Pac's label debut, All Eyez on Me (which featured Dre on the breakthrough hit "California Love"), and Snoop was busy recovering from his draining murder trial. Dre left the label in the summer of 1996 to form Aftermath, declaring gangsta rap dead. While he was subjected to endless taunts from his former Death Row colleagues, their sales had slipped by 1997, and Knight was imprisoned on racketeering charges by the end of the year. Dre's first album for Aftermath, the various-artists collection Dr. Dre Presents...The Aftermath, received considerable media attention, but the record didn't become a hit despite the presence of his hit single "Been There Done That." Even though the album wasn't a success, the implosion of Death Row in 1997 proved that Dre's inclinations were correct at the time. Dre's de facto sophomore solo album 2001 -- which scored him a second Grammy for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group for "Forgot About Dre" -- followed in 1999. That same year, Dre unveiled his next protégé, a young Detroit rapper named Eminem.

Dre's focus then shifted to work with his label and production for other artists. A third, and final, album titled Detox had been announced, but as the producer devoted time to Aftermath artists like 50 Cent and Eminem, the album suffered numerous delays. Work for the GameSnoop DoggJay-Z, and others brought Dre to 2006 when he partnered with Jimmy Iovine and launched the celebrity headphones company Beats by Dr. Dre. After sports figures and other celebrities adopted the headphones en masse, Beats' success skyrocketed. By 2010, the company was valued at just under a billion dollars. Dre dipped back into rapping by dropping two singles: "Kush" featuring Snoop Dogg and Akon and "I Need a Doctor" with Eminem and Skylar Grey. He continued to tease Detox, but ended up returning to the studio to focus on his next big breakout act, Compton's own Kendrick Lamar. At the start of 2014, Beats launched a streaming music service, Beats Music. Beats was acquired by Apple Inc. later in the year, as Dre announced he was the "first billionaire in hip-hop." In 2015, the Academy Award-nominated N.W.A. biographical drama Straight Outta Compton was released in theaters and influenced the producer to scrap Detox in favor of an LP inspired by the film. The album Compton: A Soundtrack by Dr. Dre landed that same year with Kendrick LamarAnderson. PaakIce Cubethe GameEminem, and many more on the guest list.

With N.W.A.'s cultural resurgence and mainstream recognition of their legacy in the history of rap and hip-hop, the group received another honor for their contribution to music with their induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2016. In December of 2021, video game Grand Theft Auto Online used six previously unreleased Dre songs in an updated version of the game. These songs were eventually released in 2022 as EP The Contract. In February of 2022, Dr. Dre performed at the Superbowl LVI half-time show with EminemMary J. BligeKendrick Lamar, and others. Around this time, Dre gave interviews saying he was working on new music with Blige, as well as with Floetry vocalist Marsha Ambrosius”.

To mark the upcoming sixtieth anniversary of Dr. Dre, I have compiled a mixtape with his best solo cuts and songs for other artists that he produced or co-produced. One of the most influential people in music history, it is hard to put into words just how much the music world changed because of him. I know the media will mark Dr. Dre’s sixtieth birthday. This is a music salute to…

A music pioneer and genius.

FEATURE: Playing Canasta in a Cold Room: Kate Bush and the Muse of the Dance

FEATURE:

 

 

Playing Canasta in a Cold Room

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush photographed in London in 1978/PHOTO CREDIT: Gered Mankowitz

 

Kate Bush and the Muse of the Dance

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GOING back to the earliest…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush and Lindsay Kemp whilst filming the short film, The Line, the Cross and the Curve, in 1993/PHOTO CREDIT: Gudio Harari

days of Kate Bush’s career, I was thinking about how important dance was. One thinks of Kate Bush and her incredible music. How she is a wonderful writer and singer. I think that dance and the freedom that it offered her influenced how she wrote and created. Not only was dance important to her videos and live music. She was also very physical in the studio. I know a lot of other artists learned dance and brought that into their repertoire heavily., However, I think Bush was a dancer before she was an artist. I am going to source from a couple of different books. One is Rob Jovanovic’s Kate Bush: The Biography and another is Tom Doyle’s Running Up That Hill: 50 Visions of Kate Bush. I am fascinated by Kate Bush’s love of dance. Going to classes in Covent Garden. What attracted her to that discipline. Maybe artists like David Bowie. Her love of film and the sort of artistic stimulus that was introduced into her world as a child. I feel there was this energy and passion within that needed to come out. Sure, performing and creating music could help with that. However, Bush had bigger ambitions and wider horizons. Always connecting dance directly with her music. Evident when you see the videos for Wuthering Heights. Kate Bush definitely coming across as a dancer more than a conventional artist. If Bush could self-teach the piano and also got some assistance from her father, she needed to go to classes and find tutors when it came to dance. I know she would have carved out some space at her East Wickham Farm bedroom at the family home. Her den where she listen to music no doubt saw a young Bush pirouetting, moving and leaping along to music of the day. Some boogeying to T.Rex or David Bowie. Some cool moves worked out to accompany a song from Elton John or Roxy Music. As someone without dance or ballet training and background, it was not easy for Bush to get a tutor or enrol in a class. A blank C.V., she had to start at the bottom – or the back. When Bush attended St. Joseph's Convent Grammar School, she did not get along with her dance teacher. A such, maybe she did not keep up with her studies. It meant she had some catching up to do!

I am on a slight detour, though I will publish a feature of ‘Kate Bush’s London’. The houses she lived in. The areas she frequented and lived in. Building this map of how Bush covered the capital. I know about Covent Garden and dance classes there. I was not aware of her association with Elephant and Castle. She attended mime class there. During 1976, she attended Adam Darius’s classes once a week. I am not sure whether she was driven there or would hop the bus from East Wickham Farm in Welling. It would have been quite a trek! Adam Darius has evolved his work into a fusion of dance and mine, as Rob Jovanovic writes. Having worked with the likes of Kate Beckinsale and Placido Domingo, Darius recalls how keen and attentive Kate Bush was. An expressive face and a love of mime, he noted Bush’s sensitive and intelligence. Even if she was a once-a-week student, her passion and dedication was impressive! Bush would hang back after class and ask questions. No doubt absorbing this so she could practice and hone her craft back at home. Possibly in her record nook where she would have some privacy to maybe mime and move to music. Mime was very important when it came to her music videos and photoshoots. Someone who could express a range of emotions, rather than being a stilted or conventional Pop artist. Bush was always curious and asked questions in the studio. Wanting to learn a discipline so that she could master it and build up her skillset. It was also not a case of Bush being from this comfortable family and being able to afford these luxuries. Not many people in the middle-classes would be interested in mime. It was passion and authenticity from Bush rather than wealth-flexing and something expected of her. In 1976, Bush also saw an advert for Lindsay Kemp’s Flowers. He would become her mentor and the two enjoyed a long friendship. Kemp would briefly feature in Bush’s 1993 film, The Line, the Cross and the Curve, and she dedicated Moving to him – the first song from her debut album, The Kick Inside (1978).

Kemp’s classes tantalised the promise of ‘living fabulously through your senses’. Despite being controversial, Kemp had a strong background and reputation. He had hooked up with David Bowie. I am not sure whether Bush knew this before enrolling in the classes. Considering her admiration for David Bowie. Wanting to be like him in some ways. Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust character (which emerged in 1972). Kate Bush was at the final Ziggy Stardust concert in 1973. Maybe this pilgrimage to retrace the footsteps of David Bowie and the origins of Ziggy Stardust. Also, Lindsay Kemp would play David Bowie albums in his class. For Kate Bush, this must have been a heaven! Bush knew that, once she saw Flowers, that she had to do something like this herself. If a single person could produce the music and the performance and create this new form of art that was contemporary and classic, then that opened her eyes and ambitions. The lure of the physicality that could be expressed. Being able to say so much without singing or speaking. The implications, suggestions, movements and flow that was its own language. Lindsay Kemp sadly died in 2018. Bush attended his classes over at The Dance Centre in Covent Garden in 1976. I think initially it was a Fulham church/school hall where he and Bush met and worked together. Again, the young Kate Bush covering quite a lot of London to fulfil her passion and get the training and tutoring that she was looking for! Kemp’s classes cost 50p a time. Bush could learn expressive arm movements and facial expressions. I can picture her, maybe shyly at the back of the class, being coxed forward to the front by Kemp. Bush did admire conventional mime yet that was too staid. She wanted to have the sort of flexibility and freedom that Lindsay Kemp offered. Kemp taught Bush that you can express with your body. And, as Rob Jovanovic also observed, she knew that when your body was alive and alert then so was your mind. There would be exercising and routines. Like the class imagining they were all sailors and they were drowning!

It did take a while for Kemp to notice Bush. When she was at his classes at the (Covent Garden) Dance Centre, that is when she made her impression. It took about a dozen or so classes before she was on his radar. As she was at the back of the class – like a child as he recalled; reminiscent in some ways of Wendy or Tinkerbell (from Peter Pan) -, it was a slow realisation. Such large classes, there was a shine and aura coming from Bush that attracted Kemp and alerted his senses! How Bush loved the drama of the classes. I did not know that Lindsay Kemp offered Bush a job in the wardrobe department for the presentation of Mr Punch at the Roundhouse Theatre in London. Kemp unaware that Bush was with EMI and they had designs for this budding star. Bush paid tribute to Kemp’s role. A teacher that filled you up. This empty glass being filled with champagne!  Kemp left for Australia six months after Bush started to attend his classes. That said, Bush wanted to keep up with dance, so then joined Arlene Phillips’s class at The Dance Centre in Covent Garden. I wonder what Phillips thinks of Kate Bush’s success now. Phillips had choregraphed for Hot Gossip. They performed on The Kenny Everett Show. Bush loved how she could attend Arlene Phillip’s class because she (Bush) did not have qualifications. Bush was keen and did not need a background or experience. It was very freeing! I want to return to Lindsay Kemp’s class and something Tom Doyle notes in Running Up That Hill: 50 Visions of Kate Bush. Flowers was based on French writer Jean Genet’s autobiographical 1943 novel, Notre-Dame-des-Fleurs (Our Lady of the Flowers). It is about one man’s trek through the demi-monde of Paris, frequented by  outcasts and homosexuals. How revealing and provocative this would have been to a teenage Kate Bush!

The array of characters in Kemp’s troupe was varied and colourful. Sailors, criminals, whores, angels and cross-dressers among them. Set to a soundtrack of Billie Holiday, Mozart, Pink Floyd and Al Jolson, although this ‘journey to destruction’ did not always track and makes sense, it definitely made an impression on Kate Bush. Fun and sexy, she admired the combination of music and theatre. How dance was elevated and heightened by the power of music. Maybe she was more used to seeing artists on T.V. and thinking that this was what an artist was and all they could ever be. Her exposure to productions like Flowers influenced how her music would begin and continue to be. Would Kate Bush have been inspired to write about a ghostly Catherine Earnshaw trying to snatch Heathcliff in the night for Wuthering Heights were it not for Lindsay Kemp? Sure, Bush caught a 1967 T.V. adaptation of the novel, though I think it was her experiences with Lindsay Kemp and Flowers that helped give blossom and bloom to the eccentricity and original voice of that song (as Bush had not at that time read Wuthering Heights). Flowers took Bush’s breath away! From that revelation, she knew that music is what she wanted to do. It is that important! Many people do not talk of dance, Lindsay Kemp and that period when it comes to Kate Bush. It is hugely significant! Bush’s brother, John (Carder Bush) noted that a transformation had occurred after Bush returned from seeing Flowers. The young Cathy Bush had now become Kate. Almost like the girl has become a woman and adopted this new alter ego!

Going back to Bowie, I think he helped pique Bush’s interest. On the poster for Flowers was a quote from Bowie: “(of Kemp) This it the man that started it all”. It grabbed Bush’s attention. Bowie first met Kemp in 1967 and the two became creatively and sexually entangled. Maybe there was some guilt from Bowie. Whilst with Kemp, there was off-stage drama. The two appeared in a presentation of Pierrot in Turquoise. As the production moved, so too did the bond between. Bowie engaged in an affair with a mutual friend, Natasha Korniloff. Kemp (half-heartedly) tried to end his life. Kemp was taken to hospital, seen by a doctor and, after having a plaster applied to some minor scratches, was told not to be so daft! Bowie talked about Kemp in 1972 and noted how he lived off his emotions. He held admiration for him. Even if their romantic bond was broken, there still was a creative link. Kemp appeared as Starman alongside Bowie at the Rainbow Theatre in December '72. Bowie acknowledging what an important influence Kemp was to him. It was only a few years or so later when Kemp would make his mark on another artist. I love to imagine Kate Bush travelling to dance and mime classes. The excitement and anticipation. Her participating and, sure and soon enough, shining as the star of the class. The rush she gets heading back to East Wickham Farm! Crucially, how she brought those experiences and disciplines to the studio to record The Kick Inside. How she created her own version of Lindsay Kemp’s routines and aesthetics for The Tour of Life in 1979. Maybe even for Before the Dawn in 2014. Theatrics and beautiful set designs can be traced back to him. The way dance and music interlocked and awakened something in Bush. In Moving, the first tracking from The Kick Inside, the line “You crush the lily in my soul” is directed at Lindsay Kemp and how she brought the bravery and expression out of Kate Bush. What he did was turn this promising and eager seed and turned it…

INTO a beautiful flower.

FEATURE: Running Up That Road: Kate Bush: The First Woman

FEATURE:

 

 

Running Up That Road

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1980/PHOTO CREDIT: Patrick Lichfield 

 

Kate Bush: The First Woman

_________

I am going to write…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush during The Tour of Life in Hammersmith in May 1979/PHOTO CREDIT: Max Browne

a few Kate Bush features where inspiration is pulled from Leah Kardos’s recent 33 1/3 book, Hounds of Love. After the introduction, the first chapter concerns Kate Bush as the ‘first woman’. In that she was the first woman to break a particular record or achieve something huge in music. I had not given too much thought to this. It is amazing considering some of the significant ‘firsts’ that Bush is responsible. Kardos names the times where Bush was the first woman to accomplish something significant. In one case, she was the first person to do something significant that helped reshape live music and its wider horizons. I am going to spend some times with these ‘firsts’. On 17th February, 1978, Kate Bush’s debut album, The Kick Inside, was released into the world. EMI and Bush would not have quite known how popular the album would be. As she was new and had only released one single – Wuthering Heights – at this point, it would have been quite ambitious to think that the album would sell more than a million copies. That is what it did. With this extraordinarily original music, combined with Bush promoting the album heavily around the world, meant that a debut from a teenage artist sold over a million copies! Not only was this an extraordinary feat for an artist with their debut album. Bush became the first woman in Pop history to release a million-selling debut album. That seems remarkable now. I am thinking who could have challenged her in the years before that. Maybe someone like Joni Mitchell. Though her debut, Song to a Seagull (1968), was not as acclaimed and revered as much as Blue (1971). In years since, there have been women who have sold a million copies of an album. Few do it with their debut. I know Amy Winehouse’s Frank, released in 2003, has sold over a million copies. It does not happen that often! Bush clearing a path and pushing down barriers. Showing that women in Pop could not only write their own album but also have it connect in such a way that it sells over a million copies! There is no telling what impact this had on women in music who followed her.

