Round-up Tracks: Purity Ring, Waxahatchee & More

Having lived up to the hype on their hugely anticipated debut album ‘Shrines’ Purity Ring are now back to prove it wasn’t all a fluke with their sophomore effort, with an official release announcement accompanied by second single ‘Begin Again’. Fans of the Canadian duo may not be entirely shocked by what ‘Begin Again’ has to offer, largely picking up where much of ‘Shrines’ left off. While there’s an often insatiable clamour for constant reinvention in music it’s great to see Purity Ring persevering with the sparse, spine-tingling electro that was such a hit the first time around.

‘Begin Again’ continues in the Purity Ring tradition, melding atmospheric, imposing synths with Megan James’ ethereal, syrupy vocals. The result of this is an enthralling, dark, slice of synth-pop, which it’s impossible not to be swept up in. Purity Ring’s latest doesn’t represent a radical departure from the majority of ‘Shrines’, giving those who missed the boat the first time around a second chance to be swept up in the majesty and mystery of an act who are fast becoming one of the most exciting electronic acts around.

Following from 2013’s gorgeous ‘Cerulean Salt’, Waxahatchee has been releasing bits and pieces from her new record ‘Ivy Tripp’, scheduled for release on April 7th. ‘Air’, somewhat appropriately, has a breathy but intense vocal; simultaneously battle-ready and dismissive. The instrumentation is sparse; even with military snares and overdriven, slinking guitars, the production is set up for Katie Crutchfield’s brutal, timid honesty.

Sharp, pointed verses make way for an almost uplifting chorus, encapsulating the bizarre ambiguity and directionless nature of early 20-something relationships. It’s a step into the dark after ‘Cerulean Salt’, where the Breeders-esque vocal harmonies and keyboards from tracks like ‘Peace and Quiet’ once dominated. The chorus is a master-class in space and minimalism. “You are patiently giving me every answer as I roam free,” Crutchfield sings, exploring a story of contrasting commitment, an overriding narrative of having a solution and ignoring it. This is a stunning song, which marks a step up within Crutchfield’s already stellar, and growing, catalogue.

It’s with ‘Fly’, a collaboration with Malik Shakur, that Raury’s made his biggest splash in the arena of social commentary. Written in the aftermath of the Darren Wilson decision, the outrage and anger is distilled into almost a whisper, a solemn cry for sanity: “And in the rising of the sun, hope you remember me with positivity, ‘cause there’s a target on my back, time’s only wasting”. That line alone is a perfect distillation of the bizarre and horrendous situation in the U.S., the “rising of the sun” as an indication of the regularity of these horrific incidences, and “a target on my back” encapsulating the fear and the nonsensical justification for indiscriminate violence by authority on young black people in America.

If the bleak, unequal reality were different, Raury could use his unique talents to create an altogether more peaceful, beautiful narrative. He does that too; you can argue that with absolute certainty. But, as with everything, with the rising of the sun, horrific injustices are met head-on with important art, with steadfast denial of the status-quo - with voices that say “enough”. Raury ends ‘Fly’ with important wishes for his hypothetical son, praying for a different world, hoping his child doesn’t become a hashtag. It’s a sentiment that’s important as anything you’ll hear in music this year.

‘First Light’ struts into earshot with a shuddering bass line; one that gives the impression of a record that’ll draw heavily on dance music influences, in particular the industrial, machine driven branches of house and techno that have formed part of Dave MacLean’s own imprint Kick & Clap. But taking on its true form, ‘First Light’ emerges as something that offers much more, an almost psychedelic offering of shimmering vocals, airy synthesizers and ear catching live percussion that’s given a real sense of groove by a bass line that had previously shaken its opening bars.

On ‘First Light’ Django Django in fact shine in a new light, searching beyond and beneath a concrete landscape of post-industrial consumerism, and conjuring quite striking imagery in a search for enlightenment. Its own exterior ditches the more hectic elements that studded the quirky Django shell and made them so invigorating first time round It gives way to a sound that’s assured, sleek and totally brimming with potential.

Oscar Scheller has been plying his trade as a lo-fi bedroom auteur for the past two years now, though you wouldn’t guess it upon hearing new track ‘Daffodil Days’. Though the title is a result of a happy accident, Oscar’s shift from bedroom sweetheart to potential indie-pop hit-maker is not. Oscar’s music has been characterised so far by his witty, sorrowful observations and his baritone vocals, both of which are still present here with his new track.

However, the discerning factor on why ‘Daffodil Days’ stands out is that with age, Scheller has realised there’s good in poking fun at himself, while pushing himself into the mould of a serious melody-maker. Rather than throwing carnations around, Oscar now basks in a field full of spring’s favourite flower, smelling the scents of a bright summer to come.

Trust Fund revealed the first taster of debut album ‘No-one’s coming for us’ at the tail end of 2014 in the form of the blistering ‘Cut me out’. Morsel number two arrived this week with the quieter, more reflective cut ‘Essay to write’. The track revolves around Ellis Jones’ chorus-drenched guitar line that swaps ‘Cut me out’’s crunch for wooziness, dreaming fondly of the end of exam period, when lives will be sorted and problems solved.

‘Essay to write’ shows Trust Fund at their most explorative, and demonstrates their evolution from the beginning. From Jones and a four-track, to a collective built of interchanging multi-talented friends, Trust Fund take on many styles and guises throughout ‘No-one’s coming for us’. Jones’ lyrics might blur into obscurity during verses full of reverb, but when they’re exposed in the latter half of the track, they’re delivered with such youthful naivety that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright after that final exam.

Tags: Purity Ring, Waxahatchee, Listen, Features