In Conversation with: Folk Starlet Billie Marten

Billie Marten started quietly recording songs on YouTube at the age of eight. With no intention to promote herself, she just wanted to make sure her Grandparents, based in France, could hear her voice once in a while. It's funny how these things work out. 

At twelve, her cover of Lucy Rose's Middle of the Bed attracted thousands of views, catapulting her to the fame she never asked for. Now seventeen, she's released two acclaimed EPs, fronted the BBC Introducing stage at Reading, and been nominated for a prestigious BBC Sound of 2016 award. 

Writing about how the little things can be big things, she pens lyrics about how quickly you can lose yourself in a crowd and the torture of getting badly sunburnt. When we meet, she's just finished her prime spot at Citadel's Communion Stage, where she celebrated the tenth anniversary of the label alongside Matt Corby and Lianne La Havas.

It's boiling, and she's giddy from potential heatstroke and the hugeness of it all. "It's new for me", she laughs, "this support from complete strangers. It's so wonderful, but also feels very silly. I can't quite believe it." With her gorgeous debut album Writing of Blues and Yellows hitting shelves on September 23rd, we suspect she'll need to get used to it. 

How are you balancing world domination with your A-levels?

I'll let you know when I get my results in August! The school have been really great, and they've let me do three A-levels instead of four. I'll usually have Monday mornings off, which is ideal as I'm normally coming back from a gig or something. I guess you just have to sit down and do it. Everyone has things juggle in life.

Do you come from a musical family?

Music is probably the thing that binds us all together. My parents and older Brother play instruments, and my Uncle is in a band. We used to play together quite a lot, and from an early age I couldn't wait to join in. 

Do you remember the first CD that you bought?

God, no. It was probably in a car boot or something. 

Do you still get nervous on stage?

Yes. Have you seen my knees?

Do you have any rituals that help get you in the headspace to perform?

I like to read beforehand. It's important to do something normal amidst the chaos.  

How about with writing? Have you always written your own material?

Since I was ten or eleven, yes. I love English Lit, so I used to write tiny poems and little stories and turn them into songs. Sorry, I'm going to have to grab one of those beers and put it on my face. I'm melting!

That looks so good.

Take one, seriously!

What time did you wake up this morning?

My alarm went off at 8.15.

What did you have for breakfast?

A bowl of crunchy nut, and a croissant. 

Cats or dogs?

Cats. 

Town or country?

Country. I come from a tiny city (Rippon, in North Yorkshire), with only 10,000 people , so it's basically a town with a token cathedral. I was born in the countryside, though, and am very thankful to have moved back. It's so tranquil and beautiful. I love it. 

Who inspires you?

Nick Drake, Joni Mitchell, Kate Bush. And John Martyn, who is just the God of all things. 

Where do you like to escape to, when things get loud?

Good question. Probably to the rapeseed fields outside my house, although it's the wrong time of year for that at the moment. Or to a little seaside town, because they're the absolute cutest. I've never been, but I'd love to go to Iceland. I want to end up there, hopefully. I'm going to try and befriend Sigur Ros after this. Maybe they can whisk me away. 

All images: Lubna Anani

Pre-order Billie's beautiful album here. 

Oh Comely at Citadel: Talking Songwriting & Spice Girls with Rukhsana Merrise

Describing a subject as effervescent is up there with the very worst of interview cliches, but Rukhsana Merrise is exactly that. Commanding centre stage at Citadel last Sunday, she belted out choruses with grace and wisdom beyond her years, encouraging the audience to love themselves and stay away from bad people. 

Offstage, she's warm and familiar. She laughs with her hair thrown back, makes jokes at her own expense, and rolls her eyes into the back of her head with comic disdain. As she twirls around dramatically in her satin cape and breaks into an impromtu rendition of Madonna's Vogue, I realise I've found my new favourite singer-songwriter among the grass. 

As her label celebrates its tenth birthday, we sat down to chat about tour snacks, Spice Girls and September Songs: the critically acclaimed EP recorded from her childhood bedroom in four short weeks. 

You have such a wide range of influences. Did you grow up in a musical household? 

My Mum did that thing where you play classical music to your bump in the hope it will make the child smarter, and she exposed us to everything and anything. It was a typical Black household in that we were always listening to reggae and R&B, but we also loved Leo Sayer and Karen Carpenter and Joni Mitchell. Joni is just perfect. When I got into Joni I realised I could write about anything. London also inspires me. It's such a melting pot that it can't not influence your art in some way. 

Do you remember the first album you bought?

Nirvana. I bought it in a charity shop for £2, purely because it had the artwork of the baby swimming with his willy out. As a teenager I was just like: "What the fuck is this?! I'll buy it". My first single was 21 Seconds by So Solid Crew. That combo sums up the conflicts of my personality perfectly. Part rock, part grunge, with full-on grime thrown in. 

I was amazed at how quickly you put together your EP "September Songs", challenging yourself to write and release a new track every week for four weeks. That must have been such an intense process. 

You could set a dinner table, and if the guests don't show up on time you'll start fussing over whether the napkins are folded properly. If you do something last-minute, you don't have the time to live with it. I was becoming an artist and I was finding myself and my sound, and I didn't want to put anything out that wasn't authentically me. At the same time, I had ninety recordings stored on iTunes and every night I'd sit and think "You've got to come out one day. I promise I'll share you.". September Songs was my way of putting fire under my own ass, saying "Ok. Let's go."

It's a really organic process. Not everyone would do it that way. 

