Charles Connolly

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 – 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨

Charles has only himself to blame…

Music can be an outlet. It can join or define your mood. It can also be background nothing. Or, it can be unlistenable. More often than not, though, it can be an escape. A place to hide; to meditate away your thoughts. Your choice of choosing is usually – as it is for me – rather important. Get it wrong and you’ve severely let yourself down. Get it right and the previously fragmented pieces form a whole. If, for whatever reason you’re low, don’t be naive or gullible in thinking that a shot of “happy music” will disinfect your state of mind. Lowness comes and goes in all of us. It is something that we simply have to endure. I’m not suggesting you wallow, but, like illness, it cannot be shunned. You might be able to put it aside for a brief while, but soon enough it will bite you, and with clenched teeth it will cling with great tenacity. No, in lowness, “happy music’ is not the answer. You must ride the storm, waves and all. But Radiohead is usually not the answer, unless you enjoy punishing yourself – that comes later… The right choice of music can and will give strength, meaning and weight to the declining situation.

While the right music should lead you to meditate (in a manner), ridding yourself of extraneous distractions and pointless nothings, said meditation will leave you with the reduction you require. Only the thoughts that matter, with an increased clarity. Only then can you start to observe yourself. Analyse, even. From this point forth, you are your very own alienist (or “shrink”, if you prefer). With the clutter removed you can now clearly survey the carnage. Your initial query, “What have I done?”, is just that; an honest query. So honest as to almost be expecting an answer from above. But alas, there is no such reply. Then comes the first in a series of alternative emphases: “WHAT have I done?”… It demands a list in a childishly stubborn manner. The next almost lies in lost despair: “What HAVE I done?”… It suggests a genuine ignorance or unawareness of anything having ever been done. It usually comes complete with wide-open puppy-dog eyes. With still nothing close to any kind of response, our third alternative brings the eyelids right down with an aggressive stare akin to Lennon without glasses. It’s vicious: “What have EYE done??”… It’s a full-on boxer-defence stance, very much ready for a fight. While it suggests innocence, it heavily borders on blame. And finally we reach the dreaded final alternative: “What have I DONE??”… It’s a realisation that the ogre within is very much alive and kicking. You know what you’ve done, and it’s all your fault.

Is the automatic reaction to repent and fix things…? Is it, bugger! I mentioned earlier that punishment would come later… The time is now! You give yourself a damned good scolding. You thrash yourself into oblivion – if verbally. You mentally mutilate your being until the sweat pours and the energy is nothing more than weedy. And then you keel over, head propped up by the wall. It is not enough, but for now this movement has come to a close and an interval is much needed. Definitely time for a drink. You see…? THIS is what music can do for you. While it may not sound like much fun, to feel is to live. No one wants pain. No one should be forced to endure pain. But if the pain is already there (through any means), you might as well use it and work out what the hell it is. A friendly word of advice, though (why is it that whenever anyone says the word “friendly” in this context it is usually very much unfriendly and instead suggesting a threat?), try not to beat yourself up too much over whatever it is that you think you may or may not have done. Maybe just concentrate on making the whole saga an altogether finer one. “Then you can start, to make it better”. Failing that, you can just let it be. Either way, thanks, Macca!

From one penance to another, we slide into the realm of what got me here in the first place. Please welcome agablis (yes, all lowercase) to the Corner. My clever typing keyboard seems to have a tendency to try to turn this artist’s name into a dry, white wine, so apologies if at any point this artist segues into a Chablis. As to the name agablis, don’t ask me; I have absolutely no idea. But neither do I much care, because we’re not here for names; we’re here for music. And music is just what agablis does best. Despite the sound, this is not a band, group or beat combo. This is just one Oregonian named Sean Hurst. Being unsure as to whether this artist wishes to have his real name known (and what with me being slightly uncomfortable with an artist name being totalmente lowercase), I shall refer to him as “the dude” (a word so seldom writ by this scratchy nib of mine). I simply feel there is an air of cool to his music, and thus dudish. When I’m on the look out for new music, it all depends very much on how I’m feeling. I think by now you all know how close I am to “the song”, and usually it is chords and melody that I crave. However, sometimes I just need oomph. This could come in the form of gritty rock or even a sneaky, cheeky sort of electronic dance. These days, though, I do notice how much I need to feel. The music must suit, fit and elope with me to somewhere where people are not. My cosy affair with the one that knows me so well. ‘You and the Night and the Music’, replacing you with me. It might be classical, it might be jazz, it might even be weird and wonderful world music (I’ve lately been really into traditional Jewish music). But sometimes it needs to be something that is closer to me. Something I have caressed for just so many years. Guitars. And this is where the dude came in. He fixed me right up, like a doc.

The dude is a self-confessed lover of vinyl, which although pleasing me greatly, frankly doesn’t surprise me. No other listening method is so tactile, so organic and so in tune with its owner. Oh, and that’s another thing; with vinyl you actually OWN it. This would have sounded absurd 20 or 30 years ago, but these days we are basically renting our music collection. Not so much a collection but more like a cluttered drawer full of broken bits that may or may not come in useful one day. A far cry from one’s prized record collection built over the course of decades, relinquishing you of mucho pennies in the process. I have always adored physical vinyl records, but could never continue to keep a proper collection going, simply because it’s a very expensive habit now. The other reason is that I mainly listen to music on the go. And it always seemed a little pretentious to bring a battery-operated turntable on the Tube or the bus. Not to mention awkward. Not to mention embarrassing and absolutely absurd (if a little hilarious). And so I stick with streaming for now. The dude, on the other hand, simply HAD to be a vinyl fan, due to the very music he makes. It’s shoegazer stuff. The perfect thing for my own self-loathing. But potentially, the perfect thing to make me wonder if it is myself I am loathing, or in fact if there is anything in the world actually worth loathing at all! Of COURSE the dude loves vinyl. He makes music to dwell to!

If you’d like a quick point of reference, maybe have a listen to Mal Fantôme and Mercury Teardrop. There, you will get a little more than halfway. But every journey is different, and every journey deserves attentive attention. Immediately the space is wide and cavernous, like early Verve or early Suede. It’s deep and atmospheric, but from 0:11 to 0:27 the bass is surprisingly dry and potent, which I have come to expect from Chablis. It picks rhythmically in time with itself while the ambience hangs like a polluted fog. That is, until 0:27, where the depth of its de-tuned drone really comes into colour. I say de-tuned not in terms of dissonance, but in the way that all guitars and basses are de-tuned by one whole step, where E becomes D. I haven’t actually checked this, but it certainly gives the sound of that “drop-D” tone. At this point, guitars are creating a wall of misty soldiers, drums are kicking like they’re stoned but still on full form, and the bass is, frankly, swinging. All the while it seems as though there are some stunning synths loud in the background, but I suspect these are all guitars. The dude is certainly an expert at sound design. So far, the piece has been entirely instrumental, which, although a heavy dream of a thing, can get a bit “meh” after a while. So it’s just as well the dude opts for 0:48 as the correct time to bring in the most sensuous voices you never knew you needed. I chose that turn of phrase because the whole piece feels like a work of art in the form of hypnotism. The music is there to lull you into whatever mood the creator feels is right (heavy, yet clear and receptive) – the swing of the watch – and then you are in full eager form to listen to what the hypnotist wants you to listen to. From the heaviness of the music (true opium in sound), come the airy heavens of these voices. You NEED this. Now, these voices are undoubtedly female… And yet, I don’t believe they are. I can’t say for sure, but having realised the extent of the dude’s talents in terms of sound design, I wouldn’t put it past him to have sang these lines himself, then manipulated them in such a way that they sound female. Either that or he just has a girly voice. Or it’s someone else singing. But again, I do not care. I care about art, which is what I am listening to. Pure art.

At 2:13, the song does just what I had hoped, but really not what I had expected. Its soldiers disperse in all angles (many out of view), and sparse electronic drums replace the previously thwacked skins. But at 2:38 the skins are back but at double tempo – now, I REALLY didn’t see THAT one coming! It brings a more pop sensibility (perhaps sensible in this present climate of vinyl unlovers). And we’re only halfway through the song! 3:43 then orders the soldiers to stand at ease, allowing for the voices to come to the fore. Nah, those voices have GOT to be female. I’ll probably find out eventually from the dude himself. The rest of the song remains in double tempo once the soldiers have resumed their posts. Remember, this is vibe music; and boy, does it vibe!

Blur once coined the line “He’s a well-wisher and he wishes you well”. The dude’s a dwell-wisher and he wishes you dwell. He got his wish. I’ve got the bruises to prove it!

Finally. Now I can glug my well-earned glass of chilled agablis.

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on the Connolly’s Corner Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on the Connolly’s Corner Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 – 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙

Charles oils those cogs…

Feeling a bit fat lately? Breathing a little heavier than usual? Don’t worry, this is quite normal these days. But it didn’t used to be. Take a look at old photos of anyone under the age of 50 or 60, and they were probably pretty slim. This was the old norm. They ate fresh food and had a balanced diet. Sweet treats were a rare treat – hence the name. In order to buy said fresh food, one had to wander up (or down) the road to the shops (yes, plural) and buy it. It would then be transported via one’s arms and legs (also plural). Arms for to carry; legs for to schlep. These days, food is rather less nutritious, and there are far too many unhealthy options to guide your eyes into temptation. The double schlep is usually achieved pretty much limbless. Vroom there; vroom back. And like a deadweight we wind the sofa with a central blow once back in the homestead; legs outstretched and arms a-flailin’. And yes, you pant with much perspiration. Or perhaps you don’t like the idea of driving all the way there and all the way back, while sweating like a jogger from having moved several inches… There’s always Uber Eats! Eats by apps (these gluttonous plurals). Okay, so at least we all have the fittest thumbs these days… But is it any wonder that we’re perhaps less physically fit than we used to be? For the most part, I call it stubborn laziness. The good news is, people seem to be becoming aware of their physical slump, and so are starting to do something about it.

