Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Colour and Light - kyü

If they were characters in a sprawling nineteenth century novel, Alyx Dennison and Freya Berkhout might be described as ‘ardent spirits’. As kyü, the electronic pop project that brought them together, the pair impart a sense of limitless expansion; they’re brave enough to allow themselves to be led musically by a shared sense of epiphany, following their instincts towards a point of revelation in a way that is endearingly vulnerable, completely genuine and utterly captivating.

When they aren’t doing that, they do things like bake brownies, listen to the Spice Girls and watch Doctor Who. Alyx does convincing impersonations, and also likes to paint. Freya speaks Hindi and aspires to make film soundtracks. Both would like to travel more; both are buoyant, bright-faced, smiley-eyed and completely disarming to talk to. And then of course there’s the small fact that they’ve created one of the most exciting sounds to come out of Sydney in a very long time.

kyü came together at the beginning of 2009 as a swift consequence of the duo’s newly-fledged friendship. Alyx needed someone with a student card to enter the Sydney University band comp, and Freya volunteered. Although their initial attempt at rehearsal was “pretty awful”, a second try produced their now-signature song, ‘Sunny in Splodges’, in just a couple of hours. Realising that they didn’t have enough material, and with the band comp imminent, they wrote almost all of the material that makes up their self-titled and full-length debut release in a single creative burst, the week before the first heat. Legend has it they reduced a judge to tears the night they won the grand final.

“We never consciously made a decision to be that band” says Alyx. “We never thought ‘oh let’s be experimental’ or ‘tribal’ – all those phrases really weird us out … It really kind of evolved naturally, it was all stuff that was lying around the studio as well.” She says that the week before the band comp they felt as though they were waiting for something to start: “We refer to that period of our life as limbo.”

Plural personal pronouns are par for the course for kyü, both girls picking up each other’s sentences, filling out the other’s thoughts and chasing each other down inviting tangential trails – so that it often becomes difficult to determine who said what. The impression of a single mind at work is at times uncanny, each being the perfect foil for the other. And they don’t disagree. “We are one brain when we’re writing,” says Alyx, “it’s a strange experience.” “It’s weird though,” adds Freya, “they’re not the same – they’re so different that they just fit together.”

Although Freya has had the benefit of formal vocal training, Alyx is essentially self-taught. Each arrived at similar musical conclusions by circuitous routes of their own. Both have a solid grounding in the Western classical canon – Alyx admits to an (as yet) unrequited love for Beethoven, while Freya thinks that Mahler’s 5th Symphony has “the most amazing chord progression in the history of the world”. But they also draw inspiration from sources as diverse as Indian classical music and the soundtrack to Akira, while being rabid fans of bands like Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear.

Not that the kyü sound can be reduced to a catalogue of influences; their lush mix of electronics, synths, glockenspiel, drums and strong, startling vocals produce an almost primal alchemy. But both are quick to dismiss any accusations of derivation on the one hand, or originality on the other. “People say we’re like Björk or Fever Ray” comments Alyx, “not because we are, but because we’re girls who’re belting… We do stuff with our voices that isn’t particularly dignified or pretty – we use our voices instrumentally,” she explains, before Freya continues: “I don’t think our music is hard to listen to. Some of it isn’t middle of the road, but it’s not ‘pushing boundaries’. If we’re experimental it’s because of the way we sing – but it’s not like no one’s done it before.”

Either way, an air of timelessness pervades the kyü LP. Dan Johnston (of local folk rockers Big Smoky) drew on his filmic sound design background to lend the recording an almost cinematic sense of space. Suggesting a shifting series of emotional states rather than any conscious narrative, the music nonetheless follows a definite arc, moving from the midnight awakening of ‘Sistar’ through to the ecstatic dissolution of ego in ‘Sunny In Splodges’.

“We spent a lot of time designing the track listing,” says Freya. “I hate the word ‘journey’, but there’s a progression … It is projections from the same time. It’s all a response to the same thing in our life.” Which was? “When we met each other, a new life really did start for us,” she explains. “We were meeting new people, and just kind of finding the ropes with them and ‘our sound’ … [It was] the most amazing, crazy time.” ‘New people’ here is a euphemism for the fellas from local group Megastick Fanfare, who provided the catalyst that kyü bonded over. “They’re the reason why we started. We just decided to go to every show. We wouldn’t be making the music we’re making if we didn’t have them in our lives.”

While a Megastick collaboration is still up in the air, the girls have been open to allowing other musical cross-pollinations to occur – a stint as the guests of Parades lead to friendship and mutual remixes with Jonathan Boulet (“I don’t think anything anywhere will ever be as good” says Freya of his kyü remix, “it’s going to blow everyone’s minds”), both drawing inspiration from the local music scene. “Sydney music is amazing” declares Alyx, “the world’ll catch on soon.”

Since their victory at Manning, kyü have had a crash course in performing, refining their act and building confidence while supporting local lights, as well as opening for an increasingly high profile series of touring groups including Why?, Yeasayer and High Places. “I would like people to love it or hate it, because I don’t want anyone to feel middle of the road.” says Freya. “And I think so far we’ve had pretty good evidence of that. There are people who love us and there’s people who detest us – and we just want to send out love to those guys. We love you guys!”