Thank you. Yeah, it all took off from that. I got spotted by Communion and before I knew it I was saying yes to tours and meeting people from all around the world. I couldn't ask for a better label. They get me, and they allow me the freedom to take my time. I'm working on the album right now, and it's very nearly there. 

I wanted to ask if you had any rituals that help you get in the zone before you write or perform...

Conversations inspire me to write. You can spend weeks trapped in your own head lost for answers, and then a snippet of something someone else says spells it out. I've been known to snap my fingers and say "There's the answer to the question!". Performance-wise, I spend every moment before I go on trying not to wet my pants. I'll have a couple of Beers to calm down, and I always chew trebor mints.

It's weird that you say that, because I develop a compulsive tic-tac habit when I'm nervous. 

Yeah, man! It's the menthol. It's calming. Other rituals? Nah. Apart from meditating. I got into it when my Dad passed away about three years ago. He had cancer and I looked after him throughout, so once it was all over I felt very imbalanced. I needed to re-centre after all of that frantic running around and sadness so I tried it out and loved it. It's so calming. 

I want to do a quick fire round. What time did you wake up this morning?

10.38 am. 

That's very specific. 

Yeah, I was supposed to be collected at 11am and I woke up like "Shiiiiiit." I had exactly twelve minutes to get dressed. 

Did you have breakfast?

No, I didn't. I had a coffee. 

Dogs or cats?

Cats. I've got two, Snoopy and Tinkerbell. 

What's your biggest guilty pleasure?

The Spice Girls. 

Excellent choice. What's your favourite Spice Girls song? 

*Breaks into song* I wannnaaa make you hollerrrr! Holler, Holler, Holler, C'monnnn! I drive everyone mad on the tour bus with it. 

Which Spice Girl is the best? 

As Tomboyish as I am, Emma was my favourite. I love Baby Spice. She always had all the best ad-libs. 

And fluffy pens. 

Yes! And the best hairstyles and bobbles. Cute little skirts and tops. I like Posh as well, because no one else did and she got a rep for standing around doing nothing. But just look at Vics now. Go on, girl!

Do you have a favourite late night tour bus snack?

Digestives. 

Plain ones or chocolate? 

Plain. All the way.  

Yes! The plain ones are woefully underrated. 

Exactly. Thank you! A chocolate digestive is like "Hey, pass the wet wipes! I'm everywhere! I'm melting!". Everyone complains that I choose the most boring, tasteless snacks, but to me they're perfect dunked in a cup of tea. I love digestives. I hand them out like a Nan. 

Who would you invite to your fantasy dinner party?

The Mad Hatter, because it would be a mad hatters tea party. Tim Burton, so I could inherit some of his craziness and use it to inspire me. And my Mum, so she knew it was real and that I wasn't just going off on one. And because she's amazing. She's such a strong woman. I always run to her immediately. It's boiling. Shall we get a beer? 

All images: Lubna Anani. 

Rukhsana shares more insight in the pages of our upcoming Letters Issue, in stores on 11th August.

Her label, Communion Records, are celebrating their tenth anniversary. Find out how you can join in the celebrations here, and keep an eye on the blog for more Citadel coverage coming very soon. 

Issue 31 playlist: adventure

Someone once told me you need to have adventures to become a good writer. Over the years this has taken on a broader meaning; everyone needs adventures to feel alive, big and small. You need the rattling percussion of Brigitte Bardot’s ‘Moi Je Joue’ as you head to the beach with your friends or the tingling anticipation of Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘America’ when you’ve made that life-changing decision that will bring you to another town, perhaps another country.

The playlist for issue 31 of Oh Comely will be your soundtrack to all those summer train journeys. Plug into Spotify here, lean your head against the window and watch the world flow past outside. 

Illustration: Pádhraic Mulholland. Watch him paint our pages in sixty seconds here, or check out Linnea's back catalogue of playlists (dating right back to issue one). Issue 31 available online, or wherever good magazines are sold. Happy adventuring! 

Song Premiere: Xylaroo

words Linnea Enstrom

3rd May 2016

At first, Xylaroo’s carefree guitar melodies and high flying harmonies paint a sun-drenched scenery in the listener’s mind. An open sea. The wind in your hair. That type of thing. But there’s more than a sparkly surface to their songs. The London duo - consisting of sisters Coco and Holly Chant - write about being lost and lonely and drinking too much. And about the courage of carrying on, throwing your darkness aside for a moment and feeling unashamedly alive.

Born in Papua New Guinea and Hong Kong respectively and counting places like Sri Lanka and Maidstone their homes, the sisters seem to owe their music’s uneasy vibrancy to having braved the unknown time and time again. They’re now settled in London (at least for now) and have crafted their non-stop journey into songs from the heart.

Today we’re proud to premiere their new track Narwhal, the B-side of their new single On My Way. Over email, we spoke to Xylaroo about growing up on the road and their debut album Sweetooth, out in June.

What do you want to achieve with your music?

We just want to make good music and don't have many expectations beyond that. It would be nice if people found some kind of meaning in it and if our songs could touch people - make them feel something and maybe even make them think a little differently about things.

You contrast upbeat guitar melodies with confessional and sometimes rather dark lyrics - for example "the lake is big and I'm nothing at all" on Narwhal. What's the reason behind that?

