Listen: Hey Mel by Rye Milligan

Rye Milligan is a songwriter and producer, currently working in London as an independent artist. Milligan had previously garnered attention from Spotify and BBC Radio One as the guitarist and co-songwriter in band Luna Bay, but this new project sees him take centre stage.

Hailing from Cardigan Bay, Wales, Milligan’s sound has the kind of earthy-yet-dreamy-eyed sound that feels wrapped up in the experience of moving from a small place to the big city. Together with fellow Cardigan Bay musician, friend and drummer Ceri Bain, Rye Milligan is making a uniquely British kind of music – little touches of echo and reverb shadowing the likes of Bloc Party, The xx, and Blood Orange.

Following on from debut EP _i_, Hey Mel is the first track to be released from follow-up EP _ii_, and the song is intended to be ‘a love letter of reassurance’:

“There’s someone very close to me who often doesn’t feel like they are enough. This song is basically me saying, of course you are and this is why. It’s a lot easier for me to talk openly about my feelings through songwriting, that seems to be the best way to tap into my head. I appreciate that can be both daunting and sometimes, I hope, rewarding for the people who know me best.”

It’s a heartwarming piece of music, the humanity on display in Milligan’s performance, and, in particular, his vocal, is inspiring. There is a spoken verse in the song’s second half that gives me goosebumps, “I could write a book about you, on everything that makes me laugh (…) It’s you who makes this concrete jungle safe, as we navigate the cracks, and you who makes my stomach summersault more than backstage when I hear them clap.” The lyricism on display is beautiful precisely because it feels so earnest and honest.

Watch: Space Jumps by Memory Of Jane

Memory Of Jane is the work of British/French producer and multi-instrumentalist, Mailë Doremus-Cook. Following the release of an EP, In The Double, earlier this year, Memory Of Jane has been likened to The xx and James Blake, though I think Metronomy is another apt comparison.

On Space Jumps, Doremus-Cook is exploring his sense of alienation, of growing up in rural France before moving to London in his late teens, not quite feeling at home in either place.

The song features production from Oli Bryson, and it finds space for Doremus-Cook’s muted and deadpan vocal delivery, even among sharp drums and layers of bass and guitar. The song has a warm, yet maudlin feel to it, and it feels appropriate for the onset of autumn. Check it out below:

Listen: Turn Up The Colour by EtaCas

The debut single from Oxford, UK, based duo EtaCas, Turn Up The Colour starts with a restrained synth-pop verse. Gentle synths introduce Jefferson Duke’s echo-treated vocals, as a steady drum beat and gleaming guitars underline the melody.

It isin the song’s chorus that the dream-like qualities really come to life, though, EtaCas seemingly obeying the instructions in their latest song’s title. With composition and synths handled by Rob Reng, he launches into the chorus with a beautiful synth melodies, as Duke’s vocal really begins to soar.

The way the Oxford-based duo channel a gleaming vision of electronic pop reminds me very much of the way Cut Copy took so much inspiration from Fleetwood Mac on their similarly neon-tinged, excellent sophomore album In Ghost Colours. There is a futurist-like optimism here, on Turn Up The Colour, with a dash of rave-y desire to connect and love. Describing the song, the duo say:

“Turn up the Colour is a song for all the hopeless romantics who feel the full euphoria of meeting someone new. At a music festival, these two people find each other, journey through the colour, trip the light fantastic and fly higher than the stars.”

Watch: Literally Everything by Brimheim

Dealing in brutal honesty, authenticity, and self-loathing, Literally Everything is the new single from Danish-Faroese artist Brimheim. It follows up on her 2022 debut album, Can’t Hate Myself Into A Different Shape, and teases her planned sophomore album.

The person behind Brimheim is Copenhagen-based singer-songwriter Helena Heinesen Rebensdorff, whose stage name references her Faroese roots, translating to “home of the breaking waves”.

Literally Everything is a heart-wrenching piece of electronic pop, taking a dash of the experimental aesthetics of Caroline Polachek, then applying them to the melodic drama of Kate Bush, and the darkness of PJ Harvey. Here on her latest single, Brimheim’s vocal sits in line with the song’s melodies, sliding between the song’s soft, muted instrumentation. Atmospheric drums and deep bass tones provide the song with just a touch of reassuring certainty, even whilst the vocals tell a different story:

”Throughout my life, I've behaved in a lot of self-destructive ways, attempting to fill this deep, barren void inside of me with everything from drugs to self-harm. But more than anything else, I’ve had to reckon with an unquenchable desire for other people’s approval and adoration, both as a human being and as an artist. That’s what 'Literally Everything' is about – the overwhelming impulse to sacrifice everything, including my self-respect, in exchange for a moment of admiration.”

Check out the music video for Literally Everything, shot on the Faroe Islands by Faroese artist Heiðrikur á Heygum, below:

Listen: Middle Class Alcoholic by Bruce James

Bruce James is the work of American musician Michael Bartlett. Originally from Washington DC but now in Raleigh, NC, Bartlett began making music as young as 11, after getting a guitar and a copy of (music production software) Cakewalk for his birthday.

Bartlett became the chief sound engineer at the Black Cat venue in DC, but ultimately felt it wasn’t his calling, questioning his own abilities and, ultimately, choosing to move on. In talking to him, Michael is open about his self-doubt, and the fact he wrestles with imposter syndrome.

In Bruce James, Bartlett has a different kind of outlet. Typically, he works alone, with his guitar and equipment, maybe hauled up in a hotel room. And whilst he may struggle with a sense of self-doubt, he states that the one thing he is confident of is his own sound. The uniqueness of Bartlett’s musical voice, means that he doesn’t see his sound as being directly derived from anyone. Based on Middle Class Alcoholic, I’m inclined to agree.

As a song, Middle Class Alcoholic has a textured, slightly folksy aesthetic, but whilst the production techniques are subtle, there is actually a significant amount of purposeful detail here. The song’s first half sits on a crisp drum beat, Bartlett’s initial haunted-sounding vocal gradually joined by processed vocal harmonies and synth melodies. In the song’s second half, the percussion melts into a clattering drum solo, guitar work picking out a beautiful melody as the song reaches its climax. The result is impressive – definitely not derivative, but I find myself pleasantly reminded of Kurt Vile, and The Long Winters.

Talking about the song, Bartlett found himself reflecting on a podcast he once heard, regarding alcoholism:

“(The podcast) defined (a) middle class alcoholic as someone who doesn't drink to excess but drinks every day, and it's harder to NOT have a drink than to have that one beer. Which I felt really defined me for a long time. I still drink, but not every day.”

I’m intrigued by the creativity clearly on display by Bruce James, coupled with his candour and vulnerability, and can’t wait to hear more.