Also tied to her debut, Bush set another record. Many people know about this. Her debut single, Wuthering Heights, reached number one and, in the process, meant Bush became the first woman in music history to have a self-penned single reach number one in the U.K. That single was released on 20th January, 1978. Again, I can’t think of any other female artists before her that could have matched that. Many female artists had others writing for them. There were not many female contemporaries of Kate Bush who were writing their own music. Again, this would have given a lot of inspiration to women that followed. I am not certain how many female artists in the modern day have achieved what Bush did. In that their single, which they wrote, went to number one in the U.K. Probably less common than you think. Yet Kate Bush would have provided such momentum and push to many female artists. This article from 2023 spotlights Kenya Grace and her single, Strangers. That reached number one. She wrote, performed and produced the track. Kate Bush did not produce Wuthering Heights (that was Andrew Powell). However, Bush did write, produce and perform Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God). That hit number one in the U.K. in 2022 when it gained new attention after getting on Stranger Things. Bush was sixty-three when the song went to number one in the U.K. (on 22nd June, 2022). That might be another record in itself. I cannot think of many sixty-three year old women who have a U.K. number one written and produced by them. In an ageist music industry, that was another huge step! Even if Bush was twenty-seven when Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was originally released (5th August, 1985), she was in her sixties and enjoying this resurgence back in 2022. Bush still able to break barriers and open doors.

I wrote about this recently. How Kate Bush used a wireless microphone to perform. Because she was performing dance and putting a lot of energy into her set, she could not juggle a microphone and focus on her set. It was necessary to manufacture a wireless microphone that means she could sing and move freely at the same time. Even this article says it was Martin Fisher who was a sound engineer who developed and invested the wireless microphone for Kate Bush, I think it is actually Gordon Patterson who is responsible. No matter. I guess there would have been a wireless microphone used in other spheres. In terms of the arts or in the world in general. However, it was new for artists. Imagine how live music could have been different if that wireless microphone was invested sooner. We associate the wireless head microphone with Britney Spears or more obviously Madonna. Many think the Queen of Pop is the person who brought that in. Look at live music now and Kate Bush was not only the first woman to use a wireless microphone. She was the first person! A massive achievement. Bush did not want to lumber a microphone around on stage. Something comparatively lightweight was fashioned. She helped completely change live music. Pop concerts since have utilised this breakthrough. Another first that Bush is responsible revolves around Never for Ever. Her third studio album, it was released in 1980. It reached number one on the U.K. chart. She was the first woman to achieve that. Bush was twenty-two when she held that record. Since, many women have reached number one on the U.K. album chart. Kate Bush was the first. All of these achievements helping to change the culture and inspire women coming through. Amazing that no other woman had hit the top of the album chart here prior to 1980! Bush this pioneer. Also, Bush wrote the album and co-produced it. It was absolutely historic when Bush got that number one. Many people overlook these accomplishments when they talk about Kate Bush. How important she is.

Kate Bush released her only greatest hits album, The Whole Story, in 1986. That combined her best work to that date. Well, the singles at the very least. Early in 1986 – June to be semi-precise -, Alan Jones wrote in the Record Mirror that Bush had single-handedly written all fifteen of her singles. She was twenty-seven at this point. That was unrivalled by any other female songwriter in the world. I am not sure how many women have matched that since. It is quite rare. In terms of solo-penned hit singles. I can’t think of any other artists who have that record. Can you think of any female artists since 1986 that have self-written such a run of singles like Kate Bush did? Madonna co-wrote and had other writers. Taylor Swift co-writes for the most part. It is amazing to consider! I have a few more record/firsts to cover off. Each one makes me admire and respect Kate Bush more! On 13th November, 1993, Bush (aged thirty-five) conceivably released the first ‘visual album’. The short film, The Line, the Cross and the Curve, was a selection of songs from her The Red Shoes album tied to a story. To that point, there had been musical films. The Beatles had been in a few, though they were theatrical releases and one cannot say something like Help!, Magical Mystery Tour or A Hard Day’s Night were ‘visual albums’, because of their sheer length. Bush’s short film was very much the first time a woman in music had done anything like this. In years since, artists such as Beyoncé and Frank Ocean have put out visual albums. Bush was the first woman to do this. Maybe she does not realise that fact now. She also wrote and directed that film. You might quibble as to whether it is a visual album. However, as it was a short film stringing together album tracks, that is what it was!

Cast your mind back to 6th September, 2014. That was when Bush was performing her Before the Dawn residency in Hammersmith. Because of the press coverage and massive popularity, she saw eleven albums of hers in the chart/the top 100. Eight of them were in the top 40. It was a record at that time. The most simultaneous top 40 albums by a solo female artists. Bush was fifty-six at the time. I am not sure whether an artist like Taylor Swift has beaten that since. In 2014, this record was set. Bush once more inspiring and pioneering. Showing just how loved she and her music is. As an artists in her fifties, it also showed how one cannot define women and write them off. Her still very much active today, Kate Bush has helped shift perceptions around women in music, especially when it comes to age. I mentioned it early. Bush hitting number one with Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) in 2022. On 23rd June, 2022, Bush set a record for the longest gap between number one songs. She was sixty-three when she got only her second number one song in the U.K. – which seems insane considering all that golden music! Her first number one was Wuthering Heights in 1978. Bush was nineteen. A gap of forty-four-years and eighty-three days. She set the record but was soon bested by The Beatles. I think Bush would not have minded being beaten by The Beatles! Now and Then, their final single, went to number one in 2023. Forty-four years and 144 days since The Ballad of John and Yoko came out (in 1969). However, Bush still holds the record for women.

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

Kate Bush snatched a record from Wham! The record for the longest time for a song to reach number one. Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) was released in 1985. It took thirty-six years and 310 days to finally hit the top spot. Last Christmas took thirty-six years and twenty-three days to get to number one in 2021. Incredible to think that Bush has broken so much ground through the years! That is not all! I did say how Bush was sixty-three (actually, twenty-three days shy of sixty-four) when Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) reached number one in 2022. That record was previously held by Cher, who was only fifty-two when Believe came out! Amazing! As mentioned, as music is still ageist and judges women, Bush hitting number one in her sixties is helping the conversation. That women can succeed and be relevant in older age. In fact, women over thirty or forty are labelled and often seen as ‘too old’ still. Every time Kate Bush does something amazing like reaching number one and reaching a new audience in the process, in her sixties, this gives strength and faith to so many other women! In terms of the ‘firsts’, Bush set her first in 1978. Her most recent happened in 2023. A period of forty-five years between records just shows what a legacy and genius she has. How her music has spanned the decades and continues to influence and connect with people. In 2023, Bush’s Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) became the first solo recording released in the 1980s by a woman to reach a billion streams on Spotify. Bush was sixty-four. That might seem quite niche, though consider some of the women who were making waves and ruling the charts in the 1980s. Madonna for one! No solo Madonna single has surpassed a billion streams on Spotify. The Like a Virgin (1984) album has passed a billion but no song has come close to a billion streams. I wanted to write this feature so that we can see just how pioneering Kate Bush is. Thanks to Leah Karos and her Hounds of Love 33 1/3 book for opening my eyes and inspiring this feature! From Wuthering Heights scaling to number one in 1978 through to Bush passing a billion streams on Spotify for Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) in 2023, what other ‘firsts’ will she achieve in years to come? I don’t think she has done smashing records and breaking down barriers. It is another reason why the mighty Kate Bush is taken to heart by…

SO many people around the world.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Good Neighbours

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight


Good Neighbours

_________

I realise I focus…

largely on solo artists when it comes to my Spotlight features. This time around, I am talking about Good Neighbours. There is a lot out there, and I am going to drop quite a few interviews in. The first I want to come to is from 1883 Magazine. They discussed their debut E.P., Good Neighbours:

Before coming together as Good Neighbours, Oli Fox and Scott Verrill were carving their own paths as solo artists. Their individual experiences shaped the foundation of what would become their unique collaboration, a project defined by creative freedom and a fresh approach to making music. Unlike their previous ventures, where external voices often clouded their artistic vision, Good Neighbours is a space where the duo can fully express themselves, free from outside influence. The result is a raw, unfiltered sound that stands in stark contrast to their earlier work.

From the moment they sent out their first SoundCloud link—intended as a joke—major labels were quick to notice. What started as a playful move turned into a surreal moment, with industry insiders reaching out within hours. Their breakout single “Home” soon went viral on TikTok, catapulting the band into the spotlight. Despite the sudden success, they’ve stayed true to their DIY roots, recording with whatever tools are available—whether that’s an iPhone or a high-end studio mic—infusing their tracks with an authentic, handmade quality that resonates with listeners.

Before Good Neighbours, both of you had solo careers. How did your experiences as individual artists shape what you bring to this project, and what makes Good Neighbours different from your previous ventures?

This is definitely the first time we’ve both made something with no external input whatsoever – we both had really similar paths in our solo projects and got to the point where there were way too many cooks in the kitchen and we lost our vision.

To be honest the best thing about this time round was the fact we had no intention to even start the band and it’s all been centered around the music.

You sent out your first email with a SoundCloud link as a bit of a joke, and within hours, major labels were reaching out. What was going through your minds at that moment? Did it feel like a surreal moment?

Yeah it was super gratifying for people to react so passionately purely from hearing the music. We found a couple emails from LinkedIn for our favourite labels and sent an obnoxious email with the songs. People in the music industry LOVE to know about things before anyone else, so it was just a fun bit for us to disguise it as this totally new project when actually we had crossed paths with most of these people before… people couldn’t figure out if we were like 16 or 40.

Your song “Home” blew up on TikTok and became a massive viral hit. How did you handle the pressure that came with that sudden success, and how did it impact the way you approached creating music afterward?

Luckily we weren’t making music with any goal in mind and first, we were just writing for the sake of fun and trying to be a bit naive again, so before we had even begun writing Home there were a string of songs we made that all felt super cohesive. For us home is like an anomaly that’s helped to kick everything off – we don’t want to force stuff to fit with it and are just trying to stick to writing whatever feels new and fresh.

The DIY approach you’ve taken with the EP is refreshing. Can you share some of the unconventional methods you used to record tracks, like recording drum parts through iPhones, and how this adds to your overall sound?

The whole recording process for us is like bottling up the energy and excitement as fast as we can, instead of thinking about it technically. So we just record with whatever is within an arm’s reach – most of the time it’s our phone and we airdrop parts in, or if we’re in a room with a big fancy mic we’ll use it just cos it’s what’s available. I think you can definitely hear that there are two humans hitting stuff and shouting in a small room in most of our songs, which is cool.

You describe your sound as capturing the ‘coming of age’ feeling. How do you go about creating that emotion in your music, and how do your personal experiences play into the songwriting?

Staying completely honest and raw in the lyrics gives our songs a nice edge to them. We love mirroring this in our recording process by not over thinking anything and being quite brash and fast with how we work.

It’s been a big year for Good Neighbours, with your EP release and performing on major stages. What has been the most rewarding or surreal moment of this journey so far?

It’s all moved so insanely fast that it’s hard to soak it in – we’re working on that… I think because we slogged away in our previous projects for so long, everything this time round feels like a win and we are way more grateful for it. Some of the festival stages like the Radio One Tent at Reading have been the most surreal because those are the ones we dreamed of playing  as teenagers.

Your music has a nostalgic, bittersweet vibe with a touch of darkness in the lyrics despite the uplifting choruses. How do you balance these contrasting emotions in your songwriting?

The blue sky mentality. It’s been a motto of ours when writing. I think it’s stemmed from our hometowns, that aren’t the most beautiful places to look at but when the sun is out it’s a wonderful place to be. So we try and treat the subject matter like that; taking any topics like depression or anxiety and putting them in an uplifting production that kinda opens the conversation up to the audience.

Looking back at your early days in the industry and the challenges you faced, what lessons did you take from those experiences that guide you now with Good Neighbours?

When we first started out in the industry I think it was easier and safer to say yes to others opinions because we thought they knew best. With this project, it’s been us and only us from day one. So we’ve been free of opinions in the creative process which I think has really benefited us and I believe that’s why people are truly buying into the message the project is putting out”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Emma Swann

I am going to take a snippet of an interview DIY published with Good Neighbours from last August. This breakthrough duo who are creating perfect summer Indie bangers, I think that they are going to festival mainstays pretty soon. Designed to get large crowds united and jumping:

Although, from the outside, it might seem like Good Neighbours have come out of nowhere, the pair explain they’d been toiling as solo artists for years before their pathways finally crossed. Verrill muses: “We spent so long in our previous musical lives working away, now we feel like we deserve these big moments and we’re able to take it in our stride a little bit more.”

With that in mind, it doesn’t necessarily feel like they’re short-circuiting the system in heading straight for the bigger stages. “I don’t think either of us were really loving playing alone,” Fox says, looking back. “We both grew up playing in bands. I personally fell out of love with it massively, I didn’t know what music I wanted to make so I just took a step back and became a songwriter just because it meant a bit more creative freedom.”

After the bulk of their workload became Zoom sessions with artists overseas, the duo suddenly realised they had this time to burn themselves. “The whole project was born out of this spare energy that was always sitting between us that we’d never used,” explains Verrill. But those hard yards of working together resulted in a natural chemistry. “Those couple of years were really helpful. We both dabble on all instruments so we just jump in and out of each other’s places and it’s really fluid.”

Given the project was born from a place of fun and freedom, the band plan on keeping it that way, even as the pressures from their fans and the industry begin to grow. “Ultimately we started this project for us as a writing exercise and that’s where all the joy came from,” says Fox. “I don’t think that spark should ever go; as long as we keep the blinkers on in the best way possible then the magic will continue.”

Having largely processed their overnight rise via screen-based metrics and numbers so far, now the pair are relishing the thought of a packed festival season including milestone performances at Reading and Leeds. “Just playing on an outdoor stage feels so right for the music,” says Verrill. Fox nods: “Everyone’s takeaway from the shows we’ve done is that it should be on a bigger stage. It’s heartening to hear that because we want to be that festival band that lifts everyone up.”

Taking stock of their whirlwind six months, the band are trying to take it one day at a time. “We had no plans for the band, we just had a bunch of songs that we loved,” says Fox. “We didn’t have any expectations so we do feel blindsided in the best way possible.” Verrill says they’re thankful to have each other through such a dizzying time: “You celebrate all of the wins together, it feels like the perfect chemistry. Nothing has been overthought, we’re just making it up as we go which is better for our heads not to jump too far ahead; we’re just letting it happen and setting our own benchmarks. Right now, everything is this beautiful happy accident that just keeps working. Let’s just hope that continues and then we’ll be two very happy boys”.

Four more interviews I want to highlight. I will start with one from Rolling Stone from November. They chatted about the concept of guilty pleasures and why they want to feel like teenagers when writing and creating their music. I am new to their music but am really interested to see where they go next.

When you first came together to make music, what drew you in the direction of this bright, melodic indie sound?

Oli: It was just personal taste really.

Scott: We never really liked the pop stuff we were making that much, and no-one references the indie 2000s scene. We’d never delved into it together and realised we have all these mutual bands [that we like].

Oli: It was like a guilty pleasure making it.

Scott: We were desperate to make something fun, and that you felt like a teenager when you were making it.

Guilty pleasures are an interesting concept – it’s only guilty if you allow yourself to feel that it is. Pop-punk is massively in vogue again now thanks to Olivia Rodrigo…

Oli: It’s a bit of a risk, but when we started making it, the whole thing felt like fate. When we started to feel like this could be a band, all the deep cuts of Foster the People were started circulating again online. Kids were finding them for the first time. That was the universe screaming at us and saying, ‘You are the ones that need to bring it to the forefront and really do it’. That really motivated us.