It all started with Rilo Kiley. We always loved how sweet and innocent their melodies were when compared to the lyrics. If you’re talking about dark and gloomy things, it’s good to throw in a little happiness, sweetness and sunshine. We're just playing around with associations and expectations. Our music is confessional because writing is kind of therapeutic, so things we’re worried about, ideas we like and personal experiences all get thrown into the mix.

You've lived in a lot of places. How have the traveling and constant upheaval influenced your sound?

Moving around has had a great influence. We write about what's around us and every place we've lived in and traveled to has its own idiosyncrasies and distinctive overtones which evoke feelings and memories that colour our music and give it ‘Flava Flav’. Quite a few of the songs on Sweetooth were written in Sri Lanka and are about things that happened there or at university in London. We’re also half-Papua New Guinean, so there have always been a lot of singing and a love of music in our family - traditional and modern.

When and how did you first get interested in music?

Our parents always played music around the house and threw parties. Our dad's a civil engineer and we used to go on long car journeys, so we'd sing a lot in the car. One time when we were younger and living in the Philippines, we sang - or yelled - Christmas songs in the car and the army pulled us over because they thought our car was stolen and that we were kidnapped children screaming for help. Hopefully we don't sound like screaming, kidnapped children anymore!

What's it like making music together as sisters? How does working together creatively affect your relationship?

Coco: I fucking hate Holly. She's a bitch to work with, but she writes good songs so I can't really complain.

Holly: I think it brings us closer together.

What are you most excited about at the moment?

Our last advance. Times are rough in London. No, but seriously… but seriously.

What's the idea behind Narwhal?

It’s about a breakup and feeling like a small narwhal in a big pond. It's kind of sad if the only shoulder you have to cry on is a narwhal's. They like to dance and are not good listeners. It's also just a song about being down in the dumps and drunk.

Interview with Colour Me Wednesday

words Laura Maw

25th April 2016

Colour Me Wednesday, in their own words, are a DIY feminist vegan indie pop-punk band, fronted by sisters Harriet and Jennifer Doveton, with bassist Carmela Pietrangelo. Infectiously catchy, their songs cover left-wing politics, mental health, feminism and veganism. Their new four-track EP, Anyone and Everyone, is full of their trademark sugary pop and punk candour, and accompanied by hand-made collaged CDs made from recycled materials in Harriet’s shed.

I met with Harriet and Jennifer before their gig at DIY Space in London, to talk about their new EP, riot grrrl and collaging.

Could you tell me a bit about making your EP?

Jennifer: I wrote Don’t Tell Anyone, the first song on there, for my solo project and Harriet really liked it. It’s about how there are certain things you just can’t change. The chorus is about not wanting people to know how hard you try if you fail. You can try and change yourself, but you just have to accept who you are.

Harriet: We’ve been playing that for about ten months, but all the other ones are really new. I wrote Two-Fifty For You Girls about white men telling me to stay out of politics, but they also want me to go out and vote for who they tell me to. A lot of the lyrics are based on real comments we’ve had, so they’re essentially quotes. Then we’ve got Horror Story, which is about paranoia when you’re making friends in your mid-twenties because you have no idea of their history. It’s about having that trust issue.

Did you make the artwork for the EP yourself? I love the collaged zine feel of them.

Harriet: Yeah, it was the size of this table! We did it on Jen’s floor and collaged the background and taped it down. We had to stand on a chair to photograph it and I was holding lamps by Jen’s legs. We live in such small spaces as well so it was quite hard! The vinyl isn’t made yet, but we have loads of handmade CDs.

And they’re all different, right?

Harriet: Yeah, it’s what we did when we first started the band. We just made everything ourselves from recycled stuff in my shed.

Do you just have a shed full of different collage materials?

Harriet: I do! It’s 100 percent collage.

Jennifer: And Stephen King novels.

Would you say the DIY/riot grrrl ethic influences the way you make your music?

Harriet: My first influence was Juliana Hatfield, but she was never put in the category of punk, which isn’t really fair because her music involved a lot of distortion. After I started playing guitar, when I was around 20, I got into riot grrrl.

Jennifer: I think it was part of a pool of influences, rather than being the only one. I’ve listened to a lot of Bikini Kill and what I’m most struck by is how bands like that inspired our generation. There are plenty of criticisms of it, like it was very white, but I think you can pick the good bits of the past.

You can choose what you bring forward... Speaking of riot grrrl and DIY, I was going to ask Harriet about Kate Nash, because you toured with her with The Tuts. She’s one of my favourite artists. How has she influenced your music?

Harriet: I remember being on Tumblr about four years ago seeing pictures of Kate Nash. She was playing electric guitar instead of keyboards and we noticed her transitioning into quite a punky style. We got in touch with her and sent her the music video Jen made for The Tuts and she just loved us. She’s really supportive of female musicians. I’ve got her album Girl Talk in my car, I listen to it all the time - it’s such an amazing album. That definitely influenced my songwriting.

What do you have lined up for the summer?

Harriet: We just got announced for a festival called Handmade in Leicester.

Jennifer: Our bassist Carmela’s solo project, Ay Carmela, is going on tour with my solo project, Baby Arms. After that we’re doing a European tour!

Colour Me Wednesday’s new EP is out now and available to buy here.

Music Interview: Thao and The Get Down Stay Down

There’s a surprising exuberance to A Man Alive, Thao and The Get Down Stay Down’s new album. Not because the San Francisco band, fronted by Thao Nguyen, are in any way inconspicuous--their live sets are known for their raucous energy--but in the light of the painful story at its core.

