The Single Life: Lana Del Ray, The Waifs & More

It’s an ongoing challenge for most artists to find that balance between keeping things familiar enough to keep your enthusiasts on board, and making enough changes/progress to keep yourself interested - and not making the same record over and over. This is sometimes known as the ever-popular ‘I like your old stuff better than your new stuff’ conundrum.

Adding to that problem is if you’re trying to forge an identity away from a band where your name was made. Having a bet each way a couple of ways, Darren Middleton – he once of Powderfinger, if you weren’t already aware – now being the guy with his name on the marquee. Doubling his chances, the old double-A Side single concept – these days probably more prosaically known as ‘putting two tunes out at once’. One is The Lines (DZ Records/MGM), which would sit identifiably on the line from ‘Finger town, with the bonus of some gospelly choruses and a choir featuring a Wolfgramm Sister or two, and Guy Pearce furthering the musical side of his nature. Meantime, the other ‘side’, Our Road, may suggest Dazza has a quieter side, perhaps somewhere near Josh Pyke’s house in the middle of the hill. Either or both are the songs of a man who knows exactly what he is doing. 

Similarly, Albert Hammond Jr would appear to be the pop sense side of his once and future combo, The Strokes, while some others might have been trying to be the more ‘rock’ element  From the guitar intro on, Losing Touch (Vagrant) his ground is pretty clear as well. The guitar hooks are big and shiny as you’d expect, and of the type never (much) out of fashion. Which may not be quite as true of his championing of the short-sleeve red jumpsuit. OK, it’s probably 1974 somewhere. Also includes high-falutin’ reference to The Seventh Seal - playing chess with Death almost a comedy genre in itself. 

And some can just keep refining the blueprint they have made for themselves – or that others have made for them. It’s easy to keep wondering about the art or artificiality of what Lana Del Rey does. But Honeymoon (Interscope) is another of those beautifully embroided little dioramas. She is, naturally, staring off down a highway into the darkness of one of David Lynch’s lesser works, but as the synthetic strings drip, then seep, then flood in you can simply get lost in it, or choose to just look at the framework and appreciate the care taken in constructing such a perfect gingerbread castle.

Then again, some can express that kind of aching longing without some so many filigrees, balustrades, and 1962 Cadillac convertibles. Sharon Van Etten certain has the Words (Jagjaguwar) and the voice that just draws you in to listen. She can be arch or askance as working with Jack Ladder can let you, but here she is simply and directly talking to you. Song is actually the theme song to a documentary dealing with often-visiting American comedian Tig Notaro, who’s risen to become a very visible and articulate cancer advocate. And likely deserves to be sung about.

After dispersing to at least three corners of the globe, The Waifs have retained the ability to speak of distance and desire as well. There certainly not in London (still), but there’s also 6000 Miles (Jarrah) from Western Australia’s Albany  to the wilds of Utah, where Vikki Thorn now enjoys the quiet, even if she can still sing of the spirit of place she misses. The band still make what could broadly be called ‘folk music’ these days, but Nick DiDia – who’s worked with Springsteen, Pearl Jam, and the aforementioned Powderfinger before settling in the not-quite-as-isolated surrounds of Byron Bay – adds a polish suitable for radio designed for grown-ups. 

All that leads to that sometimes strange unicorn dog called ‘folktronica’. But it’s not all bad. Gordi, despite wearing that possibly crown of thorns of a genre, makes Can We Work It Out (Alfalfa) come at you with a percussive pop edge that doesn’t get bogged in trying to self-consciously be that bit ‘moderne’. There’s a strength in her voice even when asking the apparent plea of the title. It’s a song pointing to a direction that may well make her a more individual artist. You already want to know what comes next. 

More unashamedly synthesised in nature, a slight misreading of the title might suggest Voltaire Twins are tributing the main songwriter of Depeche Mode with Modern Gore (MGM). But Martin could probably be well-pleased if that was the case, as a look and sound certainly referencing the New Romantic era is increasingly having the Perth-via-Melbourne duo take some of the sometimes forced brightness from their view of pop. The beeps and mechanical fizzes are less obvious, less staged, and their music is probably the better for it.

Or you can simply tribute your idols, and end the world at the same time. Yo La Tengo’s Stuff Like That There is an often-neat mix of second thought, leftovers, remixes, and cover versions that has pleased themselves and their longterm fans of that breed of meandering guitar noise which has been there currency since that odd time past known as the ‘90s. But here, they relaxedly wave at their heroes, giving The Cure’s Friday I’m In Love (Matador) an affectionate strum and tickle behind the ears while causing the apocalypse. As you do.