Listen: Alive - Casual

Arriving on a psychedelic cosmic rainbow hooked onto what sounds like a life support machine, Alive enters like a rebirth and a resuscitation. It crunches and crackles - fresh brass jostling against rolling bass to create something that feels like an overly excitable crowd losing themselves in the moment… and oh, how I miss crowds. Alive feels like being free again.

Casual’s sound reminds me of Jungle, who they cite as influences… there is an obvious commercial appeal here, yet it is mixed with an authenticity. They blend hip-hop stylings with the indie-dance vibes of MGMT, falsetto vocal harmonies playfully bouncing along with the melody. The feeling I’m left with is one of fresh sneakers squeaking enthusiastically on polished floorboards, of feeling good in your new favourite outfit, of sweating with people whose sweat you like.

Casual are Amsterdam-based duo ReauBeau and Rico Dean and they feel destined for success, particularly with fans that include Edith Bowman (sample quote: “There's nothing casual about that. It is HUGE and it's currently on repeat in my house.”)

So yep… Feel Alive, and check it out below:

Listen: Move - Jodie Nicholson

I recently found time to watch Luca Guadagnino’s movie A Bigger Splash. As I mention in my review of the movie on Letterboxd, the film conveys the brutal, dramatic electricity that occurs when the general predictability of human interaction and behaviour disintegrates to leave just the id. I found the movie thrilling in the way it feels like things are constantly on the verge of falling apart.

As a piece of music, British artist Jodie Nicholson’s Move simmers with a similar sense brooding intensity. Opening with chords that slowly increase in volume as Nicholson delivers hushed vocals, Move always feels like a track that as much about the spaces between the sound as the sound itself. Much like A Bigger Splash, Move never quite tips over into the sheer chaos it threatens. Despite that, it always manages to feel so much bigger than it actually is. The economy is wonderful - this is a piece of music that has the intensity of techno and disco, yet it never has to break its cover beyond a canter. It doesn’t need to, because the strength and gravity is implied by its gait.

Move was produced remotely during the coronavirus lockdown by Tim Bran, who has also worked with London Grammar, Birdy, Halsey and Aurora. Here he has helped Nicholson create something beautiful and subtle and mesmerising. Describing the song’s creation, Jodie says:

”On the surface, its message is typical of a generic pop song, but as the track evolved in its creation, Move has become a powerful symbol for taking a feeling and running with it. It’s been an organic, impulse-driven song from the get-go and in many ways feels like an awakening. I never thought that my first time working with a producer would be during a global pandemic. Working remotely with Tim was fascinating. As I recorded vocals, he controlled my computer from the other end of the country, and we streamed the audio from both sides so we could listen together in real-time. It was honestly mind-blowing. I feel very grateful for current technology and Tim’s knowledge.”

Check out Move below:

Listen: Tired - Emily James

21-year-old New York native musician Emily James has today unveiled her new single Tired.

With the aim of helping everyone that may now be having a difficult time, Emily says of the release:

“I hope Tired can provide comfort to someone, letting them know that it's okay to not be okay, and they're not alone in the way they're feeling.”

Having written music since she was ten years old, James started releasing her work into the world four years ago. Taking inspiration from some of the world’s biggest artists, including Bob Dylan, Fleetwood Mac and Adele, James is clearly shooting for music that delivers melodically and yet has an emotional seriousness to it.

That aspiration feels jusitified in Tired. The soft production work here calls to mind Rumours and Tusk era Mac, but updated with a modern pop sensibility in the form of the lo-fi kick-drum-led percussion and synth work. That combination feels rich, steeped in emotion and feeling… James’ gorgeous vocal skips atop the sumptuous production whilst creating a sense of contrast with the melodic synth bass line that appears in the chorus.

I found myself wanting to reach for headphones and the ‘skip back’ button so I could really appreciate the detail in Emily James’ performance of Tired. Check it out below:

Listen: Wonder - Vania

Vania has previously appeared on BlackPlastic back in 2018 when she featured on Du Tonc’s In My Mind. On Wonder, Vania is back but this time on her own.

Wrapped in layers of cold-sounding synths, Wonder carries itself with a sense of dramatic, industrial alienation. The song is an exploration of a sense of nostalgia Vania feels for her time spent at an eating disorder treatment centre:

“It was a few years into my recovery and I was frustrated with my progress. I craved the false sense of power that being ill gave me and all I wanted was to return to the place where I’d had the complete care and attention of the people around me. I was worried that this topic would be triggering for myself and for others, but I take comfort in knowing that, rather than resorting to old behaviors, I chose to mourn through my music.”

You can really feel the sense of growth and determination and vulnerability comes through in Vania’s performance, which is both strong and delicate.

Wonder was co-produced with Elliot Jacobson, who has worked with Ingrid Michaelson, Elle King and Vérité. Check it out below:

Watch: Deja Vu - Frank Ivy

Coming from Bay Area indie-electro songwriter and producer Frank Ivy, Deja Vu opens with a video slowly following a man into a shop to purchase a drink. We are 20% through the experience and have been confronted with our COVID age, in the form of a shop worked in a face mask, before the melody actually kicks in.

When it does happen however, it’s worth it. Deja Vu has a dreamy, disorientated sound. There is a glossy, sun-kissed West Coast feel here, evidenced in Ivy’s highly processed vocal delivery, but it also feels distinctively mediterranean. Synth melodies drop like heavy acetate as woozy psychedelic chords play out, the music wrapping in on itself. Deja Vu sounds like Frank Ocean fronting a Tame Impala track, and that’s a sound I can get behind.

Musically, Ivy typically starts his writing process with an instrumental melody before crafting lyrics, which in turn further refine and shape the melody. It’s a circular process that in some ways feels appropriate for a song called Deja Vu. The lyrics here are deliberately ambiguous, and it lends the song more of a feeling than a thought. I find myself enjoying existing in the space, without knowing exactly what that space is.