This is the first time Thao has used her eclectic take on rock to look inwards and explore her relationship with her absent dad. The result is empowering in its resilience. The vulnerability of her lyrics and high pitched vocals are contrasted--elevated even--by the insistently assertive beats and bass lines. Speaking to Thao just before the release of her sixth LP, I’m reminded that emotional hardship is a nuanced experience, full of intensity.

What have you been up to today? I spent most of the day hiking and by the ocean. It was sunny and warm and almost windless, which is a rare gem of a combination for San Francisco, so everyone stays outdoors for as long as possible. 

What drove you to create A Man Alive? As I began writing songs for the new record the only ones that were taking hold seemed to be about my relationship with my dad. I think they had to get out and their insistence drove the making of this record. I was reluctant at first to make something so personal. But I'd also reached a point in my life where I was ready to delve and confront in a way I hadn't been before. I started to embrace the idea of making something much more personal and direct for my own sake.

What were you inspired by at the time? I'm always most inspired by what I'm reading, and when I'm in songwriting mode I'm especially susceptible and seeking. In the beginning stages, it was Marilynne Robinson's novel Gilead. After one particular passage, I wept. I was struck by how much of my life and my dad I saw in one of the characters. Then I wrote Astonished Man, our most recently released single. It helped set the tone and precedent for the rest of the record. 

The tension between your feelings about your dad and the forceful sound is gripping. How did you go about this theme from a songwriting perspective? The two priorities of this record were to be more emotionally and sonically forthright. I wanted this record to better capture the emotion and energy we have playing live. I believe this record does that in a way none of the others have. I've always veered toward sublimation and it was very freeing and satisfying to be honest and express grief and joy and anger and hopelessness and optimism in equal, upfront measure. I also wanted to have fun and scream and dance and communicate with the audience on a more substantive and vulnerable level every time we performed.

Your previous album We The Common was inspired by your work in a women's prison. What prompted you to write about something more directly personal for this album? My early thirties. In all seriousness, I don't think I've allowed myself to be that vulnerable in my songs or my live performance. That's changed with age and experience. Writing, recording, and touring We The Common was so rewarding and rejuvenating and it led me first to my community and my city, and then to myself. There's only so much time you can go looking outward if you still have some inside business to sort out. 

You studied Sociology and Women's Studies at college. How has that affected your work as an artist? My intention in school was to go into social justice work. I found very quickly I didn't have the constitution to be on the front lines of that work, and I have so much respect and gratitude for the people who do. I believe I'm most effective using my job as a touring musician to help support the causes I love, and I promised myself I'd always keep those causes as close as I could. That allegiance gives me so much; it makes me want to make the best thing I can, and do as well as I can, that I might develop a sturdier platform and be of greater service, and it keeps me from getting carried away with myself and hopefully from becoming an asshole. 

What can you tell me about your song Astonished Man? It helped set the tone for content, but it also helped set the sonic tone for the album. It was one of the first songs recorded, and we knew pretty much right away that it would be the album opener. I have a lot of affection for this song because it captures an equanimity, compassion and optimism I don't always have. 

Also, making the video for Astonished Man was so fun. I had to call my mum and warn her about the - I think tasteful and nuanced - blood and gore. She did not take well to it upon first viewing, but has since warmed. It’s not a mum-friendly video.

A Man Alive is released on the 4th of March.

In Conversation with Throwing Shade: Human Rights Lawyer Turned Producer

words Linnea Enstrom, portrait Mafalda Silva

16th December 2015

“I don’t like to box myself in,” says Nabihah Iqbal a few minutes into our interview, sipping instant coffee in Dalston. This turns out to be an understatement. When the producer  - also known as Throwing Shade - released her Fate Xclusive EP earlier this year, everyone agreed that her textured and soothing digital sound defied genre conventions. But Nabihah also holds a degree in History and Ethnomusicology from SOAS, which she followed up by studying African History at Cambridge. After spending six months as a human rights lawyer in South Africa, her music career began to kick off and she decided to give it a go, putting her barrister title aside.

Apart from dropping a steady flow of EPs since - the next one due in early 2016 - Nabihah DJs, hosts her own NTS radio show and once sampled porn sounds for a piece of art that was partly censored by The Tate Collective. What does 2016 hold for Throwing Shade? The answer is unequivocally; music of all kinds and forms.

What are you working on at the moment?

Apart from the EP, I'm putting together a soundtrack for a Belgian film. It's a challenge because I have to make 45 minutes worth of music, which is a lot. But basing it on the visual stimulus allows me to be more free with the music.

Have you worked with visuals before?

The most similar thing I’ve done was when I got commissioned by The Tate Collective, which is the youth branch of Tate, to do a piece of music that reflected a Turner Price artist’s [James Richard] work. It was fun, but it actually got censored. That was the idea I was trying to approach in the first place, so it was funny that it happened.

How did it get censored?

I sampled a woman receiving oral sex. It’s very intense. Listening to the sounds over and over again made me feel mental. The track divided into three parts, like three movements, and the first bit is a bit more poetic and you can’t tell what’s going on straight away, but then it gets… clearer. That was the bit I had to take out. The Tate Collective had to take into account that they're potentially catering to an underage audience. The art that I was given was so explicit, so obviously I thought I had the same freedom with the music, but I understand where they were coming from and why I had to amend it. I still have the unamended version, though.

The whole idea behind it was that pornography is such a visual thing and it's considered to be explicit because of the visual aspect, so I thought "what if you take away the visuals and just keep the sound, is it still scandalous?"

Apparently so!