Does your recent debut EP serve as a chronological run through the start of the band?

Oli: It’s kind of chronological. We went on a purple patch of ‘Keep It Up’, ‘Daisies’, ‘Ripple’. ‘Home’ was the last song we wrote for the EP. We had the chorus for ages and never really thought much of it to be honest. Then we put [the teaser] out and it popped off, so we realised we needed to finish it straight away. ‘Home’ was the keys going in the engine and wanting to shout our name as loudly as possible. When ‘Keep It Up’ came out, that’s when we could actually show what we’re about. 

Does the music you’ve been writing since the EP follow a similar sonic path, or are you looking to experiment beyond that?

Scott: We’re trying to experiment a little bit more. We definitely had a formula with the earlier music, which I guess was easy to write. We’re trying to push ourselves a little bit more. It’s a little bit more electronic.

Oli: When you’re playing gigs, you start to see gaps in your discography. As performers, we know where we want the gig to go, but realise that we haven’t even written that song yet. It’s such a good practice of knowing BPMs that we’re missing out, or the feel of a song that we haven’t got yet.

People have been sending us loads of 2000s bands that we remind them of, and we’ve been listening to them and taking a lot of inspiration from that. It’s evolving in front of our eyes. We’re excited to show people.

Scott: We’re trying to keep the naivety that we had before, just making stuff on our laptops between the two of us and trying to keep it janky.

The lyrics of Good Neighbours are very personal – was it nice to be able to write from that place after years of writing for others?

Oli: The weirdest thing as a songwriter is having a message that you know you want to say, but you feel bad inflicting it onto another artist. Or there’s a real nugget that they could have, but they just can’t relate to it. That was a bit of a struggle for me as a writer, and I always wondered why that was. I guess this band pointed out that maybe I’d needed to just say it as the artist.

That’s been a real help for me, personally and  mentally, to have a space to talk about struggle and then see it react on a big scale with people around the world. It’s been a real acceptance of stuff that I’ve been dealing with personally, which has been a really lovely part of the project. When people come up to you after the gig and tell you that you’ve helped them through a really hard time, you hear about that happening with other artists, but when it happens to you for the first time, you’re like, ‘Oh shit, I can actually make a difference, or lighten someone else’s load”.

Even though Chappell Roan won the BBC Sound of 2025 poll, you think it should have gone to an act like Good Neighbours. Less well-known than her, it would have been more appropriate, though they were named among the longlist. NME spoke with the rising duo. They highlighted how they want to be ‘that’ festival band:

Are the lyrics to ‘Home’ autobiographical?

Fox: “A little. The chorus came to me at a time when I’d returned home for a funeral in Essex for a few days and I was feeling awful about home as a location. When I returned to London, I hugged my then-girlfriend and my whole body just relaxed. I had this visceral sensation and there was this feeling that maybe home is not simply a place; it can be a person too. That became the sentiment of the song.”

Social media has played a huge role in your breakthrough. How do you feel about it?

Verrill: “When we started, we weren’t even sure if Good Neighbours was going to be a proper project, so we certainly weren’t sure we were going to do [social media], but everyone was telling us to use it. In the end, we stuck ‘Home’ up at the last minute to see what would happen.”

Fox: “I think we’ve realised that some things are meant to do really well on social media. That also means that other things don’t quite work and it’s not always obvious why. That’s why I believe live music is undefeated. There’s a fizz in the air when you’re in a venue that you can’t necessarily translate through two speakers at the bottom of a phone.”

Where does the name Good Neighbours come from?

Verrill: “It was originally just a joke.”

Fox: “Yeah. The name came from the fact we were nextdoor neighbours in the studio. Because Scott and I have had projects before, we wanted to test the industry a little bit, so we sent our demos out under the name ‘Good Neighbours’.”

Verrill: :And it was a really obnoxious email as well!”

Fox: “Yeah. The subject heading was ‘You should listen to this’ accompanied by a SoundCloud link. That was all it said. But it sparked a bit of interest that day and we quickly realised that something was happening – more than we ever imagined it would.”

Verrill: “It was a cold email as well. It wasn’t through any of our industry links.”

Did that make you more nonchalant with your approach than you’d usually be?

Fox: “Definitely. Both of us have experienced this industry in the past. You become attuned to thinking, ‘I’ve had my shot now’. Labels talk about it a lot within meetings. They say, ‘You did well, but it didn’t quite click’. I think we both had a ‘fuck it’ mentality going into Good Neighbours, thinking that if they don’t know it’s us we’ll just see if they say anything. When they all replied, it was as though our band pseudonym worked!”

Where are you guys at with your debut album?

Verrill: “We’re just finishing our album at the moment. We’re set to release that in April next year.”

Fox: “We’re trying to figure the album out. I don’t think we’re currently tied to any sort of running order. We’ve got a lot of songs, so it’s a case of whittling it down. We want our album to establish this world we’re building: one of big, blue-sky energy; something that people want to see live. We want to be that festival band”.

Prior to getting to an interview from January, I am going to come to one from Wonderland. from later last year. This amazing and hungry duo are primed for big things. Good Neighbours are already making such an impact. Do make sure that you follow their progress:

You’ve both had journeys in the industry prior to Good Neighbours. Talk us through them? What did you learn? 

I think it’s taught both of us a lot. We maybe listened to one too many opinions last time round, and both ended up with projects we didn’t love. Where as this time we kep the whole project a secret until we truly truly loved it. It’s really help us standout from the rest I think.

What do you think it is about your debut single “Home” that connected so widely with listeners?

I think the song came at a time when people needed to hear that? Home is a title that’s been done to death, but after a festive period with loved ones and in the uncertainty of the new year, I think maybe everyone was a little tender and missing their roots. I guess we opened up the conversation to that online with our tik toks, and people wanted to talk?

Congratulations on your debut EP! How are you feeling about the release?

Really excited for it to be out there. We’d love to say “glad it’s finally out” but it’s hardly been anytime at all since we finished it. I really think it’s a great representation of us and what we want people to get from the Good Neighbours world.

Talk us through the process of creating the body of work? Was it smooth sailing? What were the challenges?

It was frustratingly easy, we had a real flukey run of writing whilst we were in December and January, Writing “Keep It Up”, “Daisies” and “Weekend Boy” in back-to-back sessions. “Bloom” and “Home” were added late to the EP when we wrote them in January and they truly elevate the whole thing.

What topics do you cover across the EP?

The whole EP was written in as honest fashion as possible, we cover our lives in London. From the ups and downs of jobs we hate working in order to make rent, to the people we’ve loved and the people we’ve lost. It’s a mixed bag of truth, and we’re really happy that people have resonated with everything so far.

What do you hope the work achieves? 

I think we honestly just hope people hear it and want to see it come to life on stage. We wanna play even more gigs in 2025 and really bring the neighbourhood into fruition.

What’s to come next? This year, and beyond?

Who knows, we’re trying to stay a little starry-eyed and take everything as it comes. Maybe a track will come out of the blue, maybe it wont haha. Our main focus is gonna be nailing a couple more tracks for our album and playing some very fun tours!

To you, what does success look like?

Success was never in our minds when we started good neighbours, the goal was to write some songs in our little studio and maybe play a couple of gigs to our mates. So in terms of a shiny golden success trophy I don’t think we know what that looks like, so we will just get our heads down and work work work, so that in a few years time we can look back and be pleasantly surprised”.

I am ending on an interview from DORK. Included in their Hype List 2025, they celebrated a duo who are crafting Indie smashes that aim to unite a generation looking for connection. It is interesting knowing more about Good Neighbours:

Home’ was properly released in January 2024 and was followed by ‘Keep It Up’ in April. The five-track riot of ‘Good Neighbours’ dropped in October after a whole lot of live shows. “We were worried about being tied down as a TikTok band, so we’ve been trying to do as many gigs as humanly possible,” says Scott. “We want to showcase the whole character of the band.”

Their nostalgic indie-pop sounds like a sunny day, but there’s a darker edge to it. “Scott’s production is always blue sky vibes so it’s been nice to weigh that down with lyrics that talk about things like grief. It’s so cathartic to sing these big, expressive songs that mean so much to us,” says Oli, taking inspiration from tracks like Bleachers’ hopeful anthem ‘Better’.

“We didn’t talk about it when we first started but the message of Good Neighbours has become really clear over the past few months. We both grew up in small towns where it felt taboo to talk about your emotions, so hopefully being really heart on the sleeve with the lyrics can start conversations.” The fact the music is so energetic, joyful and huge makes it easier as well. “There’s something powerful about songs people can wail to, if they need it,” says Oli. “Our shows really have become this release for people.”

Good Neighbours are trying not to get carried away, though. “We don’t really talk about the future because we don’t want to overthink it,” says Scott. “We’re just taking things week by week.”

“We’ve seen plenty of bands come and go within the year, so longevity is the main goal,” says Oli, though playing Glastonbury, a headline show at Brixton Academy, and a summer spent playing festivals are all up there. “I think we’re way bigger than we currently are, in terms of aspirations and the way things could go for us. We’re not tied to a single genre either, so there’s a lot of different directions we can move in, which is fun.”

“The message of Good Neighbours has become really clear over the past few months”

And their next move is a debut album. They’ve already been testing a lot of new music at live shows, and Good Neighbours are planning on getting the record out by summer.

“The blueprint is the same, but there are definitely some new vibes,” says Oli, teasing a more experimental album that takes influence from overlooked 00s bands like Animal Collective and The Go Team. “I forgot how abstract some of that music was. We’ve been noticing the pockets of our shows where people could be moving a bit more as well. There’s  just no better feeling than seeing a whole room moving as one, so I think it’ll be quite a beat-led record.”

Releasing music as Good Neighbours never felt scary before. “There’s fear now we’ve had some success, though,” admits Oli. “Before, when things didn’t work out, it was easy to take because it felt like I was wasting that opportunity anyway. I’ve never had things go this well before and you just really want to hold on to that feeling,” he adds. “I guess we just have to trust that people connected to the music because it was us having fun. If we keep doing that, everything should be golden”.

A duo with incredible chemistry and sensational music, if you are not aware of Good Neighbours yet then make sure that you connect with them. I love what they are putting out into the world. These good friends are putting out into the world…

GOOD vibes.

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Follow Good Neighbours

FEATURE: Spotlight: Bea and Her Business

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight

PHOTO CREDIT: Saskia Kovandzich 

 

Bea and Her Business

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WITH a run of great singles…

and a 2023 E.P., Introverted Extrovert, to her name, there are a lot of people talking about Bea and Her Business. This is going to be a packed one for Bea Wheeler. I am going to come to some interviews from last year. So that we get to know this artist a little bit better. I would urge people to follow her on social media, as this is someone being tipped for success by multiple sources. I want to get some great and illuminating interviews. First up is a great one from NOTION. I forgot to mention that Bea and Her Business has not long released her second E.P., Me vs. Me, that came out last May. She discussed that E.P. and we got to discover what her upbringing was like:

It might sound cliché, but 20-year-old Bea Wheeler, AKA Bea and Her Business, always knew she was destined for a life on stage. Being the next princess of pop is a pretty run-of-the-mill fantasy for a nine-year-old. But for Bea, her unbridled determination has made it a reality, and despite scepticism from her older sisters, she’s ultimately had the last laugh.

The unconventional recipe of a family road trip, childhood naivety, and sibling rivalry planted the seeds for Bea’s path into music. “Growing up, both of my sisters were pretty good singers, and we were all very competitive. When I was nine, sitting in the car and listening to my sisters sing, I thought, ‘I need to be better than them at one thing.’ So I was like, I’m gonna be the best at singing. I decided I was gonna be a pop star,” she giggles on a video call from her home in west London. Most of us let go of our childhood dreams pretty fast. Hardly anyone gets to be an astronaut or a superstar in the real world, but Bea is making her dreams come true through resilience. After all, there’s no business like show business.

“I had to follow through with the plan because I refused to back out at that point. They were adamant I couldn’t do it,” she smirks. “And now I can thank my sisters for their character building,” she adds, casually poised in a bright living room, her hair tousled up in a bun. This glowing, candid charm is all part of the mystique that defines Bea as an artist.

With natural talent and compelling lyricism, it’s no fluke that Bea is forging her own path, armed with dramatic melodies and a hefty pinch of irony. “I like to waffle,” she says, having just told me about her plan to give everyone free Ben’s Cookies if she ruled the world for a day – milk chocolate chunk, for those asking. But when it comes down to it, Bea is pretty cutthroat. And her music is far from sickly sweet, as she opens up her wounds and unpicks coming-of-age stories set to a backdrop of beautiful melodies.

Her first track, ‘Born to Be Alive,’ was released just last year. Laced with razor-sharp lines, like “Never been a sucker for a valentine, I’m a holy motherfucker with my head held high,” truly setting the tone for her trademark sound: gut-wrenching, irony-infused, melodic pop ballads and punchy lullabies.

Bea’s sophomore EP, Me Vs Me, comes a year on from this first release. The project is made up of six strong tracks, driven by plosively poetic lyricism which pays tribute to the all-too-relatable pressures of entering your early 20s, unpacking topics like the fear of the unknown and struggles with body image.

Thematically, this project contrasts with her debut, which carries a more stereotypically romantic slant. “Writing the new EP, all my friends had gone to university. And I was in London doing music, which was a really weird transition. This EP marks the beginning of figuring out how I’m gonna do this shit alone.” One constant in Bea’s music, which sets her apart from other artists, is her dynamically fruitful lyricism. Witty, honest, and exquisite, her writing is a real window into her personality, candidly laying her emotions on the table, stripped back with poignant imagery and packing an ironic punch every few lines.

On Me Vs Me, the single ‘Sunburnt Shoulders’ is an ode to the dizzying hurly-burly of entering the adult world. “Wearing dirty clothes and oversleeping, When am I gonna do something with my life? Everyone’s got a thing, oh God, where’s mine?”, is an all-too-relatable rhetorical question for most twenty-somethings. It’s a song aching with honesty, remedied by a beautiful melody. “It’s my favourite song on the EP because it’s very honest about that time of my life. I remember the minute I wrote that song, I had a really special feeling about it. I started with the melody, and then the lyrics came to me, and it felt really special. Getting those feelings is rare, but it’s such a special thing.”

The emotional side of Bea’s writing doesn’t come without the merit of her ability to supercharge her lyricism with a comic edge, adding a layer of down-to-earth camaraderie. “I used to find it hard to express my feelings; I always said things in a funny way so people wouldn’t take them seriously. And still, humour is so important because the world is way too serious; I think putting humour in songs and not taking yourself too seriously is just an important thing generally,” she says. And there’s one influence that’s particularly prevalent if you know where to look.

The catchy hooks and punchy-line-worthy verses feel reminiscent of Lily Allen’s IDGAF energy. “I take a lot from her ability to be so witty and conversational without it feeling cheap; she’s an incredible songwriter. She made me think, this is how I can weave humour into my songs. My songs don’t all have to be about love, and I can take the piss out of deep subjects.”

Next on the agenda, is a massive US tour. Coming out of the internet’s ether, the abyss of touring might seem a little strange to the rising stars of today. “It’s like a constant phase of delirium!”, she says. Having scaled her first EU tour last year, she’s venturing across the Atlantic to make her American debut this autumn, where she’ll play in NYC and LA. “I’m feeling unbelievably excited. The fact that people are buying tickets to come and watch me perform still slightly baffles me and feels very surreal. I’m most excited to see how the new songs go down,” she says.