The bad news is, it seems people are mostly ONLY aware of the physical side. Oh, and good old mental (un)health (stress, anxiety, depression etc.). But there is more to our noggin than what we call “mental health”… Have you noticed lately that your brain is on autopilot? That for the majority of the time it is spent twiddling its neurones, wondering whether it will be needed at any time soon? Are we perhaps getting just a tad too lazy…? Do you remember when you were young (wait, I haven’t finished), being in awe of older people’s knowledge, views and wisdom? I certainly do. These older people weren’t just full of facts, but they seemed so quick-witted. There were layers to their knowledge, and they could respond with witty profundity. But what do WE do these days? We sit in stumped silence, hunched over a small Google machine; we get “the answer” then discard said information within seconds, with the full knowledge (oh, the irony) that it can always be accessed via said little device at a later date. Simply put, our brains have largely become superfluous. I believe this all began with the pocket calculator in the ‘70s. Maths (yes, we pluralise it in England) was suddenly seen by the young as a pointless subject; a needless and laborious waste of time. And to some extent, I see what they meant. But I wouldn’t be comfortable if I couldn’t do the simplest sum without the use of a machine. I would feel a little pointless. And so the mental (un)health aspect starts to creep in. There is such a direct link between the brain and the mind (hear me out, I know most of you think of them as the same thing), that one will very much affect the other. The brain is the internal machine that does the work, and it is required in order to feed the mind with much needed nutrition (instant vibes). Simply put, using one’s brain will make you feel good.

Alongside laze-inducing machines telling us “the answer”, comes another problem. A problem that has been going on long before technology started helping us on our “merry” way. We are so absurdly susceptible to suggestion. Although this has been a thing for (probably) millennia, I have noticed the soaring rise of “wait to hear what everyone else says before blurting out my own identical philosophy”. This needn’t be something so huge as your opinion on world politics, but even something so trivial as your thoughts on a certain wine. If you’ve read the “tasting notes” on the back of the bottle, chances are you will have identical conclusions as to it being full-bodied, containing mild tannins (regardless of not quite knowing what a tannin is) and finishing with notes of cherry and chocolate. We are very much creatures of suggestion (to the advertising industry’s glee). What might be a better “game”, is to taste first, then read after; then you can see if you agree. You’ll feel better, I promise you! But that could be the effect of the wine (hic!). In the words of The Beatles, ‘Think For Yourself’. Self-achievement is one of the biggest mental health boosters. In relying on machines and other people’s minds, there is little to no satisfaction. Which could explain that while I was making that ‘Hands Up!’ album 18 trillion years ago, I was on a high; and while not really making anything of my own right now, I am on a bit of a slump. Having said that, do you know how EYE exercise my brain? By observing and pondering, and by writing these weekly articles. The better the writing, the better I feel.

But what does any of this have to do with ‘You Wrote a Song’ by Unobliterated?? I’ll get to that in a bit. For now, allow me to welcome Gary Taylor to my Corner, for he is the entirety of Unobliterated. Before we delve into the song’s meaning, let’s cover some other stuff first. So… Who is Gary Taylor? He’s a full-frontal nudist. Ahem. What I mean to say is, he is bold and brave, makes sure you sit up and take note, and often has the guts to say what others would only dare to think. His clothes are in place, rest assured. Although living in Portugal with his family, he made sure to hold on to his English roots by way of a dry, sarcastic (sometimes even scathing) sense of humour – I’m sure you aren’t surprised to hear that this sits well with me, while it might give some others a funny turn. It’s an English quirk, just like other nations having their own quirks. And what has Unobliterated been up to lately? He wrote a song. A song called ‘You Wrote a Song’. Now we get to the song’s meaning? No, no; not yet…

Musically, Unobliterated is a master of disguised clever chords and chord changes. With most of his music you might find yourself rocking away (in a nodding fashion), completely oblivious to anything particularly brilliant going on. But believe me, this subtle brilliance is the reason you haven’t got bored and skipped. It isn’t jazzy; it doesn’t ever feel awkward; it’s what I have always attempted to do in my own music. To sound simple, while actually being rather more. The song starts straight in with oomph and dissonance. A welcome dissonance. It’s creepy, but it suggests something’s coming, thus holding your attention. The almost indecipherable lyrics are pivoting between dissonance and “home turf”. Interestingly, those lyrics that are difficult to pick up are exactly what make you pay closer attention. This isn’t a mixing error, but the genuine intention. Robotic confusion, if you will. Then comes the setup of all setups – a two-bar drum fill – as we sink into a “more pleasurable” verse… But it isn’t a verse. It’s a full chorus, followed by a verse. Which also sounds a bit chorus-like. The whole piece has such an unusual structure, which is – ugh – music to my ears! Remind me never to use that phrase when reviewing music. In hindsight, I think Gary – sorry – Unobliterated, has done something unique here, in giving the verse the words of a chorus. Because things seem to actually get more interesting in the other verse. The first verse that follows the chorus – see what I mean? He’s a crazy mixed up kid who probably knows exactly what he’s doing. I love it when artists are being arty rather than reading the manual d’art. Experimentation and newness!!

And after all this excitement, do we get more of the same…? Hah!! I don’t THINK so. This is Unobliterated: king of the bridge! Now, most bridges are how long; 10 seconds? 15 seconds? How long’s his? Try 50 seconds!!! And it’s a three-part bridge too! The first part is what I have come to expect from Unobliterated. It’s smooth, cool, and takes us down another road. But in part two, that road comes to a bridge (no pun intended), leading us to a new land! We have width, reverbs, delays, and ultimately an ethereal, ambient electronic paradise. I almost expect a deep trance-like kick to take over, but just as you think it might go full electronica, he makes a handbrake turn and careers off into the more familiar Unobliterated sunset for a brief part three. Gary Taylor remains the king of the bridge. There are just SO many moments in this song where I smile and tingle with “ohh, that chord” or “ahh, that sound”, that I won’t bother to list them. The final 17 seconds show off the most beautiful voice we never knew he had. The tasting notes suggest a finish of Frank Joshua with no hint of tannins (whatever they are).

Okay, okay. But the song’s meaning…? Let’s ponder on this a bit. I mean, it’s a good question. What IS this song about? But then do you REALLY want me to say my thoughts? How’s about I don’t say what I think it’s about… What do YOU think it’s about? Let me and Gary know in the comments. But if you come to this article a little later than immediately after publication, please don’t rely on other people’s comments for “the answer”. Just listen to the song, listen to the lyrics (the lyrics are in the description of the YouTube video – linked below – should you wish to read them), use your own brain and make up your own mind. Life is better this way. We simply NEED to be more independently minded and not rely on others’ thoughts and views. Be bothered, and write your own mini review in the comments if you wish, but focus on the meaning behind the song. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be long by any means (and you don’t have to do it at all!). And also, don’t worry, I won’t be doing this every week. I heard that sigh of relief. Lazybrains.

Remember, don’t look at what others have said. I may not mind you guzzling, courtesy of Uber Eats (still plural), but I might have something to say about Uber Cheats (also plural).

Listen to 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to/watch 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE! (lyrics in description here too)

Follow 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙀𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩 – 𝙁𝙞𝙜 𝙁𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚, 𝙇𝙪𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙖 𝙉𝙤𝙫𝙖 & 𝙍𝙞𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙖

Charles has no identity…

I’m reading a book about Paul McCartney at the moment. Despite assuming I know pretty much everything there is to know about him and his life, I find myself repeatedly floored by the most fascinating chunks of “Huh, I had no idea about that”. It covers so many aspects of his life and career, from family and friends to his love of literature and old ladies (not to mention younger ones). In some respects his life could never be considered in any way similar to ours. He is in another league. Incomparable. But in other ways, he is very much a normal human being with the same thoughts, feelings, worries and anxieties as all of us. Yes, he has always had that pillow of money to cushion the blow, but he has also had problems that none of us has ever had to deal with. Such as world fame for over 60 years. He is not a complainer in the slightest, but he still needs to deal with things in his own way. With world fame comes pressure. He was never one of those lucky ones who just happened to become famous – like untalented TV presenters. He was famous because of his raw talent. So, as the fame mounted, so did the pressure. Fame and adulation can crash as quickly as it soars. By the end of The Beatles, he was lost, exhausted and scared. He was on his own. But he had Linda. The book often returns to the themes of freedom and escape. His farms in Scotland and Sussex being regular getaways from the persistent nagging press and endless business meetings (he always hated the business side). He would sometimes even travel to Jamaica or Africa to record an album – again, getting away from everything. This frequent escape was probably what kept him sane throughout the decades.

Thankfully, we don’t have these problems. I could say “most” of us don’t have these problems, but I think I can safely say that EVERYONE reading these articles has never been famous and knows nothing of the feeling. Many of us, however, might suffer from the complete opposite. Total invisibility – no eyes on you (despite that word containing 5 eyes). The feeling that no one knows and no one cares. A vague, occasional shadow, at best. One who has little to offer, or one who has much to offer but no one pays any attention. The feeling of being a permanent third wheel, surplus to requirements. No mark has been made, and no heads have been turned. Unlike Paul’s “Ever Present Past”, one’s present and past might come across as irrelevant. Or so that’s what one might think and feel. We’ve all seen the world’s little people on social media, attempting to act like big people, with the hope of actually becoming big people (I don’t mean fat). What if “fame” is not the answer…? What if everything is actually fine? What if all this is just an illusion based on one’s feelings? Are your friends and family actually ignoring you? Have you actually done anything terribly wrong? Have you actually offended anyone? Would you genuinely consider yourself the outcast of society? I would assume the answer for all of these to be No. What is actually most likely the cause of this feeling is arrogance from the other side. Being ignored is usually the fault of the ignorer rather than the ignoree. THEY’RE the ones who need to change. Contrary to the classic break-up line, you should be saying “It’s not me, it’s you”. You could of course loudly flaunt your presence and boast your talents, but perhaps what you need is a good dose of pepping up? Or maybe an amalgamation of the two…

We’re always being told we need to “stay relevant”. It’s a phrase so casually tossed around, but surely the alternative suggests we are irrelevant… Aren’t we our own relevance? Shouldn’t we decide what is relevant or not? To “stay relevant” these days seems to say “be like everyone else”, which to me is the opposite of “relevance”. Being deliberate and true to oneself, is just about as forthright as one can be. Invisibility (and its 5 eyes) will be a thing of the past, and the right people will find you. Ignore the ignorers. In the words of, well, most people these days, “Yer good”. Which brings me neatly into the land of Fig Fable and its members. And what a triumphant land it is! For me, Fig Fable is Lubena Nova and others, because Lubena is the associated member of the community. She’s the person I chat with, she’s the lyricist and melodist, and she’s the sensational singer. But “and others” is frankly unfair, so we will be covering everyone involved. Please welcome Fig Fable with their brand new single, ‘The Woman Who Doesn’t Exist’! Jazz hands at the ready!!