Exactly. So that was the answer to my question.

What is your song Honeytrap about?

It's about a honeytrap plan gone wrong. Someone has set up a honeytrap to seduce the other person, but in the end they fall in love and go off together. That was the premise of the song. I read a dark article about a murder in South London that happened a few years ago, which was about a honeytrap gone wrong, but in a different way. The guy got killed. This one has a happy ending.

In the video, you turn the idea of the objectified female body on its head and make it from your perspective, with undressed guys rather than girls.

Both the Honeytrap and Sweettooth videos deal with that. It's done in a tongue-in-cheek way, not too serious, but I wanted it to be a little thought provoking. Also, I just wanted a video with hot guys in it. You never see that.

Although it’s so common for women.

That's something I'm really conscious of. Women in the music industry are always photographed in a sexual way or not wearing much clothes. The idea of Beyoncé wearing jeans and a t-shirt just seems scandalous because we're so used to seeing her in a bodysuit all the time. That’s weird right? I believe that everyone should be able to dress the way they want to, but at the same time those women's choices are really determined by the structure they’re operating in. They're selling big pop hits to a mass market and sex sells and everybody knows that, but I think there are other ways to go about it. I read this article about Adele on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine and how it's a seminal cover because it's the first time they have a woman on the cover who’s not naked or portrayed in a sexually provocative way and how that's a strong message. But that's not the truth. The reason they don't portray her body is because they see her as fat. So it's not an important cover for women, not at all.

How do you pick the music for your NTS radio show?

I try to play music that haven’t been heard before and that I like and want to share. A lot of it is stuff I collected from when I was studying at SOAS. They have an amazing music archive of rare recordings that you can't get anywhere else. Sometimes I will have a themed show and base the music around that, but other times I will try to play every track from a different country and vary the selection. I also do research, so that I can speak about the songs. Some of the stuff I play is so weird that you need to contextualise it.

It must be a totally different process from doing your DJ nights?

Most of the music I play on the radio wouldn't be fit for a dance floor - unless you want to kill the party! When I DJ, I just want to put on lots of good tunes that will make people dance. I also try to mix songs together, because it makes it more memorable. Recently, I did a loop of the acapella version of Destiny's Child’s Say My Name over the beginning bit of Blue Monday by New Order and it totally worked and everyone loved it.

Throwing Shade is playing Corsica Studios in London on the 19th of December.

Song Premiere: Wovoka Gentle

words Linnea Enstrom, portrait Sequoia Ziff

20th November 2015

Twin sisters Imogen and Ellie Mason have been singing together since they were kids, eagerly circling the piano with their family to the point where family friends would refer to them as the von Trapps. At six they picked up the violin and formed a string quartet with their siblings and, as teenagers, they began writing their own songs.

Teaming up with fellow singer songwriter William Stokes, Imogen and Ellie now go under the name Wovoka Gentle and make folk music draped with sparkling electronic and experimental sounds, fusing the soundtrack of their upbringing with a desire to create something new.

Today, we're premiering the London trio’s track Likeness from their new blue EP (the follow-up to their yellow EP, released earlier this year) - a song, fittingly, about family.

What have you been up to today?

Today we were celebrating our birthday, so we had a load of friends over for breakfast at our house in South East London. There were lots of flowers and bacon.

How would you describe your new EP?

It’s punchy and uncompromising and, at times, quite layered. It may take a bit of excavating, but at its core is a set of simple and approachable songs. The blue and yellow EPs are two parts of a single body of work which we made over the first three months of this year in Scotland. They were actually recorded at the same time, but because we mixed the blue EP after the yellow one with a different producer in a different studio, we feel that it still represents a progression of some kind.

You have made music together for a long time, but how did William fit into it?

We were mutual fans of each other's music for a long time, and since our individual projects began to wind down at similar times we naturally gravitated together. We were so excited by the band dynamic and the new sounds we were making that it seemed like such a natural transition to explore, turning the band into a full time project. Our first outing as Wovoka Gentle was scoring a physical theatre piece at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe this summer.

You use your instruments in an unconventional way. How did that transpire?

It started with hitting guitars with drumsticks because we liked the combination of the melodic with the percussive, and then started to consider the sonic potential in all sorts of instruments beyond the ways they are conventionally used. We like doing things like playing the tops of synthesisers with drumsticks, putting vocal mics through guitar pedals and using mobile phones as part of our live set. Maybe there is no “correct” way to play an instrument.

You have previously said you want your listeners to be part of your music's narrative. In what way?

The music we respond to the most has often been stuff that has taken multiple listens to yield its best aspects. As Wovoka Gentle, we want to create music that is accessible but also intriguing and at times challenging. We want to experiment but not in an esoteric way, so maybe that narrative is one of coming around to find meaning in something you didn’t initially think of as easy or digestible.

When did you first discover folk music and 60s psych?

We have been surrounded by traditional folk and Americana music for as long as we can remember - it was always playing in our house growing up. More psychedelic bands, like The Beach Boys and The Beatles were also a big part of our musical upbringing. Will grew up listening to people like Paul Simon and James Taylor, but really got into folk music later on through his association with the West London folk scene in 2008 and 2009.

What is Likeness about?

Likeness is a song about inheritance and taking on characteristics of your father. It’s kind of like a response piece to Philip Larkin’s This Be The Verse. 

Wovoka Gentle is launching the blue EP with a headline show at London’s Elektrowerks on Monday. The record is released on the 27th of November.

