Aidan & The Wild – Running

I’m an occasional runner. Many moons ago, I’d take it quite seriously and have a record of plodding around a variety of half-marathon courses. Work colleagues who know me now still look at me incredulously when I mention that I once even ran a full marathon. It’s not something that I could do now. 

In fact, back last year in the midst of the first lockdown, I decided to take it all up again. I went online and bought some kit with which I could run around the park that’s opposite. I had the ‘From Couch to 5k’ app on my phone and some whizzy songs designed to make the experience forgettable that I’d listen to if it got too much. I knew it would be tough but I had no idea it would be that tough. Gasping for air, unable to catch my breath for hours after each run, I simply couldn’t get through what was being asked of me from week one of the app. I’m not proud to say that I gave up. My new running shoes (that weren’t a great fit for my heavy stomp) sit relatively pristine in the hallway. I keep threatening myself that I ought to pick it up again now. I doubt I ever will.

Diederik van den Brandt is the man behind Aidan & The Wild. The musician from Eindhoven felt a similar desire to me during the initial lockdown. His running career appears to have become more of a routine though, albeit slight. “I actually overdid the running in the first two weeks and had to tone it down because of an ache in my joints.”, says Diederik when we exchange e mails. “Since then it’s been a very periodical thing!

But Diederik was able to write a pretty neat song about the experience. Warming us up with a gentle folk stroll, it’s not long before we’re striding along in time with the Americana influences. Diederik’s ‘disarmingly honest’ breathy vocal sits on top of it all to form a perfect work-out. “This song has become a description of that first run after six years of no real exercise, and the rapidly changing world that forced this event.“, says Diederik by way of summary.

Commentating about the state of the world is something that’s clearly important for Aidan & The Wild. Diederik has followed up on the release of ‘Running’ with a second single from the forthcoming album,’Revelation Never Came’. In ‘It’s Alright’, we find Diederik in cautionary mode, describing a world that is clearly anything but OK. It’s a track that has the same Americana wallow of ‘Running’ and yet one that further cements Aidan & The Wild as ones to keep an eye on. 

I’ll have to catch them first. Now, where are those trainers? 

 

Another Vision – Heartbeat

I make no apology for the longer length of today’s Sonic Breakfast post. It’s a weekend after all and we have more time to read and write, to convey and listen, to think and be.

Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh and the Queen’s husband for donkeys years died on Friday aged 99. The media in the UK is awash with stories about how great the man was. I rather suspect that he wasn’t as flawless as he’s being presented. This isn’t a blog post about him though. 

My Nan, born as Frances but known throughout her life as Sally, also passed away aged 99. She desperately clung to life in those latter years despite her short term memory failing her. She wanted to get her telegram from the Queen for reaching a century. Sadly, it didn’t happen. It’s my Nan who I’ve thought about most this weekend whilst the TV coverage provided an endless showreel of Philip’s ‘great’ works of charity. Her wonderful warm nature, enduring laughter and effervescent fizz was unforgettable to all who met her.

When my Nan died, letters that she proudly clung to were found in her bedside cabinet. They were love letters from my George, my Grandad. “Whatever did I see in George Fripp“, my Nan would mischievously joke in her latter years. We could all see beyond the joke though to know that their companionship was a thing of strength and beauty. 

The love letters from George are an amazing read. A man of the countryside, a solid oak, he was not (I imagine) prone to floral language or the poetry of the romantics. And yet, in these letters that document a specific time in the lives of Sally and George, the ruddy emotion of his love flows strong. 

My Nan has travelled to Vienna. It is the 1930’s and I assume the menace of Naziism must loom large – though no reference of the external political scene is made. Nan is on an extended vacation. She’s visiting an Austrian friend, an expert cake-maker, and is learning baking skills to bring back home to the kitchen in which she works. My Grandad works in the stables on the same estate.

The scrawl fades but the words are still visible. Grandad must have been pressing hard, tightly grasping the pencil as he carves out his craft. It becomes clear that George has proposed to Sally just before she left for Austria but my Nan, perhaps shocked by his demonstration of affection, has delayed with her answer. “I’ll give you my answer on my return from Vienna,”, she says. 

But as the story develops and the letters grow in number, it’s clear that Sally is having a change of heart. Perhaps absence has made the heart grow fonder but in one landmark letter from my Grandad, it becomes evident that the proposal has been accepted. “You make me the happiest man in all of England“, says George before suggesting that he should obtain the permission of parents whilst Sally is away. The language is agricultural and elemental but starkly beautiful. I read the letters to cheer myself up if ever I’m feeling down.

