Listen: When I Grace Yr Mantelpiece by Jill Blutt

Shimmering with an 80s soft-focus aesthetic, Jill Blutt’s new single, When I Grace Yr Mantelpiece, is the third and final single to be taken from a forthcoming EP.

With the EP’s first single receiving exposure on Spotify’s Fresh Finds and Fresh Finds Indie playlists, When I Grace Yr Mantelpiece is poised to create further momentum for Blutt’s EP. Spectral vocals feel otherworldly, floating transparently against cools synths and crunchy percussion. The song acts as a plea for success, with unashamedly honest lyrics that ask, ‘please, please make me famous, or I might, quite possibly, die’.

Despite the thematic transparency, When I Grace Yr Mantelpiece has a layered depth to it. The production and instrumentation here creates a dream-like sense of possibility — like waking up and not being quite sure if the glimpsed thrill of success was real or a dream. The song’s bridge, at the one-and-a-half-minute-mark, is particularly wonderful — a lightly textured moment where the bass drops away to reveal Blutt more fully, navigating a maze of ambition.

Listen: Uru Buru by HLLLYH

Having returned just last month with the first release in more than a decade and a half, HLLLYH are back with another song, Uru Buru. The phoenix to the messy electronic punk flames that were The Mae Shi, HLLLYH are gearing up for their forthcoming album, which is both opened by and (sort of) shares its name with this latest song.

Kicking off the album, entitled URUBURU, Uru Buru establishes some of the themes that run through the album. The album’s core focus is featured heavily here, with the release centred on the concept of being trapped in vicious cycles. The song builds towards a crescendo, as the band sing about the twisted shape of Klein jars and the repeated patterns of humanity. We learn and re-learn the same lessons over and over, twisting in on ourselves, and even the song’s title is repeating itself, in the form of a palindrome.

Politics has never felt more stuck in an endless cycle than it has right now. We see moments of inclusivity and liberalism, followed by periods of retreat and isolation. Both states are responses to what preceded them, yet there appears to be no way to establish a steady state of progress. Instead, so much human effort is spent on the latitudinal shift, vs longitudinal progress.

Whilst Dead Clade was one of the new album’s oldest songs, dating back to the days of the Mae Shi, Uru Buru is one of the newest songs on the new album. Here it comes backed with the b-side Cherry Blossom Color Season, a cover of a song from the frankly insane Katamari Damacy video game series. Katamari Damacy has been in my life a fair amount recently, as my son has developed an affection for the weirdness of game designer Keita Takahashi’s eclectic and creative games, especially Wattam. Katamari has also recently made a rather joyous reappearance in the form of the Apple Arcade game, Katamari Damacy Rolling LIVE, which adds modern social media parlance to the game in a way that feels deeply ironic and delightful. For the record, Katamari Damacy is the most HLLLYH video game, and Cherry Blossom Color Season is delightful unhinged. Check out Uru Buru below.

Listen: Drowning by Sean Ross

And now for something wholly different.

Recently, I have been awash with emotive, shoegazey indie and experimental art-punk. At the same time, the UK has been undergoing something of a spring teaser, with temperatures just about reaching 20 degrees Celsius, and almost every day seeing clear blue skies and sun.

It no doubt won’t last but, right now, Sean Ross’ slice of dubby, soulful electronic tech-house hits perfectly. Drowning hints at sunny days and warm nights, bouncing bass providing the perfect soundtrack for sneakers sliding across dance floors and hands reaching into the air. Having taken a seven-year break from solo work, Drowning represents the debut single for South London producer Sean Ross.

Ross combines crisp, clear synth washes with garage-influenced percussion to make something modern and unmistakably British, even whilst it channels dreams of the Mediterranean. Looped vocals, deep in the mix, only add to the heady, hot sense of yearning. Describing the process of creating Drowning, Ross says:

‘This is one of the first tracks I produced when I decided I wanted to start releasing again. Listening through to the other tracks I have in the vault for this year, ‘Drowning’ is an eclectic mix of all of them, and it really helped me develop my sound. I thought it was only right to release this one first and show my workings.’

Listen: Lassos And Lasers by LB Beistad

Born and raised in rural East Tennessee, LB Beistad led a somewhat isolated childhood. That changed at age 10, however, once her family purchased a computer. Music had been a passion from a young age, but the limitless nature of the internet enabled her to fall fully into new worlds, full of experimentation and varied genres.

Lassos And Lasers sits in a dream space as, somewhere between the cowboys and aliens, Beistad’s vocals gently float in the uncertainty that she, and we all, inhabit at times. ‘Don’t you worry about me, and I won’t worry about you’, Beistad sings, in a way that suggests it is more an ambition than a definitive instruction. She continues with the foreboding ‘I’ll keep my lassos and lasers, I’ll shoot you first and tie you down’. Deeply atmospheric, you can sense the dread and nostalgia bubbling beneath the surface, before Beistad opens herself up, ripping off the bandaid in the song’s closing third and acknowledging her vulnerability.

With the negative consequences of modern technology all too visible these days, it is easy to forget just what a force the internet and phones can be for connection… The very thing they were originally designed to facilitate. Lassos And Lasers feels like it channels that need for connection, and LB Beistad still loves her family computer.

Listen: Biking Standing by Avery Friedman

Having appeared on BlackPlastic.co.uk back in January with her tribute to change and evolution, Flowers Fell, Brooklyn musician Avery Friedman has just unveiled her debut album, New Thing.

Taken from New Thing, Biking Standing is a slow and contemplative piece that resonates with a sense of nostalgia and reflection. Inspired by her struggles with insomnia, Avery describes flashbacks and memories. Describing a bike ride, she sings, ‘I was biking, I was standing, riding up the hill,’ before going on to hint at a deeper connection, ‘July nighttime, they played country, I stood and danced with you’. Avery paints a soft, vulnerable picture of human connection, the potential of romance on the tips of her fingers, as she gently plays guitar.

The song was created in response to Friedman’s experience at a country music show, prompting her to write a song with a simple C to G chord progression. Whilst both the song and the lyrics have a quiet sense to them, Friedman still manages to land a sucker punch of a chorus, as she eases into the song’s gently heart-breaking hook, ‘Don’t you worry about me… I can sleep in my dreams’.

Check out Biking Standing below, and look for New Thing, out now via Audio Antihero.