Song Premiere: Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch

words Aimee-Lee Abraham

3rd November 2015

Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch never intended to become a composer. Growing up in a non-musical family in sleepy Bordeaux, she tells me over tea that it happened purely ‘by accident’. Her mother blasted Bach every Sunday, but plucking strings and pressing keys were pastimes, never viable career options.

One afternoon, a ten year old Emilie discovered that she could put her own treasures together rather than just recreating other people’s music, and an unexpected infatuation planted seed in her stomach. Before she knew it she was spending pocket money on soundcards and cheap microphones, making her own mark in an industry that continues to be overwhelmingly dominated by middle-aged men.

"I surprised myself," she laughs. "It wasn’t a conscious choice. I just realised that I could create things, and was so excited about where it could lead. It happened naturally." Bored hands crafted melodies from scratch, and Emilie soon improvised her way out of France altogether.

In person, Emilie is so softly spoken that I spend the majority of the interview jiggling my knees beneath the bar, fretting about the recording when her dulcet tones keep getting drowned out by the hungry men securing business at the next table.

She’s almost swan-like in stature, but on record she’s an absolute tour-de-force; crafting complex pieces that have led to a record deal from 130701, the experimental arm of Fat Cat and the label who discovered Sigur Ros. Her work is difficult to describe. Combining electro with piano and string quartets, Like Water Through Sand is an instrumental artwork which defies classification: it is simply gorgeous to immerse oneself in.

Until now, solo-work has remained untrodden ground for Emilie. Crafting scores for budding filmmakers she met at university, personal favours for friends soon grew into a substantial, critically-acclaimed career as a soundtrack composer.

Emilie has a strong reputation in film, and I wonder how the process of going it alone differed from her usual collaborations. "It’s funny, I never dreamed I’d be a recording artist," she explains. "I was always a collaborator, and I enjoyed seeing my music as a part of something bigger, being inspired by a larger picture and making it fit. You become immersed in the director’s world, and it’s a dialogue, but it’s still kind of sad, because you rarely spend time on-set like other members of the team. You craft something together, but rarely meet, so it’s still lonely."

The album, on the other hand, has been a lesson in self-belief. "It’s a monologue - I had the complete freedom to say what I needed to say," she beams.

Having spent her masters acquiring a vast array of eccentric avant-garde influences to balance alongside a childhood love for cheesy French pop, she tells me she has since grown away from the need to innovate and shock. "I realised that my love for the process was enough, and that I didn't need some grand, innovative motive," she explains. In her pursual of simplicity and beauty instead, I get the impression she has grown tremendously as an artist, even though we have just met. Even to untrained ears, the recording processes used seem dizzyingly advanced, combining many genres and methods, but the output is soft and dreamy. It’s music to fall in love with on leafy walks home.

Here we premiere Emilie's new track Tulsi. Like Water Through Sand is out on FatCat records on 13th November 2015.

An Interview with Chastity Belt

words Words Linnea Enstrom, Portraits Mafalda Silva

2nd November 2015

“I just wanna have a good time,” sings Julia Shapiro on the last track of Chastity Belt’s second  album, Time To Go Home. The lyric has a sad twang to it, like she’s hunched on the curb outside a bar, feeling too drunk and restless to roll back home. 

The Seattle four piece can be described as a college party band that evolved into something more sincere. If their first album No Regerts (typo intended) was all about getting wasted with your friends and shouting “giant vagina” at frat parties, Time To Go Home is the moment the lights come on and you shuffle between the kissing couples, trying to find your jacket. Even a bluntly celebratory song like Cool Slut is melodically hesitant, almost unsure of itself.

That isn’t to say the fun is totally over. As I sit down with guitarist Lydia Lund and bass player Annie Truscott in the backstage area of Dalston venue The Victoria, their tour camper van parked on the other side of the road, I get the feeling they laugh a lot. Jittery with pre-show excitement, they tell me about how growing up has changed their sound.

There’s a sadness to Time To Go Home compared to your debut. Why do you think that is?

Lydia: Maybe part of it is coming to terms with being out of the college bubble. A lot of the songs on the first album were written for college parties and an audience that just wanted to have fun. The band was a mixture between being a reaction to the party scene and also playing into it and wanting to let loose and have fun and play songs that were so simple we could be wasted. In the beginning we felt like our lyrical content had to be sarcastic to be taken seriously. We felt secure within the sarcasm. 

Annie: We didn’t take ourselves seriously, like it was all a joke anyway.

Lydia: When people started to take us seriously, we started to take ourselves more seriously and speak more frankly.

When did that happen?

Lydia: If there was a moment, it was probably when we moved to Seattle. I had never thought that being in a band was something I could seriously do after college or even not seriously do - it was just not on my radar at all. We were offered a show in Seattle and the scene was just so supportive and full of wonderful women playing music. Before that, we were in a small town called Walla Walla. We weren’t in the town scene; we were just playing college parties and the only women making music…. And then obviously, slowly growing up.

Annie: We’ve become better musicians and older humans.

Did you know each other before you started the band?

Lydia: I was mostly friends with Julia and we came up with the idea of Chastity Belt…

Annie: … At a party!

Lydia: We thought it would be so funny if we just chanted that and if we were in a punk band. It wasn’t serious, so it was okay to do it.

Annie: It was a name before a band.

Does touring still feel like a party?

Annie: It’s a balance. If we’re totally sober, the performance isn’t as good, but if we go crazy it’s also terrible.