Vienna holds quite a place in my heart. It’s delicious to know that it was from the city, surrounded by sugary whirls and chocolate swirls, that part of my family history is secured. I’ve been there a couple of times but would like to spend longer exploring in the future. The last time I visited was as part of the Eurovision Song Contest. It’s fair to say that my memories of that weekend are blurred by drunken excess and all-night parties. 

Michael Schmücking is one half of Another Vision. Until recently, he lived and loved in Vienna until moving back to his hometown, Innsbruck. He remembers the Eurovision in Vienna well. “That was a special summer in Vienna I’d say,“, says Michael. “I was never that interested in EVSC but we spent the night at Cafe Savoy at Naschmarkt to watch the Vienna edition, wich was a total blast!

Another Vision have recently released a single, Heartbeat. It’s atmospheric, grainy pop; the analog synths offering more than a nod to an Eighties influence. Restrained at the start but one that you know will erupt into a storm of emotion, the impending sense of loss is never far away. “You fade away, I let go. Memories, I want to hold on“, sing Another Vision in the chorus – simply and effectively summing up the longing at the heart of Heartbeat.

I moved from Vienna back to our hometown Innsbruck in Tyrol, which is also part of the whole story around our upcoming songs as well as in Heartbeat.“, says Michael about the tune. “Moving is a strange thing these times I’d say.

Here at Sonic Breakfast, I’d tend to agree. Heartbeat is equal parts romantic and sad, optimistic and reflective. It seems highly appropriate for a weekend such as this. 

 

Brophy’s Law – The Bachelor

As another weekend approaches, we can almost celebrate that this’ll be the last that we have to endure (in the UK) without pubs. Yes, it’ll only be outside spaces and gardens that will be open from Monday but at least we’ll all be able to get the pints in again. Of course, there will be stipulations, not least that tables will need to be booked and they’ll likely be at a premium given our collective thirst but it’s a step in the right direction. 

The reopening of pubs will no doubt be warmly received by The Bachelor, the lead character in the recently-released all-time favourite live track from Brophy’s Law. The Bachelor is a man who likes a drink. Indeed, crucial life decisions are made by him based on his ability to stay close to the bar. He avoids marriage and long-term relationships because drinking at the bar is of more importance. 

I’m sure we all know people like The Bachelor. Indeed, I’ve never been married and have spent more than my fair share of time propped up on a barstool. Others, looking on in from the outside, might perceive that this song is a fair description of my life. I’d deny such accusations pointing to the wealth of extra-curricular interests I have. But I concede that those who rarely go to pubs are on another spectrum in comparison to my good self.

Brophy’s Law specialise in good-time, traditional Irish folk with a punk(ish) seam. They cite the glory days of The Pogues and the creative spirit of The Clash as major influences and that can certainly be seen within The Bachelor. This is music that you want to dance wildly to at a festival – let’s hope that some will go ahead this year and we’ll get our chance to spill our ciders (and Guinness) as we stumble into accidental mosh pits and declare that all is grand with the world. Brophy’s Law might well have festival appearances and a tour to Canada to look forward to in August though I suppose that could be on hold depending upon the speed that we get back to something approaching normality.

The opening of pub gardens (after this weekend and in the UK) signals another step forward. Wishing you all a spirited weekend when it comes. 

King Casio – Big Truck

I loved my two trips to Groningen for the Eurosonic festival. They formed part of a perfect January break. As snow and sleet fell all around and I stomped from venue to venue across the city dressed like an Eskimo, I probably took the freedom of it all for granted. Packed bars and clubs hosted the finest up and coming acts from across Europe and I was in my element. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

On that first trip to Groningen, I had a brief conversation with some cool dudes at Southend Airport. You can read about that encounter here. I’ve since written about L.A. Salami and Francobollo a few times for eFestivals and have always made an effort to see them live when they’ve been on a festival bill. The brief encounter at the airport was one of those fortuitous moments that life keeps spinning back to.

 

I was thus very happy to hear about the make-up of King Casio. An Anglo-Swedish trio formed between vocalist Aaron King and members of Francobollo, they specialise in psychedelic Lo-fi ambles. King Casio’s first two singles had videos directed by L.A. Salami but I’ll let you review those in your own time. Today, let’s look at their latest release, Big Truck. 

Aaron describes ‘Big Truck’ as “happy, sad and a bit nostalgic as well. It came about through my cat getting run over and it symbolised the sudden death of a relationship. These two events informed the feel of the song, which allowed us to think about how It was sad to lose these things, but happy to have had them in the first place.

The sudden death of a relationship and the mixed emotions that ensue – that’s clearly a universal theme that we can all get behind.