To say this song is a straightforward pop song, would be a huge lie. ‘The Woman Who Doesn’t Exist’ (TWWDE from now on) is not pop in the slightest. This is unashamedly jazz. Yes, real jazz. But vocal jazz. We still have song here, but don’t expect lingering chords of C, G, D, Am & Em. And you won’t hear any chunky riffs progressing the song either. But you will hear edgy vocals. Just not the kind of vocals you have heard elsewhere. I have reviewed the Nova/Riitala duo once before, over a year ago. If you are old enough to remember that, then Lubena Nova’s particular singing voice might be familiar to you. It is unmistakable. If you AREN’t familiar with anything by Nova/Riitala/FigFable, then this might very well blow your mind. NO ONE sounds like them. This is originality incarnate. Of course, we have the inimitable Lubena Nova on vocals, lyrics and melodies; but then there’s Jari Riitala as composer, arranger and double bass player. The combo is completed with Ville Vihko on piano, and Veikka Kajamies on drums. Finally, the whole piece is mixed and mastered by our very own Andres Guazzelli.

Now… I am aware that many music listeners (yes, even artists) are instantly put off by even the mention of jazz. And I understand(!)… to an extent… I think what I don’t like is that “even a mention” bit. An instant switching off because “Oh yuk: jazz, I hate jazz”. Jazz can be as wide ranging as pop, so I urge you not to be so quick to judge until you’ve listened. Be open. Be willing. You never know, you might actually like it! Shall we get jazzy? Let’s. After a brief (but stupendous) piano introduction from Ville, Veikka sets the tempo with a snappy little drum fill, and we’re in. Jari’s bass is walking fast to the most vivacious of waltzes and Lubena simultaneously sings what I can only understand as the word “wiba”. She repeats this word many times before we get into Verse 1. I was instantly baffled by this word. Was it even a word? It seems to have importance, as not only is this sung multiple times in the intro, it appears many times throughout the song… So I asked someone. My private source has informed me that this is in fact what I had initially been inclined to believe. Scat. ‘Wiba’ is not a real word. I have never been sure if I like scatting, but have recently come to the conclusion that if a person can scat with immediate confidence, then it is good scatting. This is therefore good scat. Lubena gave me a right good scatting.

Up to this point, the song already has tremendous bounce and movement, as each player dances around the full range of their instrument. Verse 1 changes key and the three instruments club together, very often playing in rhythmic unison, somehow simplifying the music, thus drawing one’s attention to Lubena’s vocals as she sings in the oh-so operatic style that only she knows: “I am the woman who doesn’t exist. I have no identity, I’m never missed”. There is a falling chromaticism to each line, ending on a grounded chord that wants to go further. And further is exactly where it goes. In fact, this is one of the joys of TWWDE. It just doesn’t sit still. And yet, there is definite form, thanks to Jari’s excellent, natural writing. The ‘wiba’ motif is actually VERY clever, because in returning to this every once in a while, we have something to latch on to (as novices in the field of jazz). This section is the bounciest, most catchy part, making TWWDE a piece not only for the jazzers but for a wider audience not so used to such herbs and spices. My ignorant palate can easily taste, digest and even enjoy this, and it puts me in the mood for more! Pop suddenly sounds a little “what it says on the tin”.

Two minutes into the five-and-a-half-minute piece, Ville Vihko’s piano solo begins. It is of the absolute highest standard. Just impeccable, with nods to those lively, more spritely players – Dave Brubeck, David Newton (Stacey Kent’s pianist), Jamie Cullum, to name a few. The keys are dry and to the fore, but still blending so well with its siblings. The solo is a full minute long, and it never gets dull, but never gets “too jazzy” for the average ear. Crisp and precise yet full of life’s experience. The full band rejoins as a unit for around 40 seconds, while Lubena perches comfortably on top. Veikka Kajamies then takes centre stage, as the band pauses for a shot of non-alcoholic gin. Veikka delivers a fiery yet considered drum solo from the heavens. You will absolutely feel you are listening live at a jazz club. It is 20-30 seconds of “I wish I could do that”, before setting up again for the band to come together. It’s Wiba time!! The final minute is simply pure style. A notch above.

Of course, this will not be for everyone. I shouldn’t think Fig Fable imagines it’s for everyone either. But I tell you, I’d much rather listen to this than Taylor Swift or Olivia Rodrigo. There is something so pleasing and fulfilling about great musicians coming together and making proper music. The kind of music that I’m not good enough to play. The kind of music that demands a lot more thought and concentration as a listener. It’s worth the extra effort. I am enriched! Oh, and Lubena? I’m pleased you exist.

Compared to these fabulous musicians, I feel like an untalented TV presenter. And I’m not even famous.
Fame or no fame, I will now make my escape. Hello, Goodbye.

Listen to 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙀𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙞𝙩 – 𝙀𝙙 𝙀𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙚

Charles trends the buck…

Sorry, I’m back… Forgive me if this piece seems a little erratic and all over the place. My mind right now is a little erratic and all over the place – stands to reason. Going away and coming back is such a jolt to the system that I feel discombobulated. My thoughts and feelings are, how can I put it… Messi. In being away, I missed out on the relentlessly glorious (and therefore horrible) hot English weather. I missed out on the pubs being open till 5am. I’m not sure much else happened in Britain other than the murder of a politician, wildfires in Scotland and Wales (surely a first) and, of course, yet another switch of Prime Minister (most certainly NOT a first). We do this every few months in Britain, with every successor being just as uninspiring, inept or dangerous as the last. It feels a bit like skipping dud tracks on Spotify; except that Spotify doesn’t govern a country. Once I had arrived home and attempted to settle back into the swing of things (so far a complete failure), Sunday night was the World Cup Final. So, along with most of the world, I… No, I didn’t. I didn’t feel like watching it. Mainly because I didn’t much care by this point. Neither team’s nation particularly means anything to me so I wouldn’t really be rooting for either side. Also, said discombobulation was in full swing, so instead I sat and read. It felt like a nice, traditional Sunday evening.

The following morning, I read about all that had happened throughout the Final, and it got me thinking about the entire tournament as a whole. I had watched a couple of the England games while abroad so I was still able to have caught the feeling. Those adverts, eh? They’re always so different to usual adverts. Crisps (potato chips), beer, online betting, Google A.I., and at least in Poland – for that is where I have been – a slender version of Peperami. I must say, I did find it fascinating to watch Polish adverts. They were as embarrassing, dated and bizarre as the Half Time Show – don’t worry, we’ll get to that in a bit. The majority of these adverts included famous footballers (because their wealth only starts at football). Some of them are current, some of them are from the past, and some of them are seen almost like prophets of our time. David Beckham springs to mind… Having retired from the game 13 years ago, he must be almost penniless by now, having not held a steady job for so long. I do hope he has a decent pension plan; poor lad. Actually, it turns out he is on “benefits”. Or rather, he is certainly benefitting from the 12 brands (at least) for which he made adverts during the World Cup. These “benefits” amounted to around $25 million. Which is even more than the cost of my little holiday! After seeing that staggering figure it’s definitely time for me to have a well earned hydration break…

What a cleverly coined term: “Hydration Break”. What they meant was, Advert Break!! They’ll do just anything to make a bit more money, whilst losing momentum in the game, with just enough time for the players’ muscles to seize up. And all for that golden dollar… Hydration break: because we care (about embiggening the buck). How deliciously and surreptitiously capitalistic. After a few more minutes of that Final’s stalemate, it’s advert time again as we reach Half Time. And so the game resumes… No, wait… It does not. This is AMERICA!! Land of the free!! Land of the excess!! No game of football is complete without a tiny concert in the middle!!! Were you dancing along to the impeccable masterpiece that was the Half Time Show…? Madonna! Shakira! Justin Bieber! BTS! No? Well, neither was I. Partly because I missed it, but also partly because it was apparently absolutely dire and embarrassing. Not to mention ill-judged. What I haven’t seen mentioned, though, was how each act was just so dated and out of touch. Not just the artists’ fault, but the fault of whoever chose the acts (I believe the show was curated by Coldplay’s Chris Martin, so that might explain a thing or two, having become thoroughly Los Angelised). 25 or 30 years ago, Madonna might have been a good choice. 10 years ago Justin Bieber might have been a good choice. 20 years ago, Shakira might have been a good choice. 5 or 6 years ago, BTS might have been a good choice… But in 2026, this is not what we want. And in truth, I am sure very few wanted a show of any kind. Anyway: I missed out on that – in a manner of speaking. For me, the World Cup 2026 was an obese advert for America – the worst side of America. Profit first, football last. It is no secret that football would not be the mega thing it is now if it were not for mega profit. Of course, this has always been the case for pretty much everything ever in the history of the world… But it didn’t used to be on this scale. The game was always the meat around which the event was based. This time, though, I feel like the ball game was the thing to be slotted in amongst the rest of the vulgar circus.

Shall we finally get to the New Artist Spotlight’s very own prophet…? The man who started it all? The man who had a vision based solely on promoting independent music where every single artist pays exactly zero pennies to be a member…? Please welcome this fine young American, Ed Eagle! Despite that introduction, he needs no introduction. While he might be American, he stands for the good side of America. I still believe that there is so much good left in America, even though the world’s press slams it daily. The worst of America is in its government and mega corporations. The best of America lies in its people; the Americans. Hence why there are so many lovely Americans living in Britain these days. Taking an American out of America seems to be like removing the impurities of said American, allowing said American to thrive and enjoy life, giving smiles and good vibes to all they encounter elsewhere. Which is probably why Ed Eagle now resides in Canada. Of course, he will always have the original American values at heart: freedom, equality, peace, a bitchin’ collection of guitars… I have known Ed for 6 years and counting. If the NAS were to be seen as a place of education, I might even say we went to school together! He’d be the football type, all boisterous and leader-like, while I’d be the quieter, more sensitive type. The thing is, we have always had music in common. Just to be clear, we did not actually go to school together, in case you read that line a bit fast. We have not always seen eye-to-eye with everything regarding the NAS, but that is simply because we are very different people, and any organisation needs to be a little business-like in order for it to work smoothly (I can’t stand the business side of anything). The lovely thing is, we are both good souls with genuinely good motives, and we both have a great love and appreciation for music. We also both treat fellow artists like family. It is therefore with great pleasure that I bring you Ed Eagle’s latest single, ‘Prophets for Profit’!