Along with her beloved bandmates, she’s armed with some impressive culinary skills to pass the time: “I can’t wait to get back to being a master wrap-maker on the bus. I know the band have been missing the ‘Bea special’ – ham, spinach (for health), cheese, tomatoes, and lots of hummus. It sounds basic, but it’s honestly magic.”

As with all things in life, you live and you learn, and the wisdom she’s packing with her for her cross-the-pond shows is crucial “I’m hoping my voice holds up. I have a very bad habit of speaking too loudly for no reason at all and going full throttle on big choruses. I think for this tour, I’m gonna have to rein it in a little!” Far from a cookie cutter, Bea has a unique It Girl appeal and she’s ready to take her business to the road, well and truly proving that a little bit of a sibling feud can push you into making your dreams a reality”.

I am actually going to finish off with another interview from NOTION. I know there will be more interviews online soon as there has been new buzz and excitement around Bea and Her Business. Early last year, the songwriter spoke with DORK about her then-upcoming track, Good Things, and her Me vs. Me E.P. I do think that this is an artist who will be on world tours and commanding big stages before too long:

The evolution of Bea’s songwriting mirrors her personal and artistic growth. From early attempts that included a humorous yet premature eulogy for her still-living dog, her craft has matured significantly. “The song that forever haunts me at every mealtime,” Bea notes. “My family never fail to humble me and my songwriting efforts after they bring up this one song I wrote at about 9 or 10 years old about my dog dying! Bearing in mind that my dog is still alive… “
“I’d like to hope that my current material has improved a little bit,” she continues. “At least I’m not writing about dying dogs anymore!”

This sense of humour and relatability has helped propel Bea to her current success. Her rise to fame was significantly boosted by her savvy use of social media, particularly during the global lockdowns. With no initial plan but a clear vision for her music, she ventured into the digital space, where she quickly learned the ropes and began attracting attention. “I definitely didn’t have a plan!” she admits. “I knew that I had to do something if I seriously wanted to be an artist. I guess I was lucky that I could consistently film content at home due to lockdown. It was terrifying, though, putting yourself out there for people to potentially destroy you in the comments and let me tell you, they do not hold back!”

 PHOTO CREDIT: Saskia Kovandzich

“It was all such a whirlwind at the time; I remember when my videos started to do a little better, people in the industry were reaching out, and I was going into all these big meetings alone as I didn’t have management at the time,” she describes. This period was a crash course in industry dynamics but also a validation of her dreams since childhood. “The whole thing was crazy, but I learnt a hell of a lot from it which I’m grateful for. It was all a big shock, but at the same time, 9-year-old me had wanted that all her life, so I think an element of me was like, ‘Hell yeah, it’s go-time, baby!’.

“I’ve now spent four years building up my platforms, so everything’s felt very gradual since then,” she continues. “Sometimes I really have to pinch myself and go, ‘This is kind of insane!’ I think I particularly get that feeling when I see people singing my songs back to me – the most special feeling in the world!”
Her online presence also led to surprising admirers, including one guitar-slinging Canadian legend. “I’ve heard Bryan Adams is a fan, which is a big one for me as a dream of mine is to sing ‘Heaven’ with Bryan on some big stage one day – aiming high, haha!”

The thrill of live performance is another aspect that has exceeded Bea’s expectations, notably her debut in front of 70,000 festival-goers in Oslo. “It’s definitely living up to the hype,” she states. The energy of live shows and the creative process in the studio remain her favourite aspects of being a musician. “It’s my favourite thing to do just being in the studio, so I guess every studio day feels like a bit of a highlight,” she admits.

 PHOTO CREDIT: Saskia Kovandzich

Like so many, Bea’s music is rooted in the every day – stuff that’s happened to her, stories rooted in the here and now. But that doesn’t mean she can’t supercharge the with a bit of fantasy and drama, too. “I love to blow things out of proportion,” she admits. “With all the upbeat songs I have written and released, they’re just slightly silly and very sarcastic! To be honest, a song like ‘Wow’ is very much rooted in my real-life experience – me really fancying this boy – but I don’t think the fancy was reciprocated; he dumped me after three days… but I got the song, nonetheless.”

When it comes to writing, Bea certainly doesn’t lack ideas. “I write hundreds and hundreds of conceptual ideas in my notes,” she reveals, “almost like these poems. I have to process a concept before it’s written into a song and flesh it out before I put melody to it.” She’ll then take twenty or so of them into a session, read them out, and see what sticks. “I start riffing melodies off the words,” she explains, “and eventually, after a lot of back and forth, it will materialise into a song.”

The life of an up-and-coming musician isn’t without its challenges, and Bea is candid about the pressures and the continuous need to prove oneself in the industry. Despite the highs, the difficulty of disconnecting and being present with loved ones remains a struggle. “It can often feel quite overwhelming and tiring,” she explains, “but that’s also the great thing about music. It’s constant, non-stop, and definitely keeps you busy! But the one downside is that it’s hard to switch off and be present, so when I do have the chance to hang with my friends and family, it is probably very annoying for them – my mind is always all over the place.”

Yet, her ultimate goal remains clear and simple: “My biggest dream would be to be playing stadiums filled with people who have connected to my music in various different ways. I just wanna make people feel things,” she says.

Bea’s story is a testament to the power of youthful determination, the democratising force of social media, and the universal language of music. It’s a journey that began with a defiant nine-year-old and has blossomed into a captivating artist commanding the stage. Every note she sings, every lyric she writes, is a step closer to that dream of massive stadium pop. Bea’s business is thriving, and with her infectious energy and relatable music, she’s aiming to conquer the world, one song (and hopefully, a decent Parisian baguette) at a time”.

I am going to end with an August interview from NOTION. A champion of her music, they went deep with an artist who is making big strides. In such a competitive music industry, here is something who has a distinct sound that is translating into a lot of focus and fans. A brilliant young artist who has a lot more to say:

The power of music is something she’s always been passionate about, but, she says, it’s different when it’s your music. “When you see what [a song] means to other people, it makes you think about your own music in different ways. The lyrics I write are really blunt and direct, and that makes songwriting very vulnerable for me because I’m literally blurting the words in my head onto a page. But seeing [people] come together and sing those words with me, and share those experiences – it makes me feel less lonely.”

It’s not surprising that Bea’s fans find so much to relate to in her music. On her 2024 EP, Me vs. Me, she’s centring complicated experiences – from being the only single one left in her friendship group, to worrying about being too loud and too much, to body-consciousness, and to feeling a bit existential after a party. “I’m terrified of myself / And the loser I might turn out to be / Party’s over and everybody’s leaving”, she sings on ‘Sunburnt Shoulders’. This is songwriting which isn’t afraid to talk about those more difficult feelings – embarrassment, anxiety, loneliness, having a debilitating crush and not knowing what to do about it – and it’s easy to imagine the crowds of young women at her shows this autumn, singing along with tears and smiles on their faces.

PHOTO CREDIT: Saskia Kovandzich

As its title suggests, the EP is very much focused on the self – rather than on a romantic muse or love interest. “The whole EP was about everything apart from love, mainly because I’ve been single for so bloody long!” she laughs, “But it forced me to think about how various other aspects of life made me feel. It’s liberating being able to write about things I’ve struggled with in the past, especially with a few years’ perspective.”

It’s an idea which is key to Bea’s creative process: “If I’m writing about the here and now, I don’t have any perspective” she says. “When I first started, I was writing at seventeen, but from the perspective of my fifteen-year-old self. You’re always older than the self you’re writing about. I found that helps me be able to convey emotion so directly, because you’re writing about something that you’ve lived and understood.”

And given her intensely personal approach to songwriting, is she ever tempted to (as they say on TikTok) ‘do it for the plot’ to gather material? “I’ve tried ‘doing it for the plot’ but I think in ‘doing it for the plot’ and writing about it, you actually need a lot of perspective on the ‘plot’. So ‘do it for the plot’ and then wait six months and you can write about it.” It’s not just a creative lesson, she says – it’s also a life lesson: “I think the consequences of the plot generally have a positive outcome – but they’re really not the one when you’re living in them and it feels like your life is over,” she laughs.

PHOTO CREDIT: Saskia Kovandzich

Raw experience isn’t all she needs to make music, though. “I read a lot of poetry while writing this EP. When you’re living somewhere alone and trying to find friends and figuring out what to do in a big city by yourself, it’s hard to do things for the plot! I started linking poems to past experiences, and that’s how I wrote my songs.”

If poetry isn’t cutting it when it comes to writer’s block, she has a foolproof solution: “Sometimes there’s been points where I’m getting nothing, and when I hit rock bottom I will go on a night out, or I’ll go down to the pub and chat absolute shit with my mates and not think about music. Just letting your hair down makes you realise you don’t have to force your brain to think of something!”

And when the muse does finally strike, she finds songwriting an incredibly healing process. She remembers, when she was younger, feeling uncomfortable sharing her thoughts and feelings with other people: “I used to feel like I was always being so imposing in conversations, that I wasn’t interesting enough or held enough value.” Now, however, music has become “a safe place, an island in the middle of the ocean keeping me warm and protected.” Writing the EP, she says, “made me feel a lot more confident, more assertive, and not afraid to say how I’m feeling.”

At the end of the day, she says, “Everything stems from the music.” When we talk about where she sees herself a year from now, her dreams are big – festivals, meeting fans, touring the world – but it all comes back to writing songs that resonate with people. “If the music’s good, everything else will follow. So my main thing is the music being up to scratch!” If her trajectory so far is anything to go by, that certainly won’t be a problem”.

I am going to leave things there. Last year was a busy one for Bea and Her Business. If you are discovering her just now then do go and listen to her music and follow her on social media as this is someone you cannot afford to miss out on. There is no doubt that the brilliant Bea and the Business has…

A long future ahead.

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Follow Bea and Her Business

FEATURE: Can You Hear Me: David Bowie’s Young Americans at Fifty

FEATURE:

 

 

Can You Hear Me

 

David Bowie’s Young Americans at Fifty

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I am looking ahead…

IN THIS PHOTO: David Bowie in 1975/PHOTO CREDIT: Photothèque Lecoeuvre

to 7th March and the fiftieth anniversary of David Bowie’s ninth studio album, Young Americans. This was a departure from the more Glam Rock-inspired albums that came before. Perhaps David Bowie does not hold Young Americans in the same regard as other albums. Produced by David Bowie, Harry Maslin and Tony Visconti, I am looking ahead to a big anniversary of an amazing David Bowie album. Perhaps an album that is more divisive than others, it would explain why there is less written about it than classics like Hunky Dory, Station to Station, “Heroes”, or The Rise and Fall if Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. It was a period of transition for David Bowie. 1974’s Diamond Dogs is another album that split critics. Bowie followed Young Americans with a golden run of albums that started with 1976’s Station to Station, then continued with Low (1977), “Heroes” (1977), then led to Lodger (1979) and Scary Monsters and Super Creeps (1980). Because the underrated Young Americans is fifty on 7th March, I think it is important to acknowledge Young Americans. I will start out with a feature from Far Out Magazine that was published in 2022. They revisited a divisive album that has gained more acclaim and interest after its release. It still does not find fans in all quarters:

David Bowie’s 1975 album Young Americans is perhaps one of the least Bowieesque albums he ever made. There’s none of the glitter, none of the theatrics, and little in the way of glam-era guitar pyrotechnics. Put it next to his previous album, 1974’s Diamond Dogs, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that Bowie was abducted during his American tour and replaced with an imposter – Avril Lavigne style.

Of course, his fans had come to expect these swift transformations; they were an essential part of the Bowie experience. But this shift felt slightly different, largely because it was the first time Bowie had decided to strip away a layer of artifice rather than paint on a new one. In this way, Young Americans was the first album in which Bowie was being himself – or at least attempting to.

Young Americans was written and recorded during one of the most fruitful and troubled periods of Bowie’s life. Anyone who has watched the infamous Dick Cavett show interview in which Bowie is clearly blitzed out of his mind on cocaine knows that the mid-’70s marked the beginning of the drug years. As he told Rolling Stone in 1993, “I started on the drugs at the end of 1973 and then with force in 1974. As soon as I got to America, pow! It was so freely available in those days. Coke was everywhere. … Because I have a very addictive personality, I was a sucker for it.”

However, that same American tour would also introduce him to the world of soul. At a time when he was desperate to jump off the glam bandwagon before it was too late, American dance music offered a way out. Bowie’s desire to reset saw him slowly replace his entire band. As he worked his way across America, the original musicians fell away one by one until he was left with a brand new line-up, many of whom had ties to funk, R&B, and soul. After getting in touch with Tony Visconti, Bowie set about recording Young Americans with the help of Isley Brothers bassist Willie Weeks, Sly and the Family Stone drummer Andy Newmark, Pianist Mike Garson and saxophonist David Sanborn; and vocalists Ava Cherry, Robin Clark, and Luther Vandross.

Vandross, Cherry and Clark would turn out to be one of the driving forces on the album, frequently taking the lead vocal role and allowing Bowie to slip into the background for the very first time. Indeed, it was Vandross who came up with the chorus for ‘Young Americans’. As the singer recalled in 1987, he approached Clark during a session and said: “What if there was a phrase that went, ‘Young American, young American, he was the young American – all right!’ Now, when ‘all right’ comes up, jump over me and go into harmony.” Bowie apparently overheard the conversation and ran with the idea.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. The production of Young Americans is littered with examples of Bowie collaborating with his session band in such a way that he ceased to be the auteur. This was the birth of Low and Let’s Dance-era Bowie, who thrived on what the musicians he was working with bought to the table.

And yet, for many fans at the time, Young Americans felt like a wrong turn. You can’t blame them either. The album was a complete overhaul of style, which alienated much of Bowie’s original UK fanbase while putting off new listeners with that near-parodical cover of The Beatles’ ‘Across The Universe.’ It’s possible to argue that if it wasn’t for the likes of ‘Fame,’, ‘Fascination’, and ‘Young Americans’ the album would be a complete washout. That being said, it’s impossible to imagine Bowie’s later albums without Young Americans.

The record marked a distinct shift not only in Bowie’s sonic world but in his whole approach to production. With its minimalist soul aesthetic, the album has aged remarkably well and still looks and sounds much cooler than anything on Diamond Dogs. So while Young Americans continues to divide Bowie fans, I don’t think I’d have it any other way”.

I want to include as much as I can about Young Americans. As I said, there is not as much written about it as there should be. A sense that this is a minor or patchy work from David Bowie. Between this Ziggy Stardust and Thin White Duke personas, many critics write off Young Americans as transitional. Inauthentic Soul. Bowie himself called it Plastic Soul. On Young Americans, Bowie was one of the first mainstream white artists to embrace Black musical styles. In the years after Young Americans was released, artists such as Elton John, Roxy Music, Talking Heads and ABC mixed Funk and Soul. Young Americans was referenced by artists such as George Clinton and James Brown. It influenced other Funk artists but also had an impact on early Hip-Hop artists of the early-1990s. Young Americans was voted Bowie's ninth best album in a 2013 readers' poll for Rolling Stone. Also in 2013, NME ranked the album at number 175 in its list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. I am moving on to a feature from Albumsim. They celebrated fort-five years of Young Americans:

David Bowie made a career out of steadily changing his style of music and reinventing his onstage persona. 1974's Diamond Dogs was his transition out of his Ziggy Stardust phase and into what Bowie described as his "plastic soul" stage, which gave us the album Young Americans.