Lydia: We get along incredibly well and everyone brings something different to the table for touring. It feels like we’re in a relationship.

Annie: It’s like a four way marriage.

Lydia: A big part of it is just about being practical about arguments and things and having fun together and loving each other.

What are you working on at the moment?

Lydia: We’ve written a few new songs. Some are more jammy. One of them came out of us just playing together, in practice.

Annie: It’s more mature than the last two albums. We’ve all gotten better as we go.

Lydia: We’re more acquainted with our instruments. Julia and I had guitar lessons in middle school, but I had never played chords, which is why I had terrible rhythm skills when we started Chastity Belt.

Annie: You would just turn your amp down!

Lydia: A lot of it had to do with confidence. It’s so cool… Chastity Belt has given me so much confidence as a musician and a human, ha!

I consider you a feminist band that don’t want to be defined by your gender identity. Do you agree?

Annie: Totally. I think people want to pigeonhole you as a feminist band if you are all women and if you write songs from a woman’s perspective, like we do. Feminism comes into it, but we don’t have a specific feminist agenda. We’re just women - it’s the way we see the world.

Chastity Belt are playing Brixton Academy on Wednesday 4th November.

An Interview With Alela Diane

words Luísa Graça

19th October 2015

“A blue and windy day a month or so ago was the last gasp of summertime this year. And now the cold has come in, it’s damp and grey again,” wrote American singer songwriter Alela Diane about a year ago at a café in Portland. Words that can now be heard (and felt) in the opening track of her latest album Cold Moon, a collaborative work with producer and guitarist Ryan Francesconi.

When Alela and Ryan ran into each other at a mutual friend’s show, they were both feeling a little bit lost, creatively. Alela had recently become a mother and didn’t know how to approach music next; Ryan, who often tours with Joanna Newsom and arranges her records, missed playing the guitar.

Soulful, touching and incredibly beautiful, their collaboration presents simple, yet eternal observations and questions about life. It’s the perfect soundtrack for the cold days to come.

It seems like your collaboration with Ryan happened in a very natural way.

It really did. One week after we talked, around September 2014, he sent me some beautiful guitar pieces. I started working on the lyrics and we would meet in person about every other week. We didn’t make any decisions, but just focused on each individual song. By January, we realised we had a collection of songs that seemed cohesive and decided to record them. There was no pressure. It was very easy, very simple to work together. We recorded the whole album at Ryan’s house and he did all of the engineering. I hope people can discover the songs as the seasons are changing, just like we did.

How did collaborating with someone differ from working on your own?

It forced me to write lyrics that were not as innately personal and to explore melody in a different way. Initially, I wrote some words that fit into a narrative and I was trying to sing them over one of his guitar pieces and it didn’t feel right. There’s so much of Ryan in these songs that I needed to tune in to what he was trying to convey. It was a different lyrical process for me and it forced me to observe things differently, from a broader angle.

Is it important not to take yourself too seriously in order to remain creative and honest in your writing?

It doesn’t sit well with me when people carry their egos around and I make every effort to not do that. I want to create work from an honest place, work that I feel good about. And not worry too much about how it’s perceived or what I’m putting out in the world. I just try to be true to myself.

How has motherhood changed the way you work?

It forces me to be very conscious about the space and time that I have to write. I didn’t have that much time to commit to the project, but I used every little moment that I had to work on it, which was interesting.

How about subjectively?

It changed me and the way I see the world. I think a lot of the lyrics are influenced by it. Having a child, I find myself thinking a lot about the life cycle and how mysterious it is. The way we come into the world, the curious way a child sees the world.

I get a sense of hope in this album. Was that something you were going for?

That’s something I’m always looking for in the world - a thread of hope, observing the beauty even in the darkest things. And as much as these songs are broader than my other work, it’s still my perspective.

Alela Diane and Ryan Francesconi are playing Komedia in Brighton on the 10th of November and Bush Hall in London on the 11th of November.

An Interview with Girlpool

words Linnea Enstrom, portrait Mafalda Silva

5th October 2015

The experience of girlhood is avidly documented, fictionalised and capitalised on, yet it rarely shakes you in the way that LA duo Girlpool manages to.

Their debut album Before The World Was Big, released in June this year, questions identity, sexuality and coming of age with poetic lyrical depth and uncompromising imagery, like on the fourth track Chinatown: “Come down and visit with me / I’m lying dead on my knees / Do you feel restless when you realise you’re alive?”

Emotional honesty, intensified by their raw vocals, sung in unison, and simple two-chord melodies, is always at the core of their songs. It’s hard to imagine their music without it. Just like Girlpool breathes the artistry - and friendship - of two seemingly inseparable people, Cleo Tucker (guitar) and Harmony Tividad (bass).

Watching the band live at London’s Scala recently, the last gig of their UK tour, felt like standing beneath a wire walker you know won’t fall. Without banging drums or keys, the music becomes vulnerable, sincere, and forms a bond with the crowd. Which is why humanity felt pretty doomed to fail when, during their closing song Cherry Picking, someone shouts “You have nice tits” at the stage. The next day, Harmony tweets about the incident, calling it “isolating and awful”. The feminist poignancy of one of their earlier tracks, Slutmouth, is terribly sad, but seems all the more crucial for it: “I go to work everyday / Just to be slutshamed one day”.

I speak to Girlpool ahead of their performance at Scala. Cleo is ill and coughing and I’m told I have to keep it short. In a red coloured booth looking down at the stage, we quickly delve into the development of their creative bond, minimalism and why vulnerability is so important.