Ed has always been one of the kings of “statement music”. He is not one to mince his words. He is not one for subtlety. He says what he feels. Which, I must say, is something I like about Americans. There are few layers of dry sarcasm and politeness to tear away before reaching the real substance of the matter. It’s just simply THERE. He tends to make big, epic songs. Not necessarily in sound (some of his songs are acoustic with a soft edge), but in the point he is making. I feel like his lyrics are the most important part of the writing process for him. For example, ‘I Miss You’, ‘Damaged Goods’ and ‘Bye!’ are all much softer songs of his, but the story of each of them is epic and resonant. ‘Prophets for Profit’ is very much one of his “statement” songs, as opposed to one of his more personal themes. Of course, he is not talking about footballers or the World Cup, but I do get the feeling he is talking about America and the careless greed of its powerful cog-turners. So FIFA might actually fall into that category… There are some big, powerful moneymen in this world right now, much like there have always been. But I don’t know if they have ever been so big, so rich, so powerful, and so cutthroat. The biggest and most recent offenders seem to be the young tech wizards with their HAL (A.I.) companies. They so proudly and brazenly break laws and parade around as though they are showing off the corpse of a lion they have just shot. They care not a jot about the carnage left in their tracks (I think they’re quite proud of it!), so long as their wallets are fit to burst. In fact, Ed even included a specific verse about HAL, where it takes all our jobs until there’s nothing left. He phrases it MUCH better and more poetically, but I’d rather leave the details to your own ears, first-hand. So, Ed is evidently not a fan of HAL.

However, HAL is not the focus of the song. It mainly hones in on the more obviously serious matters, like people dying because of needless war. And how rich criminals are able to continue with their filthy crimes while innocent poor people are starving. There is no direct mention of the big orange man at the top, but to me it is clear (I could be wrong) that this jaundiced fellow is on the mind of the narrator, even if the name doesn’t quite reach the microphone’s diaphragm. One chunk o’ woyds that does appear 3 times through the song, is “Who makes a profit, when a baby dies? Is he a prophet, or the devil in disguise?”… This line is a baseball bat to the face in terms of impact, and it’s right that it appears 3 times. Especially when it eventually leads to what for me is undeniably the greatest part of the song (also 3 times – 4 if you count the repeat at the end). In fact this bit is one of my favourite bits of any Ed Eagle song. It is expertly dealt with, exquisitely rendered, and frankly perfect in all ways. When coming to this section for the first time, the song is thus far a great, heavy rock song. It has slamming drums, a technically challenging riff, a bassline that echoes the riff in a lower register, and Ed’s spoken voice atop the lot. But as soon as Ed starts to growl like an angry bear with the lyrics “When will we…”, the whole song changes entirely. We are met with about 6 Eds screaming in perfect synchronisation to the words “Rise Up!!” – It is absolutely thrilling!! There is suddenly space, though. This isn’t the moment where the song goes full-on everything to 11. The song doesn’t really do that, which I think is where it shines. Weight doesn’t come from volume and density. It comes from contrast and passion. I feel like Ed has grown up a bit. He still retains his fervent views and values but he is now able to relay them with more dignity and grace. Ed Eagle is cooler now.

My final words on the World Cup:
Where was the dignity? Where was the grace? Actually, there was SOME. The end of that England/Norway game, both teams behaved impeccably. In fact, it was rather fond and heartwarming to see the bromantic hugs from one side to another. England was not gloating, but modestly (and justly) happy. Norway was neither angry nor bitter; they were heartbroken. And the England players made sure to comfort them and make sure they were okay; England themselves being all too familiar with the feeling of getting close but not close enough.

In the words of Ed’s debut single, “It doesn’t matter the team”.

Surely Madonna should have chosen her hit ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’… But then again, after Argentina’s disgusting behaviour once the final whistle had been blown, I shouldn’t think anyone was shedding any tears…

All the more reason to hold on to those islands. Hydration break!!!

Listen to 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙞𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙇𝘾 – 𝙎𝙤𝙫𝙍𝙞𝙣

Charles sees sensei…

The internet has achieved many things over the decades. Some of them even positive! But for me, there is one longstanding feat that is very much still ongoing. In showing me the lives of seemingly the entire world’s population, I watch, I stare, I observe. I am stunned. It is staggering to see the things that people will do. The lengths people will go to in order to show how brave, daring or stupid they can be. It’s just fascinating – but also often rather off-putting. The vanity, the smug dumbness, the relentlessness. Oh, and the TRENDS!! Once one idiot does something, another 50,000 will follow suit. It’s all a bit absurd, and it shows off the worst of society – the dumb and the sheep who aspire to be dumb. It makes me think back to what used to be on TV… Interviews with great minds being intelligent, interesting and witty. Documentaries that uncovered a world we never knew. Dramas that took their time with narration that most these days would barely be able to comprehend, yet alone be able to concentrate for more than 3 minutes. Oh, and game shows – tacky game shows that were I suppose the equivalent of what most of the internet is nowadays…

But the internet also shows us something that we didn’t quite realise before we were online. You see, TV was pretty much everything back then. That was all we had to go on. Stars were leagues above others. The great intellectuals were admired for their extreme rare brilliance. Experts were a coveted species. Artists were barely of this planet in being entirely unique. And famous comedians were the only people who could make us laugh (admittedly largely debatable). Then the internet was born… Of course, we had a decade or two of dross and gimmicks, but eventually we started to see something; started to notice and realise. The world is absolutely chock full of talent! And it is this that constantly astounds me. Just how many people are quietly being brilliant in their neck of the woods. Well, maybe not so quietly now, but they’re not in a television studio, explaining in a bad suit. They are able to remain wherever they wish, while showing the world what they can do. It’s enlightening and genuinely uplifting!

What REALLY fascinates me, though, is when someone so quickly and effortlessly achieves something that not only would I not be able to do, but something that I don’t understand. Something that is just so far from my brain as to be alien. Talent excites me – this is no secret. But it’s not just arty talent; it’s ANY talent. For example, when a craftsman who dabbles in electronics, casually invents and creates something so fresh and unique before our very eyes. It could be something incredibly useful and brilliant (a house with an automatically detachable roof), or it could be something completely and utterly pointless and stupid (a house with an automatically detachable roof). But I watch these “nobodies” in awe. Or what about the recent breed of Chinese musical prodigies…? At just 5 years old, they are already better than some fully-grown stars of 50 years ago! Of course, HAL (A.I.) is spoiling this recent influx of talent by making us believe that what we are seeing is real, when in fact it never took place. But I see no reason for these HAL videos; we have the genuine talent surrounding us already! We just have to find it. And thankfully, finding it has never been so easy. We can’t avoid such great talent these days. In fact, there’s almost too much incredible talent that we need to take a step back and isolate each little morsel we happen upon. Too much of anything is over-saturation. And over-saturation of a good thing can lead to a certain numbness and inability to be excited or even moved. Around a decade ago I coined the phrase “church fatigue”. It was when my lady-person and I were in Rome… “Oh, another breathtakingly beautiful church. Oh look, another Caravaggio. Shall we have lunch now?” – after a while, all this perfect brilliance just ceases to have any impact.

And so, I would like to refresh and restore said impact. I think, in a way, my little reviews attempt to do this by really trying to make you appreciate the layers and depth of the music. The raw talent and effort that goes into making these little gems. Gems that might easily have passed you by. True gems are hard to come by these days (and I can’t afford them), so here’s a sovereign. Well, almost. Please welcome an artist who has not passed through these gates since CC Episode 15, six years ago: SovRin. His real name is rather less impressive: Ralph Aldridge – which doesn’t sound very German… The main reason he has not appeared in recent years is not because his output his dipped or waned in quantity or quality, but simply because I usually try to pick pieces of music that will appeal to most. Not all, but most – without picking generic releases. This does sometimes mean that I am bound to miss out some crackingly unusual pieces from time to time. I thought it best to allow one of those pieces to slide in for a change. The work of SovRin has always been (and I hope will always be) different, and unlike anyone else. He has his own style. A style which dots between dubstep and chiptune. Those not familiar with those terms will probably not enjoy either. Many will classify this music as “gamer music” (the kind of music that appears in retro-style video games). I personally would not specifically classify it as this, simply because I have never been a “gamer”, unless you include the odd round of Scrabble – which I don’t think counts.

I have heard quite a bit of this style of music over the years, and I always immediately want to switch it off. I usually find it intensely irritating and very dull. SovRin, on the other hand, sounds to me like the Bach of the genre. Leagues ahead, on another level and in a different realm. Bach was German, and despite the very British name, SovRin is also in fact German. Germans are known for their precision and their just-so attitude. His work has always been very precise and just so, like Bach’s. But SovRin’s Germanic tendencies can lead him to be a bit of a Germaniac in music. You will hear the maniac in all his music, but what sets him apart from all the other crazy gamer music out there, is his genuinely Bach-like compositions. Admittedly SovRin’s latest release, ‘Karate DLC’, is not quite as classically themed as previous releases of his, but it does still have strong links to that oeuvre. So, this piece is more “Bach with perhaps some influence from Madeon and Pendulum”. Let us look at the tune’s title… ‘Karate”, could – like the cover artwork suggests – simply be a literal reference to karate video games in general. But then again, it could be a reference to Mr. Karate from various Japanese SNK games (look, I didn’t know about any of this either, and – in case you’re wondering – it stands for ‘Shin Nihon Kikaku’); Mr. Karate, being the alter ego of Takuma Sakazaki (obviously). And he looks absolutely ridiculous, like he’s just stepped out of a Studio Ghibli film. As to ‘DLC’, it stands for “downloaded content” – but of course.