Musically, Big Truck is an awkward yet compelling track. It’s no singalong but I don’t think that entirely matters. Jazz tones and crumpled electronica give way to an off-kilter guitar gloss whilst Aaron’s vocal croons, deliberately wayward, within the mix. It’s skew-whiff brilliance, nostalgic, hypnotic and perfectly odd. And it works for me.

Apparently, King Casio and L.A. Salami were due to go on tour together this year but that’s looking increasingly unlikely now because of Covid. A shame but I’ll certainly be looking forward to those random meetings in Southend when the restrictions relax. 

 

Kritters – Maybe you’re right

There are some days when I review the material of an act that I’m keen to feature on Sonic Breakfast and I’m struck by the sparseness; I’m stuck by their minimalism. These are acts that use one word answers in their press releases when truly more will do. They have no stories with which to support their music and convey a nonchalant disinterest about anything they have created. Perhaps the downplay is a deliberate ploy but it doesn’t half make it a challenge to write a blogpost about them.

Kritters are not one of those acts.

In fact, in the space of a couple of months, Kirini and Rob, the ‘blisteringly fast’ duo who form Kritters have produced so much that the challenge is knowing where to edit. This is a blog post that could run and run and they’ve only just begun. Imagine you’re in your favourite restaurant and the food is as exquisite as ever but you’re getting no break between the courses. With three fab electro pop singles released since February, all with elaborate videos to accompany, this is truly an act with a mission. 

 

There’s a method to the madness.“, say Kritters when we chat by E-mail about the frantic nature. “It’s also driven by the knowledge that we have so many songs on deck: Kirini has essentially written the next four albums (and still going!) so we do what we can to stay on top of it.

You suspect that Kirini and Rob are the sort of people who have hundreds of ideas before breakfast, who are just used to working at pace. I ask them, because I’m genuinely interested how they fit it all in. “In terms of spare time: because we have quite fluid day jobs (we are both private tutors, working mainly online these days) we use every spare second for art.“, they tell me. “And for us art is a very wide net: in addition to making music, Kirini is a visual artist, primarily working in paint but also ceramics and digital collage, and now, too, videos in service of Kritters. This past year she’s also been writing a novel, which will probably take another year to finish. As for Rob, in 2020 he released an album with his last band Stornoway (he was their drummer for 11 years) and so this past year has been all about developing as a producer, something with which he had no experience other than watching the pros in recording studios.

I initially approach the duo, currently based in New York, after hearing the second single taken from their forthcoming EP, It’s A Trap. Maybe you’re right is a grower, a banger and an ode about wanting to escape from self-imposed isolation. It’s easy to see how such a song resonated with me during this lockdown. I ask the pair how the last year has been and repeat their answer in full because it has such power. 

We live in the South Bronx – the Bronx is a borough of NYC which sits just above Manhattan, separated from it by the Bronx river. The South Bronx is a great area, with the energy of city life but at a slightly slower pace to Manhattan; really everyone should be familiar with it because it’s the birthplace of hip hop. It’s also poor and chronically underserved by city and state government, so our neighborhood was particularly hard hit during Covid: at one point this past year we hosted a nurse who had come all the way from Arizona to help out in the local hospital. It’s tough to really put a finger on what, exactly, we will take away from this pandemic year. It’s been desperately sad and completely strange: Trump, needless death, people swept into poverty. But also remarkably positive: the BLM protests, neighbors looking out for each other, and Biden’s election which also saw the election of Ritchie Torres, who is young and progressive, as our district’s representative in Congress. And for us personally the global pause coincided with Kirini beginning to write music, which she’d always planned on doing, and for once there was little else interfering. So, yes: the highs were high and the lows were underground, but we have hope.

 

Since Maybe you’re right, I’ve listened to (and thoroughly enjoyed watching) further releases from Kritters. It’s a Test has a stunning video bringing eight canonical artworks to life, reimagining the women subjects as empowered and not empty vessels for the egos of male artists. The song itself is about trimming our personalities, holding our breath and curtailing our own lives – imposing our own limits to avoid scaring people away. Send me away is a dense and frenzied foray exploring the relationship between anger and insanity; both are blooming fine exponents of the creative and intellectual force that’s fizzing at full flow right now. 

Few would predict against the brightest of future for the irrepressible and effervescent Kritters. Take your seat for a wild ride. 

 

Hagar Levy – I Will Never Know

Hagar Levy sounds like she’s not in a good place in her relationship. In a re-release of ‘I Will Never Know’, taken from her debut album to celebrate its 5 year anniversary, we find her questioning the validity of her relationship. I hope for her sake that she’s still not in that relationship five years on – or at the very least that she now knows who her partner was speaking with on the phone when she arrived home. 

