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SOUNDS GOOD Chris Jones Julie Landers Paul McLoon
e David Kitt Idiot Check [Re:Warm] Perlee Speaking from Other Rooms [Self-Release] The ninth long-player from David Kitt finds Dublin’s king of low-key (now relocated to rural Kerry) on frankly flying form. Its ten tracks manage the elusive feat of being both cohesive and subtly eclectic, quietly pushing things beyond the merely folky, and yielding frequently striking textures without swamping the tunes. Crucially, there are hooks aplenty here: album opener Every Little Drop sets the tone, its descending acoustic chords offset by a lone synth-drum hinting at vibes to come. Not So Soon is downright funky in that patented, only-half-bothered David Kitt sort of way, while lyrically typical of the themes here: “There’s a train that leaves at 9am, from forever to I-don’t-know-when”, one of many couplets that seem to speak to a sense of departure (physical or otherwise) toward an uncertain destiny. Wishing Well explores questions of faith against a warm, hazy backdrop of electronica, punctuated by jagged shards of guitar. It shouldn’t work, which is precisely why it does. Elsewhere, fans of Kitt’s earlier, stripped down style will find much to love in tracks like Balances, and the lovely Wexford Strawberries. On backing vocals, the brilliant Katie Kim is dependably great throughout, especially on my personal favourite Till The End (sounding a bit like David Sylvian fronting Prefab Sprout, which is a very good thing) while the moody All Folly features a rare appearance from Mary Margaret O’Hara. All told, this is possibly David’s best yet. You’d be an idiot not to check it out. PMcL What does it mean to love in the times and geographies we find ourselves in? To act from a place of love, what do you need to know about yourself? These are the types of questions Berlin-based duo Perlee (Saramai Leech and Cormac O’Keeffe) confront and ultimately embrace on their debut album Speaking from Other Rooms. Made across lockdowns and oceans, it is a deeply reflective work where the dreamy and the concrete are held in perfect balance. With each listen there’s something further to appreciate; the balance struck between the upbeat and the downtempo (Lampshade and Pomegranate are interestingly placed neighbours on the album but ultimately offer each other ample space to be heard and explored), layered vocals which expand and contract from the heart of each track (the chorus of Reckoning is a standout example in this regard) and resolutions which simultaneously offer wholeness and a hope for more (album closer The Wave leaves you wanting more but not from a place of hunger). There is nothing superfluous about Speaking from Other Rooms. Each sonic element is positioned with an appreciation and care that lends itself to the creation of a body of work that is resounding in its message and motivations. It’s a glowing ode to loving across distance, time and the pressures of the modern age. Leech and O’Keefe are fully aware that the act of loving is for those who love the work and create dazzling soundscapes which bloom forth from the fact. JL Arborist An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeros [Kirkinriola Records] Album number three from Mark McCambridge’s Arborist project was recorded in Richmond, Virginia with Domino act Matthew E White. McCambridge, who hails from Ballymena in County Antrim, specialises in a singularly Ulster-flavoured take on Americana, so the collaboration with White seemed like a good fit and so it proves. Songcraft has always been Arborist’s strong suit, aided by his exceptionally strong baritone voice and witty lyrics that interrogate family life, the everpresent weight of religion and the travails of the creative process. Matisse takes a typically wry look at the latter, pondering the gap between the work of great artists and how it may have been conceived. “You should have heard it in my head,” he concludes of his own song, which is set to sweet harmonies worthy of Fleet Foxes and an indelible chorus. Elsewhere, Black Halo and Weeping Rot cover similarly lilting, alt. country ground, the gothic imagery (“You’ve memorised the sparkle of your mother’s blood”) leavened with pedal steel, luminous organ and gorgeous melodies. There are outliers, though. Notably, opener Dreaming In Another Language has the adventurous spirit of Wilco, with its hypnotic guitar loop and discordant squalls deep in the mix. But the centrepiece to An Endless Sequence of Dead Zeros is the spare Unkind; an enigmatic song with some arrestingly blunt lyrics (“You could break the bastard’s arm, but that would be unkind”) that are typical of a gorgeous record where menace lies just beneath the surface. CJ CLICK IT OUT… 44 We know it and so should you food, fashion, photography, film, books, magazines, music, design, drink and a curated section of events for you to consider www.totallydublin.ie