This period produced what is arguably one the most fruitful and creative periods in Bowie's career. It was also his most troubled. In a 1999 performance on the VH1 series Storytellers, Bowie stated, "1975 and 1976 and a bit of 1974...and the first few weeks of 1977, were singularly the darkest days of my life. It was so steeped in awfulness that recall is nigh on impossible, certainly painful." Bowie's growing cocaine addiction was a contributing factor to this dark period, yet he made an album that would become his best-selling album at the time.

Over many decades, numerous British musicians have enthusiastically demonstrated their love and affinity towards American R&B/Soul music and Bowie was no exception. For his new, soulful sound, Bowie wanted to hire some new musicians and he gave his assistant a wish list, which included MFSB, the house band for Sigma Sound Studios in Philadelphia. The strings and horn-laden music that was predominant in what was called the Philly Sound commanded the radio airwaves and the charts at this time. Groups like Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, the Three Degrees, and the aforementioned MFSB had great success around this time and most of their music was recorded at Sigma Sound Studios.

Bowie couldn't manage to get MFSB because they were unavailable, so he used a variety of musicians including some members of his touring band and newcomers, Bassist Willie Weeks and veteran session drummer Andy Newmark (Sly & the Family Stone, Roxy Music). Guitarist Carlos Alomar took on the role of music director to help Bowie flesh out what he wanted Young Americans to sound like.

The initial recordings began in August of 1974 at Sigma Sound. Bowie brought in longtime collaborator Tony Visconti to produce and engineer the record because he didn't like the results coming from the studio’s house engineer, Carl Paruolo. He wanted to record the album with the full band playing as opposed to recording each part separately, so he needed someone at the boards that he was familiar with.

During one of the sessions, Alomar brought his wife, backup singer Robin Clark, and Luther Vandross to watch the band work on the title track. As the session went on, Vandross came up with an idea that would eventually become one of music's most recognized choruses. Vandross told SPIN Magazine in 1987 about a conversation he had with Clark during the session, recalling that he had suggested, "What if there was a phrase that went, 'Young American, young American, he was the young American – all right!’ Now, when ‘all right’ comes up, jump over me and go into harmony." Bowie overheard the conversation and thought it was a brilliant idea. He invited the pair to join the session. Bowie began to consult with Vandross about many of the songs, which led to him (Vandross) arranging all the vocals and singing backup with Clark and Ava Cherry, who was Bowie's girlfriend at the time. The entire song was recorded live with the band with the exception of David Sanborn's saxophone, which was added later.

Another important Vandross contribution to Young Americans was a song he was working on called "Funky Music.” While working on the arrangements for the album, Vandross was singing "Funky Music" and Bowie heard the song and asked if he could record it. Vandross replied "You’re David Bowie. I live at home with my mother, you can do what you like." Bowie made some revisions and re-titled the song "Fascination,” with Vandross getting a co-writing credit. The bulk of the songs were written at the studio with Bowie giving the musicians room to collaborate. When listening to Young Americans, you get a sense of chill. No pyrotechnics or gimmicks that might have been associated with Bowie's previous output.

Bowie had been known to be a tireless worker in the studio, but on Young Americans, he worked even harder than he had before. He wanted commercial success in the States and to make a record that honored a genre that he loved and respected.

Bowie regretted calling his album "plastic soul" and in an interview with Q Magazine in 1990, he stated, "Yes, I shouldn’t have been quite so hard on myself, because looking back, it was pretty good white, blue-eyed soul. At the time I still had an element of being the artist who just throws things out unemotionally. But it was quite definitely one of the best bands I ever had. Apart from Carlos Alomar there was David Sanborn on saxophone and Luther Vandross on backing vocals. It was a powerhouse of a band. And I was like most English who come over to America for the first time, totally blown away by the fact that the blacks in America had their own culture, and it was positive and they were proud of it. And it didn’t seem like black culture in Britain at that time. And to be right there in the middle of it was just intoxicating, to go into the same studios as all these great artists, Sigma Sound. Good period—as a musician it was a fun period.”

Bowie finished recording Young Americans in eleven days, recording at least one track a day. During the time at Sigma, a group of Bowie fans waited outside the studio, hoping to get at least a glimpse of him and on the final day of recording, he brought them in to listen. After listening to the album a second time, an impromptu dance party broke out. Confident that he had an almost completed album that only needed to be mixed, Bowie took his band back on the road to finish the Diamond Dogs tour, which was now dubbed the Soul Tour. At that point in time, the track list for the album did not include two songs that were on the final product.

Under the impression that Young Americans was done, Visconti returned to England to work on other projects. Towards the end of 1974, Bowie struck up a friendship with John Lennon, which resulted in them getting together at Electric Lady Studios in January 1975. In the studio, Alomar had been working on a riff and when Lennon heard it, he started to sing the word "aim" over it. Bowie changed the word to "Fame" and began writing lyrics based on a conversation he had with Lennon about the horrible things that come along with stardom: the entourages, dubious managers, and the shallowness of the rock & roll lifestyle, among other burdens. Bowie also recorded a cover of the Beatles’ "Across the Universe.” Much to his chagrin, Visconti was not present for this session. In his autobiography, Visconti reflected, "I have to go down on record as saying that I love ‘Fame’ and would’ve liked to be a part of the team that made it. Maybe this was my karma for refusing to record ‘Space Oddity’ (I jest)."

Bowie's Young Americans stands out in his prolific discography because nothing else in his catalog sounds like it. It was a much needed break from his previous records. It still holds up and is a great lead-in to Station to Station (1976). It's unquestionably one of Bowie's best”.

I am going to end with a Pitchfork review of Young Americans. Reviewing it shortly after David Bowie’s death in 2016, they wrote how “Young Americans represented David Bowie's dive into soul music, particularly Philly Soul. Containing the stunning funk single "Fame," the album felt like a vehicle for Bowie to address one of his favorite topics—pop stardom—from a new angle, at a moment when it seemed likely to destroy him”:

In the summer of 1974, as he was traveling across America on his mammoth Diamond Dogs arena-rock tour, David Bowie got deeply into soul music. By July, he was spiking his live sets with covers of the Ohio Players' "Here Today and Gone Tomorrow" and Eddie Floyd's "Knock on Wood," but he was even more interested in what was happening in dance clubs—particularly the new disco coming out of Philadelphia International Records. Bowie booked a mid-tour recording session at Sigma Sound, the studio where Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff were constructing the sound of Philadelphia. But he wasn't working with Gamble and Huff, or indeed any of the studio's house musicians: He had something else in mind.

The soul-inspired album that came out of the Sigma Sound recordings, Young Americans, was yet another new direction for an artist who staked his career on ceaselessly finding new directions. It was also the first time he’d made an album whose chief purpose was pleasure. There’s nothing like the apocalyptic visions of Ziggy Stardust and Diamond Dogs on Young Americans; it’s as smart as anything he’d recorded before it, but also relaxed and limber-hipped enough for his hardcore fans’ less alienated big sisters and little brothers to get into. And it was the first of his records to feature Carlos Alomar, the ingenious rhythm guitarist who would become his live band’s musical director for more than a decade.

Bowie had met Alomar at a session early in the year, when he'd produced the Scottish pop singer Lulu's covers of his own "The Man Who Sold the World" and "Watch That Man." He drafted Alomar in to play at the Sigma Sound sessions, and Alomar brought along a couple of singers: his wife, Robin Clark, and his best friend, the then-unknown Luther Vandross. Always quick to recognize talent, Bowie immediately got Vandross and Clark in on the recording.

At those sessions, Bowie recorded enough songs for an album (reportedly meant to be called either "The Gouster" or, more cynically, "Shilling the Rubes")—although it would've been very different from the Young Americans we know today. Its most radical gesture would have been "John, I'm Only Dancing (Again)," a rewritten and discofied version of a snarling, homoerotic glam-rock single from three years earlier. (Bowie didn't actually release "John, I'm Only Dancing (Again)" until 1979; it was a minor hit in England and ended up on his Changestwobowie compilation.)

"Young Americans" the song was a hybrid of contemporary soul (the Vandross-led backup singers were all over it), the hyper-emotive '50s singer Johnnie Ray, and—another recent obsession of Bowie's—the up-and-coming New Jersey songwriter Bruce Springsteen, whose song "It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City" Bowie covered at Sigma Sound. It was also very current: Bowie sang "Do you remember President Nixon?" in the middle of a song he'd started recording three days after Nixon's resignation.

After that initial burst of productivity, the Diamond Dogs tour resumed, now so deeply influenced by Philadelphia soul that it was nicknamed the "Philly Dogs" tour. Bowie ditched most of his elaborate stage design, and added an opening set by the "Mike Garson Band"—his own group, fronted by Vandross and Clark. (Their set included a terrific Vandross original, "Funky Music," as well as a reworked version of Bowie's hippie mantra "Memory of a Free Festival.") One of the new additions to Bowie's own set was a medley of the Flares' "Foot Stompin'" and the old jazz standard "I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate," powered by a funk riff Alomar had come up with.

When the group returned to the studio in November to try to get a little more uptempo oomph into the album, they unsuccessfully tried to record "Foot Stomping." They did, however, come up with two killer additions to Young Americans: Bowie's dreamy, spiraling slow one "Win," and his lyrical rewrite of Vandross's "Funky Music" as the haunting "Fascination."

Bowie had also befriended John Lennon around that time, and invited him along to play guitar on a cover of his Beatles-era song "Across the Universe" at a final session in January, 1975. (Also present then, for the first time on a Bowie record: drummer Dennis Davis, who would go on to be the hidden rhythmic genius of all of his records up through 1980's Scary Monsters.) "Across the Universe" is the album's one genuine embarrassment, Vegas-y and bathetic. But bringing Lennon in yielded an unexpected dividend: Alomar's "Foot Stompin'" riff, a bit of arrangement brainstorming from Lennon, and a sharp, bitter lyric from Bowie combined, very quickly, into the stunning funk track "Fame." (Young Americans ended up being curiously Lennon-heavy: there's even a slightly mangled line from "A Day in the Life" in the middle of "Young Americans.")

"Fame" was a knockout, the song that gave Bowie his first American #1 single, and the soul world that he so admired took it to heart. By November, 1975, it landed Bowie on "Soul Train." (He wasn't the first white solo performer to play the show, but he was close.) George Clinton, by his own admission, modified its groove into "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)." And James Brown paid Bowie the ultimate backhanded compliment: The instrumental track of his 1976 single "Hot (I Need to Be Loved, Loved, Loved, Loved)" was a note-for-note duplicate of "Fame."

In the context of Bowie's flabbergasting '70s, Young Americans is distinctly a transitional record. It doesn't have the mad theatrical scope of Diamond Dogs or the formal audacity of Station to Station; at times, it comes off as an artist trying very hard to demonstrate how unpredictable he is. You couldn't mistake it for an actual Philly soul record, although like the LPs Bowie was devouring at the time, it often comes off as hits-plus-filler. Still, a good deal of the filler is lovely, and recording funk and disco in 1974 put him way ahead of the curve. While there had already been a handful of disco hits on the pop charts, no other established rock musician had yet tried to do anything similar, and Bowie pulled it off in a way that not only didn't seem crass but gave Luther Vandross his big break”.

I do hope that Young Americans gets more attention and love in future years. People noting its huge influence. Even if it was not what people were used to or expected from David Bowie, it was much more than him inauthentically trying out Funk and Soul. Also, the albums sports some of Bowie’s final material. Songs like Fame and Young Americans. Timeless songs Another reinvention and music evolution that Bowie pulled off with aplomb. On 7th March, it will be fifty years since Young Americans weas released. I think it is among Bowie’s best albums. It is a piece of his musical history that warrants…

MUCH more respect.

FEATURE: The Digital Mixtape: Bob Marley at Eighty

FEATURE:

 

 

The Digital Mixtape

PHOTO CREDIT: David Burnett

 

Bob Marley at Eighty

_________

IT may sound maudlin…

marking the birthday of an artist that is no longer with us. However, as this artist is Bob Marley, it is well worth paying tribute to him. On 6th February, it would have been his eightieth birthday. Someone who has this incredible legacy and influence, I will end with a playlist combining the best Bob Marley music. Much of it with The Wailers. I am starting with this biography from AllMusic:

Reggae's most transcendent and iconic figure, Bob Marley was the first Jamaican artist to achieve international superstardom, in the process introducing the music of his native island nation to the far-flung corners of the globe. Marley's music gave voice to the day-to-day struggles of the Jamaican experience, vividly capturing not only the plight of the country's impoverished and oppressed but also the devout spirituality that remains their source of strength. Backed by his all-star band the Wailers, Marley delivered classics in the ska era of the early '60s, all but invented roots music with '70s albums like Catch a Fire, and offered millions of listeners an entry point to reggae with his posthumous best-of collection, 1984's Legend. His songs of faith, devotion, and revolution created a legacy that continues to live on not only through the music of his extended family but also through generations of artists around the world touched by his genius.

Robert Nesta Marley was born February 6, 1945, in rural St. Ann's Parish, Jamaica; the son of a middle-aged white father and teenaged Black mother, he left home at 14 to pursue a music career in Kingston, becoming a pupil of local singer and devout Rastafarian Joe Higgs. He cut his first single, "Judge Not," in 1962 for Leslie Kong, severing ties with the famed producer soon after over a monetary dispute. In 1963 Marley teamed with fellow singers Peter ToshBunny LivingstonJunior BraithwaiteBeverly Kelso, and Cherry Smith to form the vocal group the Teenagers; later rechristened the Wailing Rudeboys and later simply the Wailers, they signed on with producer Coxsone Dodd's legendary Studio One and recorded their debut, "I'm Still Waiting." When Braithwaite and Smith exited the Wailers, Marley assumed lead vocal duties, and in early 1964 the group's follow-up, "Simmer Down," topped the Jamaican charts. A series of singles including "Let Him Go (Rude Boy Get Gail)," "Dancing Shoes," "Jerk in Time," "Who Feels It Knows It," and "What Am I to Do" followed, and in all, the Wailers recorded some 70 tracks for Dodd before disbanding in 1966. On February 10 of that year, Marley married Rita Anderson, a singer in the group the Soulettes; she later enjoyed success as a member of the vocal trio the I-Threes. Marley then spent the better part of the year working in a factory in Newark, Delaware, his mother's home since 1963.

Upon returning to Jamaica that October, Marley re-formed the Wailers with Livingston and Tosh, releasing "Bend Down Low" on their own short-lived Wail 'N' Soul 'M label; at this time all three members began devoting themselves to the teachings of the Rastafari faith, a cornerstone of Marley's life and music until his death. Beginning in 1968, the Wailers recorded a wealth of new material for producer Danny Sims before teaming the following year with producer Lee "Scratch" Perry; backed by Perry's house band, the Upsetters, the trio cut a number of classics, including "My Cup," "Duppy Conqueror," "Soul Almighty," and "Small Axe," which fused powerful vocals, ingenious rhythms, and visionary production to lay the groundwork for much of the Jamaican music in their wake. Upsetters bassist Aston "Family Man" Barrett and his drummer brother Carlton soon joined the Wailers full-time, and in 1971 the group founded another independent label, Tuff Gong, releasing a handful of singles before signing to Chris Blackwell's Island Records a year later.