This stuff is so far from anything I know, that I feel entirely immersed in another’s culture, and at their mercy. I am helpless without their guidance, and am therefore forced to trust them, with no other choices available. But trust SovRin I DO! Which leads me to my third and (who’s counting??) final point: I am in awe. I like to think I know quite a bit about music and what goes into making it. I would say I know music like a car mechanic knows the underneath of the bonnet – that’s not a pretty hat, but what Americans call the hood, not to be confused with what everyone habitually wears everywhere except their head. But don’t get the bonnet mixed up with the boot, which Americans call the trunk (which is an elephant nose, because an elephant knows). Frankly, I don’t know how car mechanics do it! Having never driven a car, I stick with music. And yet, listening to SovRin’s music makes me feel like I don’t know an A flat from a G apartment. Just HOW on EARTH does he DO IT??! They do call him “the wizard” for a reason. It’s pure magic! And like all the best magic, I don’t wish to know how it’s done. Otherwise it’s just a talented trick. The way young Sov packs in a million and one correct notes in the only way they know how. Sometimes with extreme staccato attack, sometimes with a portamento bend. Sometimes with a gnarly distorted synth that will blow your head off, sometimes with a softer heartfelt piano, but usually with mega fat beatz in order to give you something to understand. And all the while, everything is impeccably mixed. It must surely take him months to make a 3-minute instrumental piece. Man’s got skillz, yeh? Yeh.

SovRin puts in all this effort, and all you have to do is press play.

I’ve got to continue with my damned detachable roof project. Lord knows why I chose a building with a spire… Now I REALLY understand church fatigue.

Listen to 𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙇𝘾 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙇𝘾 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙇𝘾 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙎𝙤𝙫𝙍𝙞𝙣 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙎𝙤𝙫𝙍𝙞𝙣 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 (𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩. 𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 & 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨) – 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙨

Charles enjoys the weather…

What is it about the sunshine that makes us smile? “How would YOU know, CC? You’re in England!” – Okay, let me clear up this myth once and for all. I don’t live in Yorkshire (the North), I live in London (the South). London gets tonnes of great weather. It does not rain all the time. In fact, it is usually not raining. We get far more sun than rain. The sky is usually kind to us in London. So, seeing the sun is quite normal. These days, summer is no longer “cross yer fingers and hope for the odd day of okay weather”. Summer in London is pretty bloody similar to the rest of Europe – thank you, global warming (or coincidence, depending on whose side you’re on)… Right now, Europe is going through the most tremendous heatwave, and England is no exception. Last week was hot, this week is hot, and next week will be hot. And when I say hot, I mean tomorrow will apparently be 37°C (roughly 99°F for those of the traditional system). So, to conclude, it is a myth that London gets dismal, cold, wet weather at all times.

Where was I? Oh yes. I was being English in talking about the weather. Despite being oh-so used to lovely weather for quite a lot of the year, we English are still stuck on auto-mode. We get excited when the sun comes out. We plan to get outside and burn. Actually, we tend not to plan. We instead simply rush out like impatient dogs; flip-flops at the ready (slap-slap, slap-slap – who doesn’t hate that sound?). But I think the biggest change is our frame of mind. It suddenly doesn’t really matter to us that our Prime Minister is stepping down. The increasingly extortionate prices of just about anything seem just irrelevant. An incompetent police force seems unimportant at a time when crime seems unfathomable. World affairs are that of the World, not of our own. Wars continue to ensue, “but it ain’t MY war”… We instantly crave a personal happiness; contentment within one’s own mind. And so, into the rays we go! A queer sensation occurs below the nose… It is an involuntary smile, complete with the unfounded “assurance” that everything is going to be okay. Nay, everything is going to be completely and utterly tickety-boo (a glorious little English term roughly meaning hunky-dory).

Have you noticed – providing they are not too irritable from the unbearable swelter – that people are kinder when the sun’s out? I do NOT include drivers in this statement – their angry resentment seems to be present no matter the season. Outside of the tin can on wheels, though, you yourself are kinder, no? Have you noticed? The scene is blissful, and you want it to stay that way. But it’s no fun being the only happy person. Like The Turtles, we want to be ‘Happy Together’. There is an air of universal optimism brought on by nothing but golden rays. Such a simple trigger, but I am just so grateful for such a trigger. It puts a delightful spin on the term “trigger-happy”. And so, you leave the house. Music playing through your lugholes and a confident swagger in your step. Naked arms and naked ankles. The lightest breeze saving you from overheating. It’s glorious! And yet, you turn the corner, and some poor woman’s shopping bag has split; her purchases rolling into the road… In duller weather, one might choose not to have not noticed and just so happen to cross the road while looking in the opposite direction… “Doo doo-doo… Nothing to see here”… But in this heavenly sunshine, you find yourself stooping down to help the lady, smiling all the while. It just isn’t conscious. You have become the automatic saint. There is nothing to gain from this act of kindness, and yet you do it so instinctively, as though the poor unfortunate is your own mother. The lady is bowled over by your manners, and once again, that Turtles song bellows through the horns of an ice cream van.

But enough of sheltered reptiles. Shelter is the last thing on our minds right now. We want sun and music. We have the sun. Check! So, what music do we pick for such cloudless times? The Beach Boys? Would make sense, but I want something fresh. Something modern, but with a golden hue of familiarity. Perfect; I have just the thing. Are you feeling positive yet? I do hope so. But if you’re still heavily frowning, fear not! The Optimists are here! Or rather, the Optimistics… Please welcome Brendon Nicholas and Terrence & The Optimistics! This is New Zealand at its finest. Those of you who have quietly wondered the whereabouts of Old Zealand, let me quench that mild intrigue of yours. Old Zealand (Zealand) is the western-most coastal part of the Netherlands. It translates simply as sea land (for obvious reasons). New Zealand was discovered by a Dutchman who named it New Zealand. Which frankly is a rather lazy naming scheme, but I can’t help but feel this isn’t exactly too important right now. Anyway: ponderance quenched. What with this “new” land being rather spoilt for sun, both Brendon and Terrence are natural optimists. They also make up the total of said Optimistics.

Usually, the duo likes to have Terrence Bull as the lead songwriter and general all-round music man, so that Brendon Nicholas can be the voice of the song. ALL CHANGE!! This time, Terrence takes a backseat, remaining only for mixing duties (a thoroughly underrated role – ahem). Brendon has all hands on deck for their latest song, ‘Save You’. To put it crassly, this is Brendon’s baby. He wrote the song, sang the song, and played all the instruments. ‘Save You’ is a joyous tune. It lifts the Venetian blinds to the ceiling, allowing the sunlight to drench your view as you sip that mandatory morning coffee in contemplation of the inevitably great day ahead. You feel like Superman when Superman has been Superman for a long time. You’re just used to being brilliant. To give you an idea of the sound we’re talking about here, think Weezer, The Beach Boys, Ben Folds Five, Sean Ono, Joan Jett, Beck, Dodgy and The Shins. But mainly, think Eels. No, not those repellent things that squirm when you squirm. The band. It’s uncanny how much Brendon sounds like Mark Oliver Everitt, Eels’ lead singer. Which to me can only be a good thing. In October of last year, I mentioned the idea of how Michael Jackson would have sounded in the ‘60s… Well, now I again seem to be brought back to the same concept, but this time with a different artist. ‘Save You’ is how I imagine Nirvana to sound, should they have been around in the ‘60s. It’s a funny idea, but I must say, I do like this little game of placing a certain artist in a completely different era, then imagining what they would sound like (I also have images of them in my mind, and it’s quite amusing). This is far more fun than not bothering with the imagination part and just requesting HAL (A.I.) to make this happen before our very eyes. We mustn’t have substantial brain rot before the decade (or year) is out. This will happen naturally – just give it time.

’Save You’ is a song about helping people. It’s incredibly upbeat without being soppy in the slightest; mainly due to its fist-thrust-high manner with a rocking riff to match. But it is not without hippie sentiment, man. After an instrumental chorus for starters, these verses chime high with that clean Rickenbacker-like jangle; vocal melodies to the fore. Harmonies bloom as though it’s Mother’s Day. And then our bright sun rises for the chorus! The intro riff comes into fruition with spectacular tight vocals: “Do you, need me, to save, to save you?” – it’s earnest, honest and willing. Proof that once we are okay within ourselves, we will naturally come to the aid of others. How’s THAT for optimism?? After two rounds of a chorus fit for a pub singalong, we’re pretty much at the halfway mark. Too early for a bridge, surely… Nope. It certainly feels like the right point for a change. This bridge does just what a bridge should do: it’s an alternate flavour of the same ilk. We haven’t journeyed to a foreign land, but merely moved to the garden for a change of scenery. And like all pro bridges, it segues perfectly back into the next chorus. The thing is, normally in “song-form” this would be the final chorus… There’s a reason that bridge came earlier than usual… We have enough time now for a brief but excellent guitar solo! NOW we get our final chorus. The thing is, this song wouldn’t really hold together without Terrence’s part. The mix is solid, unified and enjoyable. You probably won’t be aware of the mix… While sounding like an affront, this is in fact high praise for any mixing engineer. The mix should be invisible. And doesn’t the duo work well as a twosome? I should say so; they grew up together, having known each other for 45 years!!

‘Save You’ is just so fun! Full of exuberance and vim! The perfect song for my wander in the English sunshine.

There’s a fresh, new zeal to it all. The old zeal is Dutch.

Listen to 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

Follow 𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 & 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙏𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 & 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙊𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙥 – 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚

Charles is knitting with wool…

“If the shoe fits, wear it” – so the saying goes. If the shoe doesn’t fit, wear something else. Makes sense. But most tend to opt for an uncomfortable in-between… If the shoe doesn’t fit, wear it anyway. These are my thoughts of the day. Confused? I know EYE am. In fact, I’ve always been a little confused. Mainly because things tend to make sense to me in a different way. Or they don’t make sense to me in the slightest. Still confused? Yeah, I can see your furrowed brow from here. I am talking about the way EYE am versus the way most others are. And this applies to you too. Do you find that you look at the world a little differently to others? Of course you do. You’re an artist. We tend to be a little different in many ways. But it ain’t just art and artists; it all stems back to school…

Were you the one with long hair when everyone else had short hair? Or vice versa? Were you the one who’d rather stay at home and play guitar than go out and play sports? Were you always listening to different music to your peers’? Ringing a bell yet…? How about at home? Family usually has that family connection, no? Where each member tends to have similar views, thoughts, feelings…? But not you. You always had your own way of seeing the world. And because of all this, you were treated differently at home, in school and in later life? The odd one out? The weirdo? The wretched outcast? The black sheep…?