 

It strikes me that Hagar’s intuition is probably spot-on and that her partner is up to no good. If they clam up and don’t want to talk about it then they’ve got skeletons in the cupboard that they shouldn’t be keeping secret in any meaningful relationship. But that’s my naturally suspicious mind at play. It is of course entirely feasible that Hagar’s loving partner was organising a surprise birthday party for her and didn’t want to let on. 

Getting the balance between trusting another and trusting your own instinct is surely at the heart of any successful relationship.

We’re due an update on the relationship status and perhaps Hagar has been honing her neo-soul output this year to provide one. “2021 has been good so far,”, she says when we exchange e-mails. “I’m recording new material and taking my time with new projects. I really hope it will be a good year!!” – there are rumours that this could include putting music to some poems by Emily Dickinson and William Blake. 

I take the chance to ask Hagar, an artist living in Tel-Aviv, about the current Covid situation in Israel. We hear so much about it here in the UK where we’ve taken similar approaches to rapid vaccination. “Yes, Israel is seemingly getting back to some normalcy!“, she says. “Seemingly because the political instability is very grave, but we are out and about, meeting each other, going to restaurants and starting to go to shows…so the vaccines are good i suppose but generally everything is…unclear and unstable :/ But it’s seemingly like that everywhere!!

Hagar is seemingly fond of the word ‘seemingly’. We will never know. All might not be as obvious as it looks if you don’t scratch a little beneath the surface. Taking things at face value might not always be your best option. There are no clear and distinct conclusions to draw from today’s post, save for the song that Sonic Breakfast brings you is a strong one. Of that, there is no question.

Derek Simpson – Kid The Moon & U-Turn

Pete and Joanne are at it again – or rather Pete is at it again. In an exclusive, Sonic Breakfast has intercepted another letter that Pete has crafted and sent to Joanne. The last one was published here. We can’t reveal our sources and we can’t even confirm if Joanne is receiving them. She’s certainly not showing interest in responding. Here Pete tells Joanne about Long Beach bedroom-pop wunderkind, Derek Simpson.

 

Dear Joanne,

I hope you’re well? It’s been so long since we’ve spoken. It would be lovely to hear from you if only to know that you’re safe in these tough times. I heard a song the other day by an artist I’d never heard of before. I thought it might be new to you as well. Kid The Moon by Derek Simpson reminds me so much of our time together. You’ll see why if you give it a play.

I guess it was the long-distance that really did for us, Joanne? Maybe, if we’d have met in the last year when much more meaningful conversation has passed through zoom, we’d have fared better? But, back then, we were early adopters of unpredictable Skype connections. I’d stay awake to have a moonlit conversation with you. Sometimes, in the morning we’d talk just as I was emerging from my dreams and you were entering into them. Oh, that difference in time zone – we’d often joke that we were kidding the moon.

I remember the playful distant moments fondly. You’d lie on your bed and curl up encouraging me to ‘big spoon’ behind you. I had to look up what you meant. And I’d dance weirdly in front of my camera. I’d sway and gyrate, move my arms like Morrissey, all to make you smile. It was great to hear your laugh over the ether. I’d cling to those moments until the next time we’d kid the moon. 

Derek has captured those calls to a tee. It’s almost like he was there though he’s not lost touch with his lovely friend. Oh Joanne, I wish we were still talking. “We still keep in regular contact even with time-zone differences and countries between us,“, says Derek. “I hope this song can stay with them throughout their lifetime as a reminder of just how lovely it is to get to know them.”. I wish that was true for you and I Joanne. 

My enduring love, 

Pete.

PS – Derek has moved on from the hallucinatory, gentle funk of Kid The Moon to release a new track, U-Turn, just a few days ago. It’s another one for us, Joanne. You remember how I’d play some King Tubby whilst we’d hold each other tight at the festival campsite? Or I’d blast out some dub whilst we cuddled up on the sofa? This recalls those moments for me. I hope you enjoy. 

 

Jesse Brady – Transformations

I’m not one for standing still. Every few months, I’ll look back and check that I’m in a slightly different place to the one that I remember. Our time is short and I don’t want to blink and miss it. I don’t want life to pass me by or to wake up in twenty years with regret for what I haven’t achieved. I’ve taken wrong paths along the way and reached a few dead ends that I’ve had to turn around from. I’m glad about those diversions though; it’s not always about taking the ‘right’ road, rather it’s about ensuring that you’re at least taking a road. Curiosity is not going to kill this cat but stagnation will.