Catch a Firethe Wailers' Island debut released in 1973, was the first of their albums released outside of Jamaica, and immediately earned worldwide acclaim; the follow-up, Burnin', launched the track "I Shot the Sheriff," a Top Ten hit for Eric Clapton in 1974. With the Wailers poised for stardom, however, both Livingston and Tosh quit the group to pursue solo careers; Marley then brought in the I-Threes, which in addition to Rita Marley consisted of singers Marcia Griffiths and Judy Mowatt. The new lineup proceeded to tour the world prior to releasing their 1975 breakthrough album, Natty Dread, scoring their first U.K. Top 40 hit with the classic "No Woman, No Cry." Sold-out shows at the London Lyceum, where Marley played to racially mixed crowds, yielded the superb Live! later that year, and with the success of 1976's Rastaman Vibration, which hit the Top Ten in the U.S., it became increasingly clear that his music had carved its own niche within the pop mainstream.

As great as Marley's fame had grown outside of Jamaica, at home he was viewed as a figure of almost mystical proportions, a poet and prophet whose every word had the nation's collective ear. His power was perceived as a threat in some quarters, and on December 3, 1976, he was wounded in an assassination attempt; the ordeal forced him to leave Jamaica for over a year. Released in 1977, Exodus was his biggest record to date, generating the hits "Jamming," "Waiting in Vain," and "One Love/People Get Ready"; Kaya was another smash, highlighted by the gorgeous "Is This Love" and "Satisfy My Soul." Another classic live date, Babylon by Bus, preceded the release of 1979's Survival. Kicked off by a concert in the newly liberated Zimbabwe, 1980 loomed as Marley's biggest year yet; a tour of the U.S. was announced, but he collapsed while jogging in New York's Central Park, and it was discovered he suffered from cancer that had spread to his brain, lungs, and liver. Uprising was the final album released in Marley's lifetime -- he died May 11, 1981, at age 36.

Posthumous efforts including 1983's Confrontation, the best-selling 1984 retrospective Legend, and the 2012 documentary Marley kept the man's music alive. In the wake of her husband's passing, Rita Marley scored a solo hit with "One Draw," but despite the subsequent success of singles "Many Are Called" and "Play Play," she had largely withdrawn from performing by the mid-'80s to focus on raising her children. Oldest son David, better known as Ziggy, went on to score considerable pop success as the leader of the Melody Makers, a Marley family group comprising siblings CedellaStephen, and Sharon; their 1988 single "Tomorrow People" was a Top 40 U.S. hit, a feat even Bob himself never accomplished. Damian Marley, Bob's youngest son, embraced a musical style that integrated reggae, R&B, and hip-hop, and in 2005 he scored a major hit with the single "Welcome to Jamrock." Damian has also collaborated with the likes of Mariah CareyBruno Mars, and Sean PaulKy-Mani Marley, whose music also fuses elements of reggae and hip-hop, made his international breakthrough with the 2000 album The Journey and the single "Gotta Be Movin' on Up," a collaboration with the conscious hip-hop duo P.M. Dawn. And Damian and Ziggy's half-brother Julian Marley (he grew up in England with his mother, Lucy Pounder) released his debut album, Lion in the Morning, in 1996, going on to earn a Grammy nomination for 2009's Awake.

Marley himself remained synonymous with reggae's worldwide popularity long after his death, and the wealth of music he left behind was repackaged, remixed, re-examined, and re-released regularly throughout the decades in the form of both legitimate projects and a never-ending string of bootleg releases. Apart from the obvious impact of Legend (which was certified platinum more than 15 times over and holds the distinction of best-selling reggae album of all time,) other releases of note issued after Marley's death include 1999's Chant Down Babylon, a hip-hop reworking of Marley classics that boasted contributions from the RootsLauryn HillRakim, and others and 2009's B Is for Bob, which reimagines selections from his catalog as children's songs. In 2023, Island Records produced and released Africa Unite. Titled after the sixth track on Marley’s 1979 Survival album, it offered a roster of contemporary Afrobeat artists including Tiwa SavageSarkodie, Utty O, WinkyAfro B, , and Patoranking -- all adding their voices and rhythms to the Wailers' enduring songs”.

On 6th February, the world will mark Bob Marley’s eightieth birthday. I hope there is a lot of celebration around his music and what he left the world. Never forgotten, he is one of these artists we will be talking about for generations. His fire keeps burning strong. This is a salute to…

A true legend.

FEATURE: Do You Know What I Really Need? Kate Bush’s Title Track, Hounds of Love, at Thirty-Nine

FEATURE:

 

 

Do You Know What I Really Need?

  

Kate Bush’s Title Track, Hounds of Love, at Thirty-Nine

_________

I have written a lot…

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush behind the camera whilst directing the video for Hounds of Love/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

about this particular track. Every year on its anniversary, I like to return to it. As it is thirty-nine on 17th February, it is important to spend some time with the majestic and emotional Hounds of Love. New perspectives on the track. The third single from the album of the same name, it reached eighteen in the U.K. It seems outrageous that a song so iconic and genius barely cracked the top twenty! There are a few reasons why I want to write about this song once more. Apart from the anniversary angle, it is also considered by some to be Kate Bush’s finest songs. Always a tussle between this, Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) and maybe Wuthering Heights. I think this single also contained some of her most interesting B-sides. On the U.K. 7” was The Handsome Cabin Boy. A very different song to Hounds of Love, The Handsome Cabin Boy portrays a common sailor's dream that among the crew is a girl dressed as a boy. It is a traditional song Bush gave her spin to. Burning Bridge was the B-side of the U.S. 7”. Bush sees this song as positive and trivial, with superficial lyrics. She knew it was going to be the B-side of Cloudbusting (the second single from Hounds of Love), but I like the fact it reached the U.S. audience as the B-side for Hounds of Love. In terms of the musicians who played on Hounds of Love, it is percussion-heavy. Stuart Elliott and Charlie Morgan handling percussion duties. Kate Bush handling Fairlight CMI, Yamaha CS-80, with some stirring and beautiful cello from Jonathan Williams. Such an epic and big track that sounds like more people are on it. I would have loved to have been in the studio – her bespoke studio at East Wickham Farm – when this song was being recorded. Bush providing these simply incredible vocals. I will dive into the song in a second. In terms of its meaning, and when Bush sings about being chased by love’s hounds, it is not necessarily so they can attack her. Maybe just play with her. Her running away could be because she feels love will eat her and cause harm. Instead, she might be fearful of love in general, not realising it can be a good and positive thing.

It is perhaps no surprise Hounds of Love reached eighteen when the press reaction was quite muted. A song this good would get nothing but love today. However, in 1986, there was some ambiguity that was entirely underserved. A whiff of misogyny making their way through:

All mock, muted orchestration and thumping mock-tribal drums, this is Kate simply being Kate, and whether that makes you want to roll around in sandpit is strictly up to you.

Jim Reid, Record Mirror, 22 February 1986

Bush has always strived to be different, but this quest has often led her astray – an olive stone in the ashtray of life. ‘Hounds of Love’ eschews the lentil nightmare as Bush reaches notes most groups never even dream of.

Ted Mico, Melody Maker, 22 February 1986”.

Before exploring Bush’s stunning title track, it is worth sourcing a couple of interview snippets where Kate Bush explored the background and meaning of Hounds of Love. A single that was unlike anything around it. Even though audiences heard it in 1985 when the Hounds of Love album was released, it gained new focus the following year:

[‘Hounds Of Love’] is really about someone who is afraid of being caught by the hounds that are chasing him. I wonder if everyone is perhaps ruled by fear, and afraid of getting into relationships on some level or another. They can involve pain, confusion and responsibilities, and I think a lot of people are particularly scared of responsibility. Maybe the being involved isn’t as horrific as your imagination can build it up to being – perhaps these baying hounds are really friendly.

Kate Bush Club newsletter, 1985

The ideas for ‘Hounds Of Love’, the title track, are very much to do with love itself and people being afraid of it, the idea of wanting to run away from love, not to let love catch them, and trap them, in case th hounds might want to tear them to pieces and it’s very much using the imagery of love as something coming to get you and you’ve got to run away from it or you won’t survive.

Conversation Disc Series, ABCD012, 1985”.

Because Leah Kardos’s 33 1/3 book about Hounds of Love came out recently, there is new perspective on Hounds of Love and its title track. I am going to utilise that for features about the album ahead of its fortieth anniversary in September. I am going to quote from the book. The song announces itself with a sample from Jacques Tourneur’s occult classic, Night of the Demon (1957). A favourite film for Kate Bush and her family, it was another case of Bush being inspired by films and T.V. for her music. I think it is a rare occasion when direct dialogue is in a song, rather than her quoting or paraphrasing. “It’s in the trees! It’s coming!” creates this mix of rush, terror and ambiguity. Is it birds that are in the trees? A dark spirit? A sense of fear and shadow that will engulf the heroine?

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in an outtake from the Hounds of Love cover shoot/PHOTO CREDIT: John Carder Bush

Whereas Hounds of Love does not follow the story of Night of the Demon or nods to it too much more, it is an inventive start. I am fascinated by the technical aspects of Hounds of Love’s title track. Its “thick layers of thudding, adrenaline-drenched beats (combined takes of double-stick drumming from both Elliott and Morgan) kick into gear”. Not only does Hounds of Love not feature any bass at all. In terms of its percussion, it does not rely on cymbals. It is more about the heaviness and punch. The toms and kick drums being utilised. With its “3 + 3 + 2 cross-rhythm loop”, you get this sense of a chase happening – the Bernard Herrmann-influenced cello stabs brings Alfred Hitchcock to mind (the video for the single, which Bush directed, was influenced by The 39 Steps (1935) – and the blood rushing. The percussion representing the hounds or the heartbeat of the heroine. The cello about the racing pulse or the terror of the hounds. Are hounds chasing Bush to kill her or are they only curious? I have not mentioned the video. The first that she directed solo, its colour palette and feel nods to classic films.

I am going to come back to Leah Kardos’s book in a second. First, this feature writes why Hounds of Love is one of the best music videos ever. It does seem like a scene from a film. It is beautifully shot and mixes dramatic chase and celebration. Dizzying and wonderful to see. It is one of my favourite Kate Bush videos:

It’s a shot of pure adrenaline, that irrational rush of falling in love for the first time. Three whiplash minutes to express the insanity that throws into the atmosphere, leaving responsibility and real life below.

The forces of order try to capture the young lovers. A daring chase through the woods ends at a mysterious party, bursting with lights and color. The jig is up, but our heroine has a plan. Slapping handcuffs on her and her lover’s wrist, they take flight into the dark as the song spirals away.

The camerawork, the costumes, and the urgent sense of drama make this one of the best music videos of the 1980s, and all time as far as I’m concerned”.

There is a lot of tension and anxiety in the composition. The energy and pulse rate always kept high. Compared to other songs on the first side of Hounds of Love like Cloudbusting or The Big Sky, Hounds of Love has a different emotional spectrum and feel.  Leah Kardos notes how a jumpiness is evident in the “lyrical prosody of the verse, which crams the line into a space of two beats (‘when-I-was-a child running-in the  night’, ‘hiding-in-the  dark, hiding-in-the  street’”), echoing the shape and urgency of the similarly rushed ‘If-I-only could’ line from ‘Running Up That Hill”. Kate Bush did say that there was a definite masculine energy through Hounds of Love. 1982’s The Dreaming was big on percussion and a masculine sound, though it is presented and arranged in a different way. Different colours and emotions. The gated compression techniques that Kate Bush and Del Palmer (an engineer on Hounds of Love and her boyfriend at the time) learned with Hugh Padgham at the Townhouse sessions during The Dreaming. The microphones being set at a distance from the drums to pick up “an amount of indirect sound from the room, then according to Morgan, ‘compressing them like mad, really crunching the sound up … this ridiculous blanket of percussion”.

I love how Leah Kardos dissects the instrumentation and composition of Hounds of Love’s tracks. For the title cut, there is a continuous flow of Fairlight. There is a “Rage R’ looping chord sequence that differs slightly between verse (three chord, F – C/F - B♭/F) and chorus (four chords, Dm/F – F - B♭/F – C/F). The chords are bright, major, hyper-alert, with a layer of Fairlight strings pushing in the background with pin-sharp staccato. From the first chorus (at 0’40” with the words ‘Here I go’), the texture becomes pinned down by the unchanging root note, played by cellist Jonathan Williams. His rhythmic staccato obsessively saws away on the ragged edge of F, not quite a bass line and not quite a drone, but bringing in a useful amount of brusque, excitable Bernard Hermann-style horror core energy to the table”. Going deep with this track, it highlights Bush’s brilliance as a songwriter and producer. The lack of bass on Hounds of Love has been compared to Prince’s When Doves Cry – another hit without bass. The lack of low-frequency instruments “serves to highlight the elegance and power of its simple, intricately calibrated production”. Even though Hounds of Love seems terrifying and tense, there is playful energy and something lighter. The vocal inflections and lovely details Bush puts into the song – often in the background. The counterpart lines against the “THHROWW” of the shoes into the lake is hounds yelping. Bush that the yelping/yapping is the hounds of love. It is a charming and funny detail that adds some levity and humour to a film noir song! Leah Kardos commends the courage and affirmation of the lyrics. The upward inflections in some of the lyrics (“Do you know what I really need?”) is, as Kardos writes, “self-understanding”. The vocal frolicking “around the melodic space”. Details I had not noticed previously. How Bush twirls through the vocal outro. The affirmation and understanding that the hounds chasing her are there to play and are safe. Like a short film moving from a dramatic start and then ending on something positive, it is a wonderful experience! In terms of the time signature, role of percussion and cello, Bush’s vocal details and emotional palette. Such a rich sound. I often wonder what Hounds of Love would sound like with a bassline. Would it give the song more twang and a different energy? It was an inspired move by Bush as a producer to omit the bass.

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 1985/PHOTO CREDIT: Guido Harari

Leah Kardos speculates how some of the lyrical imagery for Hounds of Love was taken from the Powell and Pressburger 1950 film, Gone to Earth. That film is based on a 1917 novel. It concerns  a girl who adopts a fox and is soon pursued by a wealthy fox-hunting squire. Bush mentions a fox in the song. How she holds the fox in her hand. One that has been attacked (“I found a fox caught by dogs/He let me take him in my hands/His little heart, it beats so fast/And I'm ashamed of running away”). New depth and meaning to the lyrics. Kardos writes the following (about the novel Hounds of Love is partly influenced by: “The tragic story illustrates the dilemmas of female freedom, autonomy and entrapment within the confines of male desire”. The Hounds of Love video, as mentioned, influenced by Alfred Hitchcock. The cinema that is packed into Hounds of Love. Another song of Bush/the heroine being trapped by love. Her 1978 debut single, Wuthering Heights (from The Kick Inside). Oh to Be in Love (from the same album). Maybe even Babooshka (from 1980’s Never for Ever). If those earlier examples have a sense of teenage naivety and lack of experience, there is maturity and understanding on Hounds of Love that passion and love is complex. How we can “feel an instinct to run away from the thing we really need to face. It’s an exquisite anthem for the commitment-phobic that encapsulates something very honest about the ambivalence and intensity of romantic desire”. As it turns thirty-nine on 17th February – some sites say 24th February, 1986 but Gaffaweb says 17th February -, I wanted to revisit perhaps Kate Bush’s best song.