“Fitting in” is something we naturally do (or attempt to do) as a teenager. You weren’t the only one. Everyone you knew was trying desperately to “go with the crowd”. Of course, there were the leaders and the followers. The leaders were often just as inauthentic as the followers; those leaders were usually just attention-seekers. Those followers were just trying to be part of something. The thing is, there are many of us who tried fitting in, failed to fit in, and instead just did our own thing. That’s where most of us come in. My question is, whether it is weird to be different? Surely it’s NATURAL to be different, no? We’re not clones… Just because most of your friends left school and got office jobs, doesn’t mean that YOU should have to do that. Rather than “them” being the “normal” ones and “us” being the “weirdos”, I like to think of it differently. How’s about this (to make you feel a bit better about yourself)… YOU were honest with yourself. YOU’RE one of the few who DIDN’T bow to peer pressure and “the system”. Those who chose to continue wearing the ill-fitting shoe, will potentially regret their decision as they hobble through life. But you? You’re a lone wolf in sheep’s clothing! EMBRACE the black sheep in you! Welsh need not apply.

THIS black sheep seems to have wandered aimlessly into a field of music. Mehh (says the sheep). Okay, it seems this sheep is not impressed. But one artist seems to stand out… A chap who although born Dutch, is based in Manchester, England. Please welcome your new favourite black sheep, Julience. And yes, his latest release is called ‘Black Sheep’, but I think you’d gathered that by now. This man has appeared 3 times in my “maybe list”, but has never quite managed to arrive on this page of mine. So, as I stick a gold star on Julience’s lapel, I smile.

I’m going to morph into Billy Shears and reveal what’s underneath this ‘Black Sheep’. My previous two reviews have covered unusual songs with complicated structures. THIS, is the complete polar opposite. It is proof that great songs don’t always have to be complex. In fact, most of the songs you find yourself humming day-in, day-out, will probably be pretty simple songs. ‘Black Sheep’ shows off such a forté. If you’re gonna use just two chords, THIS is the way to do it. It is time to rock in a classic way. That’s right, we’re stepping back to somewhere between 1970 and 1976. We start immediately with a riff that conjures the spirit of Messrs. Jagger and Richards. Specifically ‘Start Me Up’. That’s in the left ear. But just one round in, we’re introduced to the rest of the band with a second guitar on the right – one that sounds as though Mark Knopfler has borrowed Richards’ other guitar. Bass right down the middle, and drums that sound straight outta ‘All Right Now’ by Free. Yes, complete with unmistakable COWBELL!!! But PLEASE don’t make the mandatory (they’re not mandatory) cowbell jokes in the comments. The cowbell is feeling a little put upon. But now we come to the voice. Imagine the attitude of Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott and Bruce Springsteen with the vocal tone of… ah damn, I can’t quite get it. Can you? Maybe in the comments? Is it Roger Daltrey with a large sprinkling of Peter Gabriel? You tell me. My final comparison is probably not one that anyone else would come up with… Daft Punk, anyone? No, I’m not joking. There’s a song called ‘Fragments of Time’ by Daft Punk & Todd Edwards that for some reason feels somewhat similar to me. The sound is entirely different. So is the genre. So is the entire song. And yet there is something there. Almost certainly complete coincidence, but I like to make these little comparisons – it’s just the way my brain works. I hear you already: “Coincidence?? You’re completely insane! They’re nothing LIKE each other, you twat!”

But… Two chords… How does this work? How can just two chords make a song great? I’ll tell ya. When we sing songs, we don’t sing chords. We CAN’T sing chords. Instead, we sing melodies. Melodies with words. Which is two thirds of what makes up “the song”. Other than the chords, the rest is performance and production. Rock is in Julience’s veins. Which isn’t about virtuosic ability, but a feel. Jagger did not have an incredible voice, he made a thrilling sound. Richards was never one of the greatest guitarists of all time; he made a thrilling sound. It’s more about attitude and rock ethic than anything else. You have to feel it to believe it. I felt it in Julience’s recordings, so I definitely believe it. The playing and the singing is everything, here. The performance. When it comes to rock, the performance is everything. Anyone can play Beatles songs, and “the song” always shines (admittedly never as brightly as the original). But with rock, when a mediocre rock combo starts to play a Stones tune, the actual song usually falls flat on its face. Because it’s simply not the Stones. The performance is why I adore Queens of the Stone Age. No one could take the place of Josh Homme, just like no one could take the place of Julience. His passionate singing voice, his edgy guitar tone, his masterful basslines, his sneaky OWgan parts, his fabulous drum fills, and yes, his cowbell; these are all of the things that make up ‘Black Sheep’. The fact that it’s just two chords becomes largely irrelevant. It’s a rocking little record (how many of you sang the next line?)… And speaking of lines, those lyrics are so integral to this being such a corker of a song – most of us relate. We’re all alone, together. Not as the song suggests, but as colossal woolly mammoths!

I did it!! I actually wrote a short(er) article!!!

If ever you’re feeling like you don’t belong, remember: Black Sheep Matter.

Listen to 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙥 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙥 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Watch 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙥 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙍𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 – 𝙍𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙊𝙬𝙚𝙣

Charles is speaking artfully…

Over the course of the last few years, we have witnessed the progressive speed of A.I. and generative A.I. (what I habitually like to call “HAL” for simplicity’s sake). This has been faster than any other cultural change. Not just in how quickly we have altered our way of doing things, but how fast the technology has improved. It was seemingly weekly leaps. Which is frankly too fast for average humans to keep up with, or even be comfortable with. On the whole, we humans cannot comprehend this kind of progression at such a rapid pace. We need time to mull it over and work it all out. Most of us do not think in terms of ones and zeros, but instead in terms of light and dark and question marks; the good, the bad, the “I don’t quite understand”. And the “I don’t quite understand” is not just the technical aspect, but more often elongated to “I don’t quite understand WHY”.

Artfully speaking, the last time we had THIS kind of speed in progression was in the early 1960s. At the dawn of said decade it was decreed that guitar groups were on their way out, with no mention of any replacement. At this point, a “guitar group” was thought of like The Shadows: an instrumental band, or a backing band for a singer. No one foresaw the idea of the singer/s being part of the band itself. Songwriters were odd-job men or classically trained surnames atop cheaply printed sheet music. Writers were writers, players were players, and singers were good-looking actors playing a part as the lead role. And then a group called The Beatles came on the scene. They wrote, they played, they sang. But they were repeatedly told “guitar groups are on their way out”. What the system had not been able to comprehend was that this unknown group was the start of something new. The “guitar group” as we now know it, was only just getting started. From 1963 to 1969 there were vast leaps just every few months. It was a true revolution in art, designed for the young, but quietly pricking the ears (and eyes) of the middle-aged (then thought to be anyone from the age of 28 to 50 – basically any possessor of a cardigan and a pipe).

What we were witnessing, was young, brilliant, eager minds at work. As far as teenage fans were concerned, songs just happened. Back then (unlike in more recent years), people weren’t familiar with or even aware of what went into making such records, for this was all behind closed doors. Studio doors. Interviews with band members – or as the stuffy old BBC would likely have called them: “banned” members – very rarely had questions about the music itself and the whole process of making it. Instead, it was more “So how are you enjoying your tour of America?”, or “Do you intend to grow your hair indefinitely?”. And yet, behind the scenes, the most magical movement was bubbling and blowing up. The writing was fresh and wild. The guitars were making sounds that compelled lab-coated engineers to frown and sweat. The singers were convincing microphones to contemplate suicide. Until the last few years, it seemed impossible to ever witness such a leap so great as the decade from 1959 to 1969. Yet here we are. The biggest artful leap in history has been during the last few years. I say “artful” not in the correct sense of the word (clever and crafty), but more in a literal sense. And yet, these past few years have shown very little to do with actual art. Those years of ’63 to ’69 were vitally human. Which is exactly what the current climate is not.

We keep being told by various tech CEOs that HAL removes the “laborious process” of making music, leaving us with a fully formed piece of music to listen to. There’s only one problem with this. Well, actually there are myriad problems, but let’s just deal with the one. That “laborious process” – spoken of like sticky detritus – IS the art. It is the everything that makes the final result have any point, purpose or worth. And so, inevitably there has been kickback. While I did expect this technical progression to be lightning speed, what I didn’t foresee was the speed and ferocity of said kickback. For some, it’s an angry, deep-seated rebellion. A revolt against such sickenings that feel akin to betrayal. But for many, it’s simply that they never changed. They ignored the masses and the hype, and just got on in their usual way; the only way they ever knew. HAL is ignored largely by older people; cast aside as a fad; a gimmick. Much in the same way many of these older artists observe social media; a cheap waste of time that has absolutely nothing to do with them. These artists are not trying to be trendy. Fashion has always been a young man’s game (and so it should be). Being older has its own known drawbacks, but it does lend the benefit of authenticity. Interestingly, it hasn’t always been this way. Back in the 60s, those young members of The Beatles and The Who were not following trends; they were inventing them. The older ones tended to do what they saw as being expected of them, rather than what felt right. And so, with this “have pen; will write” attitude, I feel quite content in being decidedly middle-aged. Yes, I can finally admit to myself that I am most definitely middle-aged. Sigh. Unless I live to the age of 104, in which case I still have another decade to hit the dreaded “M.A.” – “Stop it, CC; you are what you are”. Quite right.

