Round-up Tracks: Micachu and the Shapes, Julia Holter & More

Micachu and the Shapes’ big draw is their ability to seem casual and crafty at the same time. There’s a see-what-sticks mentality defining their previous two LPs, and it’s a running thread through ‘Oh Baby’, the lead on new album ‘Good Sad Happy Bad’.

It’s likely that yes, Mica Levi and co. spend half their studio time messing around with new tools and rummaging around with effects, but that’s only half the story. ‘Oh Baby’ is at once gentle and abrupt. There’s a slick hook weaving its way around there, but it’s coated by hammering, clunky percussion and faint instrumentation. They’re a band of strange contradictions. On the one hand, they have everything in their power to pen straight-up pop giants. Their default mode, however, is to fuck about with fancy tricks. ‘Oh Baby’ stands neatly in the middle of these two modes - that’s a character of all their best work. (Jamie Milton)

It’s testament to a musician’s ability when, having involved themselves in a variety of different projects and creative ideas, each project defines itself, not noticeably influenced by the work they’ve done in other settings. With the prolific nature on display from the members of Primitive Parts, they personify the current thirst for creative satiation in the various different outlets they put their names to, driven only by their surrounding peers and the bare resources they work with.

With ‘Miracle Skin’, Primitive Parts immediately state the scope within which they are working. A concise, three-minute pop track that takes the sum of its sections and turns out an angular gem, they deliver with audacity, a freedom which allows for subtle hooks to really hit home.

Coarse, wiry lead-guitar is scattered all over ‘Miracle Skin”s brief length, Sauna Youth’s Lindsay Corstorphine replaces standard melodic lines for piercing variation, while Male Bonding’s Kevin Hendrick and Robin Christian control a bright, almost gentle rhythm that contains the heart of the trio’s pop refinement. The group’s dead-pan harmonies are where to find the rest, delivered with enunciated ease that drips with attitude as much as it does care-free abandonment.

The track end as it starts, the looping sound of wracked lead melody that defines the middle ground the trio have found, an indelible combination of indirect pop nous and untainted, distorted instrumentalism. With each member’s different work still favourably in mind, they’ve once again found made a definitive statement in their creative output. (Ross Jones)

It’s very distracting when a curious, already absorbing piece of music gets unveiled alongside a video containing dogs. Dogs are great. They deserve all the attention they demand. And with that, there’s a big canine draw to Julia Holter’s ‘Feel You’ video.

But behind the #dogspotting spirit is an underlying message of simple, untarnished companionship, and that’s the beauty of this lead track from Holter’s fourth record. ‘Feel You’ is up close and personal, its wall of luscious strings and rich instrumentation dizzyingly summing up the wild trip of a relationship, where everything feels bright, new and exciting. This is a song that could gallop into the distance and go for hours - instead, the dog airtime is cut short, and it’s a poignant reminder that life can a cruel sod, sometimes. (Jamie Milton)

At first its disarming to hear Liz Harris on something so… loud. Normally, after all, she’s echoey, spine-chilling, Grouper; singing about dragging dead deer up hills and so forth. With her new band, Helen, Harris turns down the bluesness, amps up the abrasion and turns a totally different shade of macabre.

Scott Simmons, Jed Bindeman of Eternal Tapestry, and a mystery back-up vocalist called Helen complete the new project, and ‘Motorcycle’ is their second release in several years. The sugary weird-pop of My Bloody Valentine comes through as a looming influence, and as Harris’ half-comprehensible, cavey vocals reverberate around taut, playful bass lines, its a strange, brief, but oddly loveable joy of a track. (El Hunt)

Ought are a group of musicians who like to build. The four-piece from Montreal, Canada have begun to make a name for themselves in constructing foundations, layering them into lengthy compositions that deal in increasingly affecting emotion, sonically and lyrically. What’s most impressive and imperative to the pleasure taken from immersing yourself in their music, is how they do everything so minimally.

Thankfully there’s no dramatic contrast in ‘Beautiful Blue Sky’, the first impression from the group’s second LP, ‘Sun Coming Down’. Fragmented guitar slowly develops within the track’s opening section, building into an almightily uplifting refrain that’s full of expectation, wonder and a hospitable intimacy in its tone. While the short, three-note build of bass remains the core throughout, the enthusiastic rush of drums push ‘Beautiful Blue Sky’ into its lengthy, extended second half. These key parts form into such grandiose climbs, yet stay rooted to the ground in fragile, almost skeletal forms.

Tim Darcy continues to merge his documents of social experiences with raw and inspiring verses. The plainly spoken delivery of “it’s all that we have, that and the big, beautiful, blue sky” arrives at the track’s peak, in a wash of instrumental effervescence where Darcy is the embodiment of intense sentiment.

With ‘Beautiful Blue Sky’, Ought once again display an ingenuity for euphoric inducing progressions, finding uplifting emotion within their continuously transforming structures. Much like their debut ‘More Than Any Other Day’, ‘Sun Coming Down’ could be a defining marker in finding the year’s most influential record. (Ross Jones)

Tags: Features, Julia Holter, Listen, Micachu