At that time, Bush also recorded the duet with Peter Gabriel, Don’t Give Up. She also abandons the plan to make a film version of The Ninth Wave side of the new album. Hounds of Love held in high esteem by critics. MOJO placing it number one last year:

No matter how refined the circumstances of its creation – built at leisure in Bush’s new 48-track studio – or how newfangled its production – still tangible in the hi-tech stabs and pads of Fairlight, and the crispness of Jonathan Williams’ cello – Hounds Of Love is red in tooth and claw, its breathless, atavistic fear of capture mixed with almost supernatural rapture. Love is thundering through the psychosexual woods, hunting down somebody terrified of what it means to surrender to another person. The song opens with a quote from British horror film Night Of The Demon but that’s the only moment it feels like theatre. From then on, Hounds Of Love maintains a dizzying emotional velocity, the relentless double drumming of Charlie Morgan and Stuart Elliott stamping down on the accelerator. Bush’s voice might dip and soften, but those drums are merciless, while the strident backing vocals, like a hunting horn call, goad her on if introspection threatens to slow her down. It never lets up, every line heightening the pitch, closing the distance between song and listener. It ends with a suddenness that makes it seem like she’s hit the ground and you’ve hit it with her, breathlessly waiting for an answer to the question: “Do you know what I really need?” The uncertainty, however, is not reflected in the confidence – the perfect, dazzling completeness – of the song’s execution. On Hounds Of Love, Kate Bush is going at full pelt, chasing the horizon, running her vision to ground. Not really the hunted, but the hunter all along”.

The Guardian placed Hounds of Love fifth in 2018. Stereogum included in their top ten Kate Bush songs feature in 2022. Last year, Classic Pop ranked Hounds of Love eleventh in the top forty feature. In 2023, Prog included Hounds of Love in their top forty Kate Bush songs selection (“Sharon Den Adel, Within Temptation: “[This song is my favourite] vocally because Kate did things that no one had done before. It was out-of-the-ordinary, and that’s one of the key reasons that so many people fell in love with her music and her voice. And her stage presence of course, with the way she danced, was a new thing that people didn’t see much. She was free, very expressive in her movements”). In 2021, when deciding the twenty Kate Bush songs that demonstrate her brilliance, Dig! placed Hounds of Love third (“Is there a single song that captures the curious mix of anxiety and exhilaration that comes with falling in love quite as successfully as Hounds of Love? Drums thump, cellos saw incessantly and the vocals are every bit as dramatic and breathtaking as the song requires – the lyrics depict somebody who’s afraid of what falling in love might entail, and all too aware of how limiting that fear can be (“I’ve always been a coward/And I don’t know what’s good for me”), before throwing off those shackles and surrendering themselves to the “hounds”. Kate later embellished on her choice of imagery in a 1992 Radio 1 interview: “I thought Hounds Of Love and the whole idea of being chased by this love that actually gonna… when it gets you it’s just going to rip you to pieces, you know, and have your guts all over the floor! So this very sort of… being hunted by love, I liked the imagery, I thought it was really good”). It is good that The Futureheads covered Hounds of Love in 2005. That said, I do hate it and can’t see why anyone likes it, as it drains all the colour, meaning and tension from the song. None of the depth and brilliance of the original remains. The compositional details and techniques. The awesome and distinct production. The depth of Bush’s lyrics and how she brings so many emotions and conflicting thoughts to the fore. I know some fans like it. At the very least, it did means that the (vastly superior) original was discussed. A brilliant single (outrageously overlooked and under-bought) that arrived on 17th February, 1986; thirty-nine years later, we are still talking about…

THIS supreme masterpiece.

FEATURE: Kate Bush: The Tour of Life: The Interview Experience

FEATURE:

 

 

Kate Bush: The Tour of Life

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 2005/PHOTO CREDIT: Trevor Leighton

 

The Interview Experience

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FOR many of my…

 IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 2005

Kate Bush features, I am exploring various books that offer great insight and fascinating chapters. I am going back to Tom Doyle’s Running Up That Hill: 50 Visions of Kate Bush. I have talked about Kate Bush being interviewed before. How it was an important part of her career, though she grew wary of them. Not the best experiences for her necessarily. One would imagine that she would engage less with interviews as her career progressed. I mean, that is relatively true when you think of all the interviews she gave between 1978 and 1980. However, Bush is certainly not averse to the media. She knows that she needs to be involved with interviews. I think the sheer excess and saturation that was the promotional haul of her early career maybe enforces and influenced a more detached or homebound aesthetic. Someone now who will rarely conduct interviews away from her home. She is perfectly comfortable bringing people in to her home for interviews. I do like how Bush can remain active and visible but also not see the need to trapse into radio studios, onto T.V. sets and do the sort of press that other artists. It must be fascinating for those interviewing her. I think a richer and more interesting experience than in years previous. More time has passed so Bush has put more stuff out into the world. She can look ahead to future work but also provide detail and discussion about her previous albums. For those enamoured of Kate Bush and who work in the media, securing an interview is a dream. It is one shared by so many people (me included).

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush at the Q Awards on 29th October, 2001

For anyone luck enough to interview Kate Bush, it differs greatly to other artists and how they will do things. Coming into Kate Bush’s home. Unless they are phone interviews, you get to come into the Bush household and there is this distinct atmosphere and mood. More personal and warmer than a hotel room or studio. It might be more dauting to be on her turf. However, as an excellent host and very warm, Bush never makes people feel unwelcome or nervous. She knows it is a big deal. Returning to the Tom Doyle book, he is someone who has spent hours in Kate Bush’s company. On a couple of separate occasions, he has spoken with Kate Bush. The first time was in 2005 when Bush released her eighth studio album, Aerial. The settings of Kate Bush’s interviews in the twenty-first century have been interesting. In 2001, ahead of her picking the Classic Songwriter award at the Q ceremony, Bush was interviewed at Harrod’s. Visible and public but also in this sort of neutral setting, the experience was not always great. The setting in this case perhaps a little visible and exposed. You can understand why Bush has preferred to be at home. Not being filmed for interviews. The fact people can photograph her in public. The lazy recluse tags still get applied to her. Bush seen as this media-shy and hidden figure. It is not that she wants to be left alone and project this secretive image. Having been in the spotlight and public eye for decades, Kate Bush has earned the right to conduct interviews on her own terms. In 2005, after a twelve-year period of no studio albums (1993’s The Red Shoes started a period of dormancy, though Bush was writing and creating during that time), there was understandable excitement about a new album. I know those that interviewed who got to listen to Aerial ahead of speaking with Bush did so in a small room where the album and console was pretty much bolted to the floor. So they could not copy or share the album. Practically signing documents that they would not breathe a word of what they heard.

IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 2005/PHOTO CREDIT: Trevor Leighton

It is exciting that Tom Doyle was originally meant to interview Kate Bush at Abbey Road Studios. That would have been amazing! I kind of think there should be a modern-day interview there. Maybe something filmed. A high-profile fan or writer speaking with Kate Bush about her career so far in the historic Studio 2 of Abbey Road – where she spent many happy days. I do hope that she does do an interview at Abbey Road. Tom Doyle was then told his interview would take place at Bush’s home. He was not given an address. Instead, he was picked up by a driver and taken up the M4 towards Reading. The diver told Doyle that he recognised him. In the sense the driver had Bush in the back of the car recently and heard her on the phone apparently discussing her interview with Doyle. Joking that maybe she should put a bag over his head, there was this cross of a hostage taking and someone being led into a wonderful surprise. The car pulls up and you appear before a set of gates. Bush does not live in the same house that she did in 2005. However, things are going to be similar in terms of the secrecy and being picked up. Quite a cool and luxurious way of going to interview Kate Bush! Maybe Bush would not answer the door. However, she lives with her husband Danny McIntosh, so he might greet guests. Bush walking in all smiles and laughter. One reason why I wanted to publish this feature was to dispel myths – that are still perpetuated to this day – about how Bush lives and what her home is like. Dressed in comfy clothes and appearing quite casual, maybe people have this impression of her being quite serious. Maybe thinking there is going to be something eccentric in the way she dressed. Instead, her home – as it was in 2005 – has rooms with antiques. A lot of space. Rather than a modest family home, Bush now lives in larger properties. The one Tom Doyle was in was a Georgian mill house. The recording studio a mere short walk across her garden. Quite an idyllic and restful place to conduct an interview. As Bush is among family and is on her own patch as it were, she did not have to worry about beating traffic and having to stress about outside factors. When she does eventually release another studio album, one can imagine a select few people will be invited to her home. The rest will conduct interviews over the phone. Even if the living room might have changed dynamic since 2005, there are going to be similarities. An ordinary studio home. Not the gothic mansion the press thinks she resides in! Her son Albert was born in 1998. A young child in 2005, now he is someone who is vastly well-educated and well-travelled. His presence not as obvious in the Bush household today. However, in 2005, there were DVDs and toys around. I can envisage her living room now still having a lot of films stacked up. Bush favouring physical media and vintage speakers rather than too many gizmos and gadgets.

To start any interview, as was evident in 2005, there are some nerves and reservations about the interview experience. Twenty years later, maybe Bush has changed her approach. All of her recent interviews have been done over the phone. I wonder when the last time was she welcomed someone into her home for an interview. I guess in 2011 when she was promoting 50 Words for Snow. Tom Doyle did mention how, before his first interview with Kate Bush, he gave her his mobile number. It meant that she could have a say about anything she was uncomfortable with. The two could have a dialogue. Bush did call a couple of days or so after they met to change a few trivial details. Doyle explained how that first meeting and subsequent phone calls with her revealed the real Kate Bush. Rather than the caricature that still exists in the media, Bush was this warm, gently controlling, self-critical and pomposity-spiking woman who was very natural, real and ordinary. Someone whose music maybe painted a version of reality that is actually more heightened or fictional. See Kate Bush today and she would be gardening, working around the house and going about her business. The whole interview experience does seem wonderful. Bush had a landline and is unlikely to be speaking to people online. The in-person interview at her home seems like she is greeting a friend. Rather than everyone being on the clock and there having to be this buffer – Danny McIntosh pottering about but never looking large -, there is an intimacy and directness that is rare in this age. This real unearthing who Kate Bush really is. How there is so much misperception and lazy labelling from the press. Also, rather than a new album being met with a rotation of cut-and-paste interviews where she is ferried around, Bush can be more selective about who she speaks with and where it happens. At her home under her roof. That is really important, exciting and accessible. Her home quite modest and grand at the same time. Small wonder so many people dream of an interview with Kate Bush! Some lucky few might get their dreams realised….

ONE day soon.

FEATURE: Spotlight: Tanner Adell

FEATURE:

 

 

Spotlight


Tanner Adell

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EVEN if…

this artist has been on the scene for a little bit now, Tanner Adell is someone who has been highlighted as an artist to look out for this year. There are a few interviews with Tanner Adell that I want to bring in. Give more depth to this amazing artist who many tip as the future of Country music. I am starting out with an interview from PAPER. Anyone unfamiliar with Tanner Adell should definitely check out her music:

Tanner Adell might describe her signature sound as “glam country,” but it’s more than that. It’s the future of country itself; it’s a future she’s been sprinting towards since well before her feature on Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter, or her induction into CMT’s Next Women of Country. “The day I moved to Nashville, I was sprinting, and then I never stopped in the last three years," she tells PAPER.

In a grove beneath the signature Hangout, the Gulf Shores haunt that Hangout Fest is named after, Tanner Adell sings, dances, rocks out on multiple instruments and even belts an acapella rendition of “Happy Birthday” to a fan near fainting. The heat hasn’t gotten to her one bit, at least from appearances, and for a moment the crowd seems to forget the sweltering sun. That’s how powerful her force of nature talent is in person: strong enough to make you forget the sun even rises in the sky at all.

The singer-songwriter — and fashion obsessive, as she makes clear to me later — burst onto the country music scene with 2022’s “Love You a Little Bit,” one of her earliest singles, later included on the deluxe edition of her debut album, 2023’s Buckle Bunny. The title track propelled this momentum further, with Adell hustling behind the scenes to make ends meet while chasing stardom in Nashville. In her trailer after the set, she tells me: “I sold everything that I had to be able to get there. I moved into low-income housing. I had my lights turned off. I had days where there was only cold water.”

Still, she never let the cracks show. On stage, she’s as polished as peers who’ve been doing this decades longer, the strength of her creativity and artistic vision showing in every minute detail of her outfit, her setlist, her skill on the guitar and banjo. Her outfit, custom-made by Levi's, is encrusted with ribbons and rhinestones. Her fans in the crowd are equally dolled-up; from my vantage stage right, I spot in cowgirl hats and boots and glitter and everything else that seeps through the doorway into “glam country” she’s thrown right open.

The inimitable nerve that propelled her to pack up and move to Nashville also shows in so many other ways. Like a tweet from earlier this year that, at the very least, aided along the feature on a Beyoncé song she’d prophesied about since her earliest memories: “As one of the only Black girls in country music scene, I hope Bey decides to sprinkle me with a dash of her magic for a collab.” I ask about those dreams and prophecies later. “I wanted to make sure over the last three years that I put in the groundwork, so that when the moment came, that I was going to open the doors, I’d be ready," she says.

Later, I leave her trailer shaken, knowing I’d just sat down with someone who will — no matter the shape of the industry to come — shake things up forever. My colleagues back in the holding area pick up on the energy crackling all over me, grip tight around my voluminous skirt, a grin cutting clear across my face. They ask how it went, and I tell them: “I don't even know where to begin. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

Congrats on the release of “Whiskey Blues.” Let’s start there. As you’re getting back in the studio, what are you being drawn to sonically and artistically right now? What inspirations are you pulling from?

I love Olivia Rodrigo. I love “Driver’s License,” I love Guts. I’ve loved “Deja Vu.” It feels like she’s the first artist in a really long time to scream into the mic, and be like, “This is how I’m feeling!” My mood right now is writing exactly what I’m feeling and thinking and going through. I’m currently in the middle of finishing up my album, that may or may not be coming out by the end of the year.

Is this something new?

This is new! I’ve been writing it since last July, but there are songs on it that I wrote a couple of years ago, that I felt very, very deeply tell my story. Parts that I haven’t really talked about publicly. I’m entering this new mood, and “Whiskey Blues” kicked it off. I disguised it with a killer, pop diva vocal, and it has such a fun beat. But when you break it down, if you read the lyrics, it’s deranged? I’m moving into that, and speaking my truth. It’s the mood right now.

When you talk about speaking your truth, I’m reminded of your song “See You In Church,” because I was raised evangelical. I watched your video back when you put it out about growing up in the Mormon church and realizing all these things about what you’d been taught growing up. Did you find it hard to put that song out, or was it healing for you?

“See You In Church” is a little bit of my — and I don’t really use the word "ratchet" — but it’s about my wild side. It’s this juxtaposition of what I was doing during the week and then still having to show up and act like I’m this perfect person. And how exhausting that is. Now I am trying to be as vulnerable as possible, and let my walls down, and that can be really hard. But I’m trying not to let those walls come back up, and prevent me from sharing with people. There’s a lot of people like you and me, and it’s really important that people know this! This is my year that I am spilling everything.

I mean, that lifestyle of kissing boys in the backs of trucks, partying, running into people you don’t want to see you like that, and then having to see them in church that Sunday. So, you played an unreleased song for us during your set. Can you spill on what it’s called, or when we can expect it?

“Silverado” is the name of it. It’s an early tease for the album and it’s about a part of my journey in Nashville. I picked up and moved everything to Nashville. I’d never been there before, and I sold everything that I had to be able to get there. I moved into low-income housing. I had my lights turned off. I had days where there was only cold water. There was a night where I had an event, and I had been out all day, and I didn’t have a car, so I was literally riding those Lime scooters around Nashville.

Oh my god, not the Lime scooters!