And here’s another artist who is what he is. Please welcome Robert Owen to the stage! Apologies for the slightly longer-than-usual pre-amble, but I thought in this case it was quite important to truly set the scene. Now, despite the name, Robert Owen is not British or even American. He is from Berlin. I have been quietly keeping my eye on him for a while. His music always intrigued me, but until now I always felt there was something somewhat incomplete about his releases. A disconnected sound, potentially intentional, but not quite to my taste. There was, however, always something about his sound that teased me. I think I was waiting for “the one”. His latest single, ‘Rubber Mask of Holy Wrath’ is, I believe, that one. And I further believe this song to be as far away from HAL as it is possible to be. HAL is good at copying the sound of real instruments. It is also good at copying mainstream sound. But it is not good at capturing the human mind. Probably because it does not know what’s coming. We are but weird souls. And when HAL does “weird”, it just misses the mark. I think the reason for this, is that it has never held a light bulb. While it might not be easy to work out if a song is HAL, it is definitely (at least so far) easy to tell if it is NOT made by HAL. And ‘Rubber Mask of Holy Wrath’ is NOT made by HAL. While I have no doubt that HAL has its uses, generative HAL has no purpose in art that I can see, aside from fakery and dupery. When creating a piece of music and you wish for something to be a certain way, what better way than to do it manually? A true artist CANNOT rely on HAL to “save time” by doing it for the artist, unless we actually get to a point where HAL can read the artist’s mind… But even then, where would be the fun in that?

Speaking of an artist’s mind, let’s look at the mind of Robert Owen. His influences are both clear and unclear. Clear, because I can hear the essence of certain artists; but unclear, because the sound is simultaneously so disparate from those influences. A drop of vanilla essence makes a difference to the overall flavour, but does not make the dish taste of vanilla. I believe this is how influence should be, rather than simply being something from which to copy. HAL, take note. Actually, no. HAL, please do NOT take note; stay as you are. However, just to give you an idea of the sound, try and picture (in no particular order) The Beatles, 10cc, Joe Jackson, Peter Gabriel, Kaminski, Jeff Lynne, Sparks, Blur, Tears for Fears, McCartney, Alan Parsons, Madness, David Gilmour, Eno, and the minds of Bowie, Cave and Waits (but not necessarily the music). Then mix in some coldly organic electronica and the occasional strangely satisfying dissonance, and you might get halfway there. Much like last week’s CC pick, there is constant change in Robert’s way of writing and producing. But unlike last week’s pick, this man is not even attempting to appeal to a mass audience. This goes beyond pop. For me, this is “weird” done right. There is a forever sarcastic smile. Like Stravinsky and Picasso, one has to know the rules in order to break them. Going headfirst into “weird” will usually end badly. Which probably explains why we tend to get the slightly older artists making the unusual material. The foundations and experience must be there in the first place in order to go further. That’s how The Beatles were able to migrate from ‘She Loves You’ (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah), to ‘I Am The Walrus’ (Goo-Goo G’Joob).

A warning: ‘Rubber Mask of Holy Wrath’ is not for those who suffer from the curse of the short attention span. Remember, Robert Owen is not trying to appeal to the Swifties. I suspect that he is not really trying to “appeal” to ANYone. He is making the art that he needs to make. Should anyone wish to join him on his journey, they’re more than welcome – I’ll be on that train. The song is 8 and a half carriages long. Sorry, minutes. But peculiarly, it doesn’t drag at any moment. And what I find a REAL joy is the lack of pretension that can so often be synonymous with this style of music (should this style be categorisable as a “style”). I hesitate to call this a song, because it fits no usual verse-chorus-verse form; but as unusual as it stands, it still somehow remains a song. Length is a hindrance in this streaming world, because royalties are paid by the stream. Hence the main reason why we have shorter songs these days. If royalties were paid by the minute, I suspect that the world would have gone all Pink Floyd a long while ago; pretension intact. ‘Rubber Mask of Holy Wrath’ is simply the length it wishes to be, while concentrating more on girth. This thing is full fat with a restrained belt of respect.

What can I say about the music itself? The piano is heavy-handed after a false start. But this lumpen way of playing seems to impress upon us the confidence of its player, rather than show off the ivory amateur. It is very much intentional, this proud way of playing. Actually, while I’m here, nothing in this song is wispy. Everything is defined and calculated in that comically cliché German way, yet nothing is ever robotic; it’s simply efficient. Nothing is wasted, and everything is there for a reason. This is how a pro producer works. Like last week’s pick, the bass and drums are what keeps everything together within the superb mix. But I suppose what really brings me so close to this piece is the voice. Robert (who does everything except the backing vocals) has a voice that might seem like a friend to you. At least it does to me. And do bear in mind that I have never spoken with this chap in my life. I know almost nothing about him. For all I know, he might not exist and this is all HAL. In which case I might go the way of the above spittle-drenched microphones. But we have to take some things at face value, or we will all go insane. I would love to hear that Robert Owen is in fact the brother of Kaminski, but I highly doubt this will be the case. Let’s briefly get back to the music. Robert knows how to control everything he has at his disposal, whether it’s the use of a physical instrument, or the means to express the melody or sound in his mind through some sort of synthesiser. Nothing is over or underdone. As for those beautifully fresh, wide backing vocals, they are courtesy of Maria Maier, Stefanie Sagert and Heike Bollig. It feels to me like this song took quite a while to put together. More of a condensed opus than a song. But believe me, Robert, every effort’s second was worth it. It’s the kind of astounding piece that would warrant a “Making Of” video.

And then there’s the words!! Golly, they’re just absolutely- ah damn, we’re all outta time. You’ll just have to listen for yourself.

I wonder if 104 seems likely… Wearing my cardigan, I glance at my pipe: “Nah, probably not”.

Listen to 𝙍𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙍𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Watch 𝙍𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙮 𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙍𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙊𝙬𝙚𝙣 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙍𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙊𝙬𝙚𝙣 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡’𝙨 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙 – 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙

Charles spies with his little pies…

Have you ever wondered if someone you know is perhaps not quite who they seem? Someone you have known a long time? Someone you feel you know well, yet at the same time you realise you know very little about them? Someone who perhaps has to disappear for brief bursts? They say it’s business, yet you’re never actually quite sure what it is they do, other than “business”. Does this ring a bell? It’s somewhat familiar to me. I know a chap who goes away regularly. Seemingly every few weeks. Actually, not seemingly; this happens. He’s always extremely busy, yet able to fit in anything that life hurls at him. If you want something done, ask a busy person – so the saying goes. Sure, he could simply be doing his job in “business”. Sure, he might simply not be interested in talking about said “business”… But I can’t help but wonder…

Wonder about the ins and outs of his business? No, no, no. That’s deadly dull, and I’m not remotely interested. I can’t help but wonder if this “business” is a usual sort of business. You see, I have a somewhat overactive imagination (it makes life more interesting). I’m also natural inquisitive, and (unfortunately) naturally suspicious. Okay, let’s just say what I mean. I think my friend might a spy. This is based entirely on precisely zero. There is pretty much no reason why I should be thinking this. Perhaps it’s just me trying to make life a little less dull; who knows. Perhaps it’s because I quite like the idea of knowing James Bond. But then again, there is always the chance I am right. Yes, it’s doubtful, but it could very well be true. I will probably never know. Should he actually be a spy, I should hope he’s on the right side. It would crush me to discover that not only had he been a spy for all these years without mentioning a word of it (he’d be a rubbish spy if he had), but that he had been working for the “other side”. Only just very recently have I learnt that the chap is moving. He and his family are going to live in a faraway land. A place with an entirely different culture and way of life. And it was THIS that confirmed my suspicions (without actually confirming a damned thing). He told me in person, over a pie. Suspicious, no? A pie is smart, neat and nonchalant on the outside, yet filled with secrets. Had my friend been a pie all these years?

So, this pie of mine. I went into my novelistic mind as I imagined him crossing that border; something he does frequently. The difference being, this pie had always returned. Not this time. I gather it is to be for roughly two years – I assume the length of the “Top Secret operation”. Once he arrives there, he will be a new man. A man with no past. A man with no acquaintances. He will be welcomed as a “man of business”, not a “pie of business”, for to them he has no secrets. There, he will seem much as he had seemed here. Just a businessman going about his duties. And yet, still, I can’t help but wonder. Is he sharing secrets? Is he secretly filming at all times through his electronic glasses? Is he taking coded notes? Is he seen to enter a café at 1pm, only to leave at 6pm through the back door? But then I wonder about something else. He is my friend, you see… I wonder if he is safe? I also wonder if he is armed…! But then I start to wonder further… IS he my friend? Does his family actually exist? Is everything simply an illusion formed from a manner and what I have been told? Or am I just unhealthily suspicious, bordering on paranoid? I suspect I am simply using my powers of observation and imagination, blending the two to best feed my creative compulsion. My pie is probably not a pie, and instead as blatant as a roast beef dinner. What you see is what you get.

On the subject of pies- sorry: spies; allow me to welcome you to something refreshing in all ways. The song is ‘Devil’s Right Hand’. The artist is a duo called Crash World. They have never appeared here before, despite having released some excellent songs over the years. These two Vancouverites (or Vancouverians, as I like to say – pronounced Van-koo-VAIR-ee-ans) both have Scottish roots. Although a duo, these two make sure to hire other musicians as well for the recordings, so it does still sound like a full band, rather than an acoustic duo. I have always gone for their music; mainly because they take it seriously. Some artists make music that sounds like a casual afterthought. Something that occurs briefly while they’re stirring their tea. But to make something really worth listening to, one has to put in the time and effort. The days of the repeated-four-chord-sequence must surely die soon. The lyrics that slumber without so much as a turn from night to morn. The predictability that bears the question: “What for?”… I like artists who show their worth. Artists who challenge themselves. Artists who bother. Artists who genuinely know how to make great music, through their own years of experience. And this is just where Crash World comes in. These two Scottish Canadians have a certain confidence in their sound and manner that doesn’t come close to arrogance. It’s more like “What, you mean YOU can’t do this? I thought we ALL could”. When something is so natural to you, it seems impossible that anyone else might struggle with it.

These two eccentric lads are Glen MacLeod and Graham MacDonald. Glen is the writer, guitarist and also does backing vocals. He’s the one with the style. Graham is the voice of the band. He’s the one with the weighty backbone. I suppose in a way, Glen is the Paul, and Graham is the Lennon. To be fair, both Glen and Graham are not only eccentric, but both very stylish. They both look inherently cool. Whether it be Glen’s facial hair (imagine if Salvador Dalí had opted for a beard), bowler hat, black suit, black shirt and white tie, or Graham’s heavyset, imposing stature, snazzy Las Vegas jackets and sporting what seems like a colourful yet flattened hedgehog atop his otherwise shaven noggin, the name of the game is style. And a style of their own. But putting all this aside, it’s the music that brings them together (or at least keeps them together). And it’s the music that lured me in. Despite the subject matter being frankly fascinating, I must admit it was the music that initially tugged at my elbow, yelling “Pick Me! PICK ME!”. And so I did it pick it. Of course, the pro sound made the experience pleasing and more enticing than some other releases, but it was the songwriting that kept me listening. As to the lyrical theme of the song, it’s about the idea of a spy in a foreign land, from the spy’s perspective. And yes, this spy is seemingly working for the other side. I don’t know if I have ever heard a song about that!! Just SO refreshing.