With things off to a sparkling start, for kyü the future seems alight with possibility. So, what’s next? “I think things will be happier, brighter maybe,” muses Freya. “We’ve been through a lot since we met, and have evolved a lot as people and evolved a lot as musicians and songwriters. We wrote a song recently which is really different. Vocally it’ll be a bit more weird.”

“Stimulation is to be had before we do any more writing” adds Alyx. “We’ve written about everything around us, about the things that we love and the people we love and the things that we’re doing – and now we need to move on and do other things.”


First published in The Brag (Cover Feature), Iss. 381, September 27th 2010

Monday, September 27, 2010

Robert Plant - Band of Joy

Robert Plant
Band Of Joy

****

While other survivors of his generation do fun things like undergo high-profile divorces, languish in obscurity or snort their father’s ashes, Robert Plant has managed to perform that most difficult of manoeuvres over the last few decades, The Post-Mega-Success Reinvention; honouring the Led Zeppelin legacy by becoming, well, Robert Plant.

To get this one together, Plant utilised the momentum from last year’s sessions for the abortive follow up to Raising Sand – his lauded collaboration with country goddess Alison Krauss. Band Of Joy sees him resurrecting the spirit of his first group of the same name – pressing his fingerprints all over songs that come from a diverse range of sources. While the aura of the Krauss alliance hangs around the edges in a ragged shroud, Band Of Joy also recalls Led Zeppelin III – it’s a heady blend of rock, country and half a dozen varieties of folk.

There are some wicked moments here. Plant pays homage to selected sixties fellow travellers, with a leanly electric version of Richard Thompson’s ‘House of Cards’, and a deceptively easy-going rock-rendering of Townes Van Zandt’s devastating ‘Harm’s Swift Way’. Less successful is the early sixties pop of ‘You Can’t Buy My Love’, which sits uneasily alongside the cleanly pure lines and spine-itching harmonies of Low covers ‘Silver Rider’ and ‘Monkey’.

Plant has an excellent production and arranging partner in Buddy Miller, while the new ‘Band of Joy’ seems to consist of a cherry-picked best-of Americana session musicians – including a more than adequate Krauss-replacement in the form of Patty Griffin.

This is a warmly generous collection that suggests Plant’s best days are by no means behind him.


First published in The Brag, Iss. 381, September 27th 2010

Still On Form - Die! Die! Die!

There are big things stirring across the Tasman, and we’re not just talking about seismic instability and tectonic plate grindage… Although with their new album Form, Dunedin punk-pop outfit Die! Die! Die! have supplied an appropriately abrasive soundtrack for any nonchalant stroll through the wreckage of downtown Christchurch.

Although more melodious than the almost icy sonic assault of 2007’s Promises, Promises, Form is still a furious dervish of an album. Andrew Wilson builds richly layered guitars over Lachlan Anderson’s sturdy bass and Michael Prain’s unsettled yet relentless machine gun drumming. “We were throwing up names for what we were doing,” says Prain from Auckland, where the band are currently laying down some new songs in between tours of New Zealand (and the rest of the English speaking world.) “And that [‘Form’] summed up the album best in a way, keeping things really simple. If you look up the definition of ‘form’ [as a verb] it’s like a new beginning, a new start – it’s quite a blocky record, it’s simple and to the point.”

Unlike their previous two efforts, which were recorded in a matter of days, with Form the band consciously tried to allow a bit more time in the studio to see what might develop. Good friend, and The Skeptics alumnus, Nick Roughan provided a fruitful sounding board as producer. “We were never like, ‘Fuck, we want this really intense layered album,’” says Prain. “It was never super intentional. As we went along though, we were like, ‘This sounds cool, we should pursue it.’ It was sort of like one of those happy accidents – listening back, we were all a bit shocked, like, ‘this definitely doesn’t sound as nasty as we thought it would!’”

While journalists tend to throw around adjectives like ‘relentless’, ‘blast’ or ‘onslaught’ in describing the Die! Die! Die! sound (as is our wont), Prain is bemused by the hyperbole. “I think our band has always been described as being a lot more outrageous and angry than we ever intended to be. Reviews use words like ‘jack hammers’, but we’ve never been about that; when people see us it becomes apparent that it’s not like that.”

On release, Form enjoyed an entire fortnight at #19 on the official NZ chart, which Prain describes as “kind of a weird thing for us!” Playing no small part of the band’s gradual ascent into the public eye is their internationally cemented reputation for delivering live shows that leave punters dazed, sweat-drenched and plastered with big happy grins. “We want to take different angles on how we do it,” says Prain. “For our last NZ tour, we took our own PA with us and just set up in warehouses and stuff. They were really wild and fun and cool; we really like mixing it up and doing that sort of thing. It’s a lot easier and not as contrived as some other things.”

With a recent move to iconic Dunedin record label Flying Nun streamlining the operational side of things (“they’ve still got the same really good ethos about music, which we can totally relate to. It’s good to be releasing on a label that we’ve always identified with,” comments Prain), album number four or possibly a 7” single is in the oven, and tours to Australia, the US and the UK have been lined up. Die! Die! Die! seem to have their feet firmly on the accelerator. “We haven’t changed – the way people receive the band and react to it have,” says Prain. “It’s an exciting time to be doing stuff.”


First published in The Brag, Iss. 381, September 27th 2010