What have you been up to since your album was released?

Cleo: We’ve just been touring a bunch. Hanging out and playing shows. Since the record came out we did a tour with Frankie Cosmos and now, as we’re here, we’re going to do some stuff with Stephen Steinbrink.

What did you find in each other creatively, from the beginning, that felt right?

Harmony: We had similar intentions in terms of what we wanted to make and that was really powerful and cool to experience, so we pursued it. It was just a feeling. 

Cleo: We wanted the lyrics to be really important. We had a clear, minimalist vision of how we wanted to be as straightforward and pure with it as possible. Initially we thought about getting a drummer, but we just didn’t know who would be on the same wavelength, so we stuck with just the two of us and it has been very special.

In one of your previous interviews you talk about vulnerability as something powerful. Why are you drawn to it?

Cleo: I think vulnerability can facilitate closeness between people. It’s a pure way to be. We started the project with the intention of being as honest and forward with each other as possible. We wanted it to be as close as possible to what we felt - really concentrated music. Vulnerability is something that comes out of being honest and confronting yourself.

Have you been able to be honest with each other the whole way through?

Harmony: Yeah, I think we bring it out of each other. There just isn’t any other way to be. We are generally very straightforward and emotionally aware of ourselves and people around us, so to not bring those feelings out of each other would be impossible.

Cleo: When we first started Girlpool we grew much closer because we were spending more time together, writing and making music. When you start to get to know a person you get to know the things you have in common and the things you don’t align with. We both made conscious decisions and efforts to identify our differences and embrace them and understand them, which I feel is something I’ve rarely done before. That made us really comfortable and strengthened our writing process. We were able to accept the differences that might have scared us initially.

How would you describe your writing process?

Harmony: We’re constantly communicating about how we’re doing in our lives. Usually we start with a lyric or a melodic idea. If we talk about something, we’re like “how can we articulate this musically?” It can go in any direction within that, starting with chords or whatever. It’s about the most most natural way of getting there and feeling comfortable.

Have you had an interest in writing before or has that developed with the band?

Cleo: We’re both written on our own, but we’ve never collaborated with anybody else in this way, writing words together. It’s just an entirely different exercise. It’s about sharing an idea with another person and then exploring it with them, becoming sensitive to… it’s hard to articulate… like you become more malleable to be able to… I don’t know, how do you explain it?

Harmony: It’s like if you have a hat of ideas and words and they’re all really soft and delicate. You pick them out and see what’s yours and what isn’t yours and you have to be extra careful with those that aren’t yours.

Do you take on the other person’s emotions and experiences?

Cleo: We never try to wear each other’s feelings, but we try to…

Harmony: … find ourselves in the feeling.

Cleo: We try to understand it.

Harmony: It’s about finding words that capture two different ideas.

Are you working on anything new at the moment?

Cleo: We have written some new stuff. We’re always talking and drawing and thinking

What do you draw?

Cleo: Harmony makes cool comics. I like to doodle and draw weird things. I’m really into blank contours right now.

Does the different mediums of art you use inform each other?

Harmony: It all informs itself. It’s like a giant painting, everything that you make is part of you. It all goes back and forth. It can’t be articulated or understood entirely. Art is like empathy. It goes deep, like brainwaves, water shaking. We just want to be able to create freely and not feel confined by anything.

45 Years: An Exclusive Playlist Made by Director

words Jason Ward

10th August 2015

Adapted from a short story by David Constantine, Andrew Haigh's new film 45 Years is about a complacently happy married couple, Kate (Charlotte Rampling) and Geoff (Tom Courtenay), whose lives are thrown into disarray when the long-lost body of Geoff's first love is discovered in the Swiss Alps, frozen and unchanged after decades in a glacier.

A beautifully told, quietly moving two-hander about an unexpected marital crisis, 45 Years features wonderful, lived-in performances from its leads, and further confirms Andrew as one of Britain's most talented film-makers. Ahead of its release in cinemas and on demand from 28th August, the writer-director has put together an exclusive playlist of songs for Oh Comely, inspired by and included in the film.

Given that 45 Years doesn't feature a score, its sound design and use of music is crucial. Andrew told us about his process of selecting music: “Most of the music choices were in the script. I was trying to have songs that reflected the past and parts of their character.” He mentions a key song from the film, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by The Platters, which Kate and Geoff had played at their wedding. “I love their choice for their first dance, because really when you listen it's unclear whether it's a happy song or a really melancholy one. I've heard it being played at wedding parties before and thought, wow, I'm not sure if that's super romantic.” Andrew relates this idea to another song the couple like in the film, Go Now by The Moody Blues: “It has the perception of being romantic but then when you listen to the lyrics you think, 'my god, really?' I find that juxtaposition in music really interesting: that something might have the sense of being a romantic song but the truth behind the lyrics mean something different.”

45 Years: A Playlist Curated by Director Andrew Haigh (available on Spotify) 

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire - The Ink Spots

Remember (Walking in the Sand) - The Shangri-Las

Suzanne - Leonard Cohen

The Old Man's Back Again - Scott Walker

Stagger Lee - Lloyd Price

I Only Want to Be With You - Dusty Springfield

Tell It Like It Is - Aaron Neville

Happy Together - The Turtles

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The Platters

Go Now - The Moody Blues

45 Years is released in UK cinemas and through Curzon Home Cinema on 28th August. You can listen to the exclusive playlist here.

Photos: Agatha A. Nitecka.