But what else is refreshing…? The music. How it’s written the way songs USED to be written. Sections within sections, lines leading to other lines, one chord setting up a new chord, unexpected constant change, but never feeling awkward or jazzy. Most songs these days feel like a triangle: walk for one mile, turn left, walk for one mile, turn left, walk for one mile – congratulations, it’s over. Where’s the JOURNEY?! It should feel like a train trip through the Scottish Highlands, not a flight from London to New York. Here’s a load of timestamps for ya: 0:00, 0:05, 0:10, 0:15, 0:26, 0:33… Just over 30 seconds in, and we have already had all these surprises. Fast forward to 1:00 and we get 1:10, 1:21, 1:26 – it’s just constant change. This is what songwriting was always supposed to be. Not just four chords ad infinitum. Music is supposed to evolve, not repeat. Sure, we need the hooks to repeat through the course of the song, but it shouldn’t be possible to condense a whole song into 20 seconds without missing loads out. So, yeah, that’s the writing side of things – it’s exquisite, and it frankly kinda gives me hope for the future of music. As to the singing and the playing… Phwoah! Graham has just one job here: singing. Boy, he belts like caramel. At first I was thinking he sounded like a Texan Bryan Ferry, but then I realised he’s actually more like Elvis – as he might have been had he lived through the 80s, and eaten fewer peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches (I still shudder every time I hear that concoction). As to the instruments, they’re sublimely played. Glen has already been busy with the writing, but his layers of guitars are session-man-good, with a couple of cracking little solos in the second half. But what really grabs me in the instrumentation is the bass and drums. The drums will be more obvious to you, but do try to pay attention to the bass. Much of the time it is neatly bold in the low end, but other times it has the most fabulously nosy manner! It’s like an eager garden mammal when faced with the prospect of just so many nuts ripe for the picking. Yup, that’s how I’ll end this piece.

That garden mammal is full, and so am I. Look, I started with a pie, and finished with two Big Macs.

Listen to 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡’𝙨 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙 on the Connolly’s Corner Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡’𝙨 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙 on the Connolly’s Corner Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡’𝙨 𝙍𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘿𝙤𝙬𝙣 – 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 𝘾𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧

Charles goes from hero to zero…

To say “We are all heroes” would be a very positive, modern way of making us all feel good about ourselves. It would also be a conscious lie. While many of us might be doing very well in life, we can’t all be heroes, or the word loses meaning and status. We must however all HAVE heroes. It is important to have someone to admire. This is mainly for two reasons. One, because we all need aspiration; we need to strive. And two, with no one above you, your ego will spiral out of control. So, those heroes really need to be solid. They need to be impossibly perfect. Choose wisely! We want a flawless glaze, not chipped china.

How, then, do we find such a “hero”? We’re all a bit rubbish… We ARE human, after all. We are fallible in so many ways. We do the wrong thing from time to time. But does this make us inherently bad people? Well, that all depends on intention and awareness. Being unreliable due to having ADHD does not make you a bad person. But being unreliable because you don’t care, perhaps makes you a selfish person (not necessarily “bad”, but it’s edging that way). So, when choosing a hero (we rarely consciously “choose”; it just happens), we need to find the person or people with the least flaws. But even then, it can be difficult. Say you’re a businessman and you look up to Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk, it ain’t because they’re kind, lovely people, but because they are absolutely superb at business (whatever their methods). And let’s face it, aside from “my mum” (oh come on) or “my dad” (you’re just saying that), most people’s heroes are celebrities. Sorry, what’s that? Apparently the phone lines have lit up due to complaints about the previous parental comment. Okay, you’re quite right. I very much look up to both of mine. I just feel like a hero should be disconnected and untouchable. A bit like a god. So when one of those parentals asks me why all their emails have disappeared, it’s not quite the god I had in mind. I do however wholeheartedly apologise for any distress my previous comment might have caused (I believe that’s the standard plastic response we’re meant to use these days).

With most of us being artists, our heroes will probably be famous artists. It stands to reason. However, in art there is always this difficult balance of art versus artist. While the art may remain pure, it can be tainted within our minds because of the artist’s personality or even wrongdoing. Yes, I have touched on this before, but in this increasingly scandal-driven society, it seems more and more pertinent. When connecting with an artist’s art, we tend to connect with the artist. I completely understand that it is hard to love the creation if you despise the creator. But why? Why do we automatically associate one with the other? We all know Picasso’s work, but because he lived a little while ago, you probably don’t know much (if anything) about the artist, so the personality becomes irrelevant and we concentrate solely on the art itself. Which is brilliant. These days, though, I wonder if he would survive the inevitable chastisement for his hot and cold adulterous behaviour. In this present climate, being a celebrity is a VERY dangerous game, it seems. Can you imagine being surrounded by suspicious eyes hunting for flaws? Can you imagine the hateful judgement around every corner? Some celebrities are almost ousted from society for not smiling when greeted by a fan. Other celebrities are hated for wanting to change the colour of their roof. But then there are the genuinely bad celebrities. The ones who have committed horrific crimes. This is where things really do get serious. How can you continue to love and admire someone who is a convicted rapist? This heinous felony is no error of judgement. No mistake. No “whoops, I made a boo-boo”. And yet, their art remains innocent. THIS is the problem. We feel let down. And it’s a CRYING SHAME!!!

One such rapist is an artist called Br-… PHONE LINES!!!! Whoops, I made a boo-boo. I wholeheartedly apologise for such a joke in incredibly poor taste. Or whatever. Oh, the joys of NOT being a celebrity. Bryan Cooper is a good friend and a fabulous musician. He is also fully equipped with a wonderful, dry, English sense of humour; something he took with him when migrating from chipped china to judicious Japan. We’ll get to my pick of the week (‘Heroes Let You Down’) in a bit. First, though, let’s step back and have a look at the bigger picture. You see, this is not just an isolated song release. And neither is it even a new song. It is a remastered version of a single from 2022, as part of a compilation. This album is the release. Once I had spotted its existence on Thursday, I assumed it was the complete collected works of Bryan Cooper thus far. After further delving, I realised it was only 11 of his previous 20 released songs – so by no means the complete collected works, but the SELected works of Bryan Cooper. I kind of wish it had been called ‘Natural Selection’, but then again he’d have the crows chewing on his shoulder. Going by his choices, I would say it is less a “best of”, and more just simply “musings on a theme” – musically they are of the same ilk. So, although a compilation, it still “reads” like an album. Which I like. Mini review of the album (‘Transmission Coda: Selected Works 2022-2026’)…? “Bloody brilliant from beginning to end. Just supoyb. Go (and) listen!”. Now let’s get to the song at hand.

‘Heroes Let You Down’; the title is not a question, but a statement. Which did interest me. It suggests the inevitable, rather than the potential. There are various ways of looking at the song’s meaning. There is, of course, the way I stated above. But then there is the rather more manipulative way, which seems to be more how Bryan means. How the stars are portrayed, versus how they actually are. This is not a new concept by any means; look at 1950s Hollywood: the impossible dream… In Bryan’s own lyric, he seizes that vital word: “Propaganda”. But this conspiracy theory isn’t just related to artists. This could be about a politician, a business entrepreneur or a member of the Royal Family… But then again, let’s just suppose it IS about an artist. We’ve all been there. The artist you have adored since age 11. You had all their records, you had the posters, you went to see them live several times. You even posed in the mirror doing impressions of them! I see those red cheeks of yours. Then years later, you find that the whole industry has known bad things about them for such a long time, but for the sake of money and scandal they’d chosen to keep those secrets locked up, until even the big boys could no longer contain the horrible truth. My question has always been this. Should we dump the art with the artist? That art is still the same art it was when you loved the artist. It makes me think of when a murderer’s home is demolished because it belonged to that murderer. Surely the house wasn’t in on it… Are people that superstitious? Or is it just an association that is impossible to shake…? Probably. Which is so sad. Innocent art made by guilty creatures.

Thankfully, here we get both sainted art and saintly artist. The best of both worlds. One of the disadvantages of Bryan being such a great songwriter, is that it can detract from his brilliance as a guitarist. One is so absorbed in the music, that it’s often easy to gloss over the playing itself. And that’s how this song begins. A guitar melody that sounds as though this axe is just another limb. It’s as though his fingers are singing. His technique was never learnt but simply there. Much like we never learnt how to feel. This is all amplified by relentless yet subtle bending of the pitch, as well as the layers of manipulated guitar underneath. Simply put, this man knows his tools. But the song is underway with bass and drums soon enough. It is all setup for the confident, heavenly vocals, 28 seconds in. Even these have been layered for texture. Such a personal voice, but it knows you’re listening. It’s not personal like a soft, private conversation you were privy to through crossed wires. It’s more like a captivating performance by the only trustworthy candidate. After several verse/chorus type things (it’s never quite as simple as the norm with Bryan), we hit the masterful guitar section at 1:05, which continues for about 30 seconds. It’s like a demonstration on how to flick. The most unique way of playing. The only guitarist who plays even close to this style, is Graham Coxon. But what I find captivating is just how many notes Bryan is able to fit in, while never coming close to sounding annoying, show-offy, or jazzy. It always just works, and it sounds as natural as playing a slow major scale. I feel like the guitar is his closest friend. Every flick is like a ruffling a dog’s submental region. No, that’s not what you think it is. Oh look, just listen. And while you’re at it, set aside the 32 minutes it will take to listen to the whole LP.

If you’re currently looking for a new hero, I might strongly suggest Bryan Cooper. There’s enough disconnection, he’s kind and honest, he’s never made a bad record, and he knows how to use his email. He won’t EVER let you down.

Righto, I now have to recover my god’s emails, despite having an itchy submental region. PHONE LINES!!!

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