Jesse Brady, an emerging singer-songwriter from Nashville, is likely on the same page as me. She’s only young but that hasn’t stopped her from spotting in her debut single, ‘Transformations’, that change is pretty inevitable and is a thing to pin hopes upon. “It’s a song about change, hope, remote-control cars, and taking one step at a time.“, says Jesse in the press release to the tune.

It’s a jolly, upbeat singalong of a pop tune but it has a word of warning hidden within. Life can pass you by if you let it. I ask Jesse what’s been transformative about 2021 so far for her. “It’s been a year of growth and learning to trust my gut.“, she says. “I’ve also learned to reach out to friends more, and my faith in God has grown deeper. I’m releasing my second song on April 23rd, called “Happiness Block”. I’m so grateful for everyone who’s listened to “Transformations” and is supporting me. Despite the separation and isolation that covid has caused, sharing my music has provided a connection to others, and a sense of community and belonging.

Jesse self-produced the fab video to ‘Transformations’ all by herself. The quirky animations provide a fine fit for the song and puts her stake in the ground as a talented all-rounder. It’s not in your face but it does all exude a quiet confidence. “Music is my favorite outlet, the one that makes the most sense, and the one where I truly feel like myself.“, says Jesse.

We’ll be sure to check back in a few months to see how she has developed. 

 

SheBeat – Believe

There are songs that are open to misinterpretation; it’s always a bit gutting when I publish a piece on Sonic Breakfast and the artist comes back to me saying something like ‘that’s an interesting way to the think about the tune’. I worry that it’s a polite way of saying that I’ve completely missed the point. I guess for some songs in which meaning is deliberately hazy and the songwriter is specialising in the opaque this is no bad thing. But I tend to shy away from those pieces. Say what you feel innit. 

There can be little doubt what SheBeat is looking to convey in recent release, Believe. Jodie Schofield, aka SheBeat, moved to Edinburgh from Liverpool in October 2020 and is grabbing the bull by the horns as best she can in her new home city. Believe is a jaunty, less than two minute, fabulous twee-folk shuffle about “taking life by the love handles and making your best (lockdown) life happen.” Jodie credits her Dad as the inspiration behind the tune. “He always tells me to believe in myself and it’s a really empowering simple message I want to share… and remind myself of!“, she says. 

So relevant is Believe for these strange Covid times that you could be forgiven for thinking that Jodie wrote it in recent months. And yet it’s been part of her repertoire since 2014. Jodie tells me that she can’t wait to play it live in Edinburgh, something that she’s not yet been able to do because of lockdown life. But before that, Jodie has some more pressing delights to attend to. 

I’m believing in my brand new niece Lottie who arrived in the world this very week“, says Jodie. “I’m so excited to be an Aunt and can’t wait to meet her once lockdown worries are over!

Sonic Breakfast thinks this is all undeniably positive. Have a truly uplifting Easter Saturday. 

 

Sleep Walking Animals – Aengus’ Fool

Regular readers of Sonic Breakfast will recall that I’m not one for ceremony; on Valentine’s Day when other blogs were featuring tracks about glorious love, I was being contrary and ignoring the day’s existence. I’ll do the same this Easter weekend. You’re unlikely to find a song about bunnies, crucifixion or eggs in these parts (though a song featuring all three would surely pique my interest). 

I’m in a conciliatory mood today though. The long weekend and the four days away from my day job are dampening my cantankerous spirit so I’ll make a slight concession and feature a great song this Good Friday that has the word ‘good’ flowing through it like a stick of rock. “Love looks good on you“, sing the Sleep Walking Animals on their indie folk track, ‘Aengus’ Fool’, originally released on Valentine’s Day. 

 

It’s a cracking track and really marks Sleep Walking Animals out as ones to look out for when live gigging resumes. A tour is tentatively planned for October. The vocal harmonies in Aengus’ Fool build and fall over the shuffling, broken march of the drums to produce something both relentlessly modern and vigorously vintage. There’s a slightly, sinister edge running throughout as well, an approach explained by Jack from the band when we exchange E- mails. 

We released Aengus’ Fool on valentines day because it’s a confession of infatuation and desire.“, he says. “And although the song is about love (it was inspired by Irish Mythology – Aengus is the god of love) it has darker undertones. I think we wanted to subvert the usual sickly expectations of valentines day.

I’m onboard with that. Jack also mentions that Sleep Walking Animals have another single, Wild Folk, out right now. “If you want something more current it might be worth reviewing that as well/instead.“, he suggests. I take a listen and there’s no denying it’s quality. 

But I think I’ll stick with my contrary, original plan and just feature Aengus’ Fool. Have a good Easter weekend one and all.