In the sleet, uphill, both ways. I was like, I literally have half an hour to get ready, so I sat in front of my mirror, holding my phone light up to the mirror, trying to get as much done as I could. I ended up wearing sunglasses at night, because I was not confident I had gotten my makeup where I needed it to be. “Silverado” is the more extroverted, hopeful side of that. The chorus is like, yeah, we’re broke, but we ain’t broke down! We’re getting through this. We’re wishing on the stars that we can’t see behind the clouds, we’re still wishing on them, we know that they’re there. It’s that hopefulness. I’ve written songs that are more of my interior life, that go into the same story as “Silverado," but done in a very different way. “Silverado” is more of a little snack off the album, and I’ll be playing it all summer.

I made a mistake by reading Instagram comments on my way over here, listening to “Buckle Bunny,” and browsing what people had to say on Youtube. There’s so many people who seem to think you wrote the song not knowing what “buckle bunny” means. Do you ever feel frustrated by how people who approach your music that way or do you pay it no mind?

There’s too many people that love me! You know what I mean? I think I’ve learned very quickly that the energy that I want to spend is on the people who love me, who love my music, and the people who get it. That’s all that matters.

I find it cool that the song takes this thing that is a misogynistic thing men say about women —

And women who are not girl’s girls also say about other women!

Exactly, and you flipped it on its head and made it a feminist anthem.

That’s what it means now, as far as I’m concerned. Everyone wants to be a buckle bunny this summer.

Divas link up!

Absolutely, divas link up!

To follow up on that, I was listening to you just now talk about low-income housing, getting your lights turned off, and those are some of the most “I’m in a country song right now!”

I mean, that’s my whole life. I feel like I’ve lived a unique situation, between California and Wyoming. I saw both sides, which is why I love that everyone is saying the music is “glam country.” That’s what I am, “glam country.” At the end of the day, I was showing up even though my life was falling apart. I was showing up with the ribbons and the nails and the makeup, and I made sure that I could do my makeup really well. Nobody even knew, nobody could tell that the last two and half years, it’s been faking it ‘til I make it, and making my own clothes and thrifting and finding ways to be able to show up onstage or at an interview or an event looking like a billion dollars.

I mean, it’s this moment that you’re in with your career right now. One thing I connect to so much in your music and art, as do so many fans, is how you have such a distinct and specific point of view. I’ve heard you talk a lot about what you took away from your time in Wyoming, but I wonder what you also took away from growing up in California?

I think LA is what gave me the stars in my eyes. I think that’s where the performance side, and the entertainment side, the glam, I got from LA. I think if it was just Wyoming, then I would just be tilling the field, planting seeds, farming, and I still do want a farm. If it was just LA, I don’t know, I feel like I’d be a badass editor-in-chief, but I like having both sides. Music is what bridges those for me, and I started writing really, really young. I’m half and half, and I’ve been half and half my whole life: biracial, California, Wyoming. LA gave me the “glam” in “glam country”.

I am moving on to an interview from REVOLT. They explore the phenomenal work of Tanner Adell, but they also write how her influence goes beyond music. Someone who is making a big difference in the world. Even though I am a bit late to the party, I really love what Adell is putting out:

Tanner Adell was always destined to be a princess. No, not prim, proper or precious, but powerful. Growing up with a voracious love for stories, she was captivated by the tales of brave heroines. “The Goose Girl” by Shannon Hale left an indelible mark on her young imagination. “I’ve always loved stories like that — princesses on a journey,” she told REVOLT in this exclusive interview, adding that Disney’s Brave is one of her favorites. “I just love bada** princesses.” Little did she know that this early fascination with fierce female protagonists would set the stage for her own character arc.

Nowadays, the star appears to be living a story straight out of a fairytale: A collaboration with Beyoncé under her belt, performing all over the world, a song on a major movie soundtrack, a historic televised award show performance, and donning dazzling designer dresses — all while the world can’t get enough of her. So, how did a girl from Lexington, Kentucky become one of Nashville, Tennessee’s shining stars?

The singer-songwriter's journey to the limelight began rather differently than that of most country artists. As a biracial child adopted by a white family and raised in a strict Mormon milieu, her early years oscillated between two different worlds. “I grew up in a unique situation between California and Wyoming, seeing both the Beyoncé and George Strait of it all,” she illustrated. This diverse upbringing is reflected in her eclectic sound. But it was Nashville — her home of the last three years — where the country pop artist honed her craft. “I’m making my strides in country music and mainstream music in general,” she shared.

When Queen Bey announced her next era after RENAISSANCE, Adell remained determined to land on her radar. “Beyoncé is just someone that I've always looked up to and really loved and wanted to collaborate with,” the "Love You a Little Bit” singer said. Though she was met with doubt by many, they were forced to eat their words in March when Beyoncé’s official foray into the country genre was released and Adell was featured on the project — twice. While the specifics of their collaboration remain a mystery, participating in “BLACKBIIRD” and “AMERIICAN REQUIEM” on COWBOY CARTER was a pivotal moment in her career.

Expressing her gratitude for the “incredible stepping stone,” Adell reflected, “I’m excited to finish the year strong and grateful for the incredible opportunities and doors that have opened.” Beyoncé became the first Black female country artist to top the genre’s charts, and Adell experienced her own firsts thereafter, including her Billboard debut.

In June, Adell became the first female country artist to ever perform at the BET Awards since its inception in 2001. She stunned the crowd in her signature sandy blonde waist-length tresses, pigmented lilac eyeshadow and an all-white lace ensemble. Her performance of the viral track “Buckle Bunny” along with her latest single, the insanely catchy “Cowboy Break My Heart,” was a defining moment. You’d never believe this was Adell’s first-ever award show appearance with the way she effortlessly blended classic country with pop sensibilities and Hip Hop undertones. The singer flawlessly showcased her versatility, vocals and magnetic stage presence all at once.

Reflecting on the momentous experience, she told REVOLT, “I found out the day of that I would be making history. It was definitely a shock, but as I thought about it, I realized no one has really done what I’m doing.” And doing what’s never been done has become commonplace for the rising musician.

“Cowboy Break My Heart” marked the beginning of a new era as she prepares for what is perhaps her most significant milestone to date: her debut album. The song has both an upbeat version and a more intimate acoustic rendition that she previewed on Instagram, highlighting her commitment to showcasing different perspectives in her music. “Any good song can be stripped down and have the same effect or even be better sometimes,” she shared. When detailing her songwriting process, Adell explained that the “stripped down” version is actually the basis. “I write everything starting on piano or guitar... That foundation, especially in country music, is everything,” the artist explained.

She plans to carry this duality into her highly anticipated upcoming LP, which promises to deliver both energetic and introspective tracks. In stark contrast to her previous project, which had no features, her debut will boast a slew of exciting collaborations, yet to be revealed. “People are gonna be shocked,” she said, emphasizing that her fans will become more connected to her than ever before. “I'm going to be addressing the inside of me and what has made me this way and gotten me to where I am as well as the outside of me and how my exterior is presented to the world.”

Adell aptly describes her last project, Buckle Bunny, as a mixtape, since it features a blend of country, pop and Hip Hop influences, showcasing her ability to seamlessly transition between genres. Tracks like “Bake It” and “Trailer Park Barbie” will pleasantly surprise you, proving she can rap as well as anyone on XXL’s Freshman List. When asked about the albums that inspire her to lean into the more contemporary side of her music, she cited Frank Ocean’s Blonde; Tyler, The Creator’s Flower Boy; and Taylor Swift’s 1989 as pivotal to her artistic evolution. Adell’s appreciation for “really great storytellers and world builders” who push creative boundaries and capture the zeitgeist is evident in her own work.

When it comes to translating her musical identity into visuals and fashion sense, Adell embraces an aesthetic that is as eclectic and dynamic as her sound. “It's not just about the music, it’s about how I want to be represented aesthetically,” she enthused, discussing how her style choices reflect her artistic persona. She acknowledged the frequent comparisons she gets: “So many people have said I’m like a country Beyoncé.” She laughed, recalling a recent incident where Azealia Banks discussed her on Instagram. “One day my phone was blowing up. People were sending me her Story, and I thought, ‘Oh no, what did she say?’” Adell remembered, but to her relief, the news was positive. “She said she discovered me off the Beyoncé album and called me her ‘Black Taylor Swift.’ I was like okay, there it is!”

This blend of Beyoncé’s ferocity and Swift’s whimsy is a perfect metaphor for Adell’s approach to her craft. “I love fairies, unicorns, and all the magic,” she explained. “But I also think there’s such a unique strength as a Black woman... Take both of those worlds and combine them, and I feel like that's definitely me.” Comparisons to these powerhouses — though high praise — can feel daunting. The singer takes it in stride. “It’s a good place to live,” she laughed.

Beyond genre-blending, Adell’s music also reflects her personal journey and exploration of identity. Her song “Strawberry Crush” delves into themes of self-discovery. “[It is] the moment before you dive into your sexuality, like having a crush on someone and hiding in the grocery store because you see this beautiful girl,” she explained. The record captures the innocence and complexity of exploring one’s feelings so cleverly that you may have missed it if you weren’t paying close enough attention.

As a newly independent artist, her recent distribution deal with Love Renaissance, a label predominantly known for its R&B roster including 6LACK and Summer Walker, marked yet another significant milestone. As the first country artist to join LVRN, the entertainer’s decision was driven by synergy. “It was just such an alignment of goals,” she explained. The singer felt the label’s fearless approach to supporting her unique brand exemplified their confidence in her ability to break new ground. “They presented me with a plan that aligned so well with who I am as a person,” Adell added. Having departed Columbia Records in February, she emphasized the importance of finding a label that understands and supports her artistic vision.

As the rising star reflected on her journey, she stressed surrounding oneself with supportive, like-minded individuals. “Show me your friends and I'll show you your future,” she advised. This principle has guided her through both personal and professional challenges, reinforcing the value of genuine connections and mutual encouragement.

A trailblazer with her eyes fixed on the future, Adell teased an upcoming project that fans have eagerly anticipated for two years while keeping the details under wraps. “It’s themed, and people have been asking for it for a long time,” she revealed with a hint of excitement. Expanding her horizons, the "Whiskey Blues” creator harbors a desire to break into acting, particularly with the ambition to portray a biracial Disney princess. “I will compose the soundtrack. I will write the songs, honey! I will voice act this princess,” she declared with conviction.

Adell’s drive to leave a lasting impact extends beyond her career. “My little brother had a heart transplant when he was 7 and so I've done a lot of ambassador work for the Children's Hospital of Los Angeles,” she revealed. Fueled by these experiences, her philanthropic aspirations include launching her own foundation. She envisions a legacy that transcends the arts, aiming to support various causes ranging from children with serious health conditions to global educational initiatives. “Whether I have kids or not, this is what legacy means to me — helping others,” she shared.

Her story is one of fate, fierce determination and hard-earned success. Though we can’t control how or when we arrive on Earth, we can choose what to do with our time here. “I don't know how in the history of the world that it ended up being me, but I'm here and I'm ready to keep going,” she said, echoing the resolve of the heroines she once admired. With every song she writes and stage she conquers, the star inspires everyone to craft their own story and chase their dreams. As Adell embarks on her next chapter, her fans get to witness the magic unfold. Her story serves as a testament to the power of human potential — a reminder that anything is possible when we dare to believe”.

I am going to finish up with an interview from GRAMMY. Maybe not as known in the U.K. as she is in the U.S., I do hope radio stations here give her most exposure and time. This is an artist who is going to have a massive future:

"As one of the only Black girls in the country music scene, I hope Bey decides to sprinkle me with a dash of her magic for a collab," she wrote, minutes after Beyoncé premiered "TEXAS HOLD 'EM" and "16 CARRIAGES" during this year's Super Bowl in February.

At first, Adell was mocked for her pitch. "You're trying too hard, love," one user said. Another chimed in, "Baby, that album is finished with all the songs cleared. I don't know about this one. Maybe, open for the tour," another user remarked.

But she wasn't bothered by the chatter: "Those people said I look desperate, I'm like, 'You must not know me, b—!" Adell reveals to GRAMMY.com with a hearty laugh.

Confidence is the inner core of the Tanner Adell ethos. And her boldness paid off because shortly after when Beyoncé approached her to feature on COWBOY CARTER.

In Adell's first music release of 2024, she appeared alongside Brittney Spencer, Tiera Kennedy, and Reyna Roberts in Beyoncé's cover of "BLACKBIIRD" by The Beatles. It was a full-circle moment for Adell in more ways than one, as her father used to sing the song to her as a child. Little did she know, decades later, she would popularize the track's backstory — the plight of Black women in the American South — alongside one of her heroes.

But before Adell became one of Beyoncé's songbirds, she was also the Buckle Bunny. On the 11-track mixtape, Adell traced the provocative tales of an acrylic nail-wearing, lasso-wielding heartbreaker. But for every Black girl that listens, it's more than a country project. It's also a reminder that it's okay to be feminine and girly, just like Shania TwainCarrie Underwood or Taylor Swift.

Among her rodeo of exciting firsts, Adell tacks another on June 8, when she makes her debut at Nashville's Nissan Stadium during CMA Fest. She'll perform on the Platform Stage at the stadium; the next day, she'll play a set at the Good Molecules Reverb Stage outside of Bridgestone Arena.

Below, hear from Adell about her most memorable firsts thus far, from having her debut daytime television performance on "The Jennifer Hudson Show" to bonding with Gayle King behind the scenes at Stagecoach Music Festival.

Seeing Her Breakthrough Single, "Buckle Bunny," Have A Second Life

I released "Buckle Bunny" on the Buckle Bunny EP in July 2023. I actually teased it on social media first. Almost nine months before that, I had gone super viral with it. It was doing incredibly well, so my plans were to release it in January or February of last year. But, I ended up signing a record deal in December of 2022. There were plans for it at that time, but the timeline kept getting pushed back. It turned into a fight to get that song back into my hands, which was what prompted me to go independent. Eventually, I was able to work with my label, shake hands, and mutually part ways.

I started this year as an independent artist with this song that everybody loves. It's become a huge part of my brand, but it's really my life story. People might think it's a dumb song that was easy to write, but I was called a "buckle bunny." As a teenager growing up between Los Angeles and Star Valley, Wyoming, I was into glam country, and "Buckle Bunny" is the pinnacle of that.

"Buckle Bunny" was my first single that charted. I felt like I finally had broken through that invisible box that Nashville put me in as a country musician. It was me saying, I'm not going to follow any rules. I'm going to be as true to myself as possible.

We, as Black women, have been fighting our whole lives. We've been fighting for space. I'm purposely trying to bring softness into the picture, allowing women who listen to my music to know that it's okay to feel that way. We don't always have to have our walls up.

"Buckle Bunny" is aggressively confident, but I think that's the door to softness. You have to be self-assured to let your walls down. My newest single, "Whiskey Blues," is my next step into that. I have another song on my social media, "Snakeskin," that people want me to release. "Buckle Bunny" is like the girl who protects those softer moments.

In a way, I look at all of this as a relationship between Tanner Adell, the artist, and Tanner, the person. For me, Tanner Adell is the buckle bunny. Then, you have Tanner, who's on the inside, writing all of these songs”.

If you have not heard of Tanner Adell then make sure you correct that. No doubt an artist who is going to be a massive name very soon (many say she is already), this is an influential role model who has produced some of the most distinct and phenomenal music of recent times. A magnificent artist, we are going to hear her name said loud…

FOR years more.

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