New Music From Splendour Act Band Of Horses Will Make You Lose Your Shit

Back when ‘rock star’ was a legitimate job description, it wasn’t even ironic – you know, like rain on your wedding day – to have someone sing about “a working class hero is something to be…” while owning several Rolls-Royce and a National Trust-listed castle in the English countryside. Now, a musician with a living income is about the most you can hope for – unless you’re Beyoncé, and putting out a multi-media album project release hinting at your marital problems.

Musicians are mostly back to being battlers – and not the sort working out how to negative-gear that third investment property in their 11-month-old baby’s name. And down even further, allowing that we’ve thankfully got rid of ‘dole-wave’ as a genre, so maybe let’s call it ‘flanno-wave’, the hopes are pitched somewhat lower. Mighty Boys want nothing more than the hopes of Dapto Dreaming (You Said You Wouldn’t Do It Anymore Records). If unaware, that refers to a suitable frayed greyhound track south of Sydney and they’re making suitably frayed yelling about hoping things get better. But there’s a couple of cans left in the slab, so all’s not completely lost. 

At another end of the making a living scale, you probably don’t own any music under Eno’s own name. But as producer, musician, atmosphere-maker, and/or spirit guide, he has built a name and a life that has made and/or improved the music of everyone he’s been involved with from his beginning with Roxy Music, through the sublime (Bowie), to the ridiculous (U2, in one of their more self-aware moments), and the even more ridiculous (as in Coldplay, for which he was hopefully handsomely rewarded). So, he can pretty much do as he pleases. Thus Fickle Sun (iii) I’m Set Free (Warp) is no mere song, it’s what he calls “sonic events in a free open space”. OK Brian, sure. But what will be to some others of us an obscure Velvet Underground cover turned into a stately piece of music passing your eyeline. Art? Yeah, maybe. Eno? Definitely. 

Sally Seltmann has been seeking new income streams as necessary as well. Recently returned to Australia after a period in the US where, among other things, she worked on an album with The Bangles’ Susannah Hoffs. Dancing In The Darkness (Three Of Hearts) is perhaps another bit of music-for-hire, as it’s the theme for a new ABC series, The Letdown. Which this isn’t. It’s suitably airy and identifiably of the artist, although whether it’s where her music is actually going remains to be seen. 

As one of their distinctive guitar intros unfurl, you kind of immediately know Casual Party (Interscope) will fit easily into the Band Of Horses canon. The lyrics here actually veer toward an almost R.E.M. cryptic quality, but the chorus is that typical good balance of wanting to listen close to what’s going on, and losing your shit as you push toward the stage. It’s oddly comforting that you know you’ll be OK in that crush, as you’re among friends. Album follows, enthusiasts happy. 

Not sure if Hideous Towns wanted the guitar sound in Don’t Forget (Lost & Lonesome) to point toward their influences quite so completely. It’s magnificently redolent of The Cure, whether they meant it to be or not. But Alana West’s voice takes it somewhere different than Robert Smith may have thought of, as the waves of it wash over you. Too catchy and self-aware to be of the shoegaze school of last century, but on a slightly darker side than being simply pop – it becomes something of its own, and good at it. 

On the other hand, the already interesting Yumi Zouma have changed their approach slightly. Once people mostly collaborating from in front of their own screens, a deliberate decision was made to move slight from their respective indie bedrooms to actually create and write together. You know, like real people. So Barricade (Matter Of Fact) (Arch Hill/Cascine), while retaining that light synth touch somehow seems a bit more certain and solid in its manner. It builds nicely, as will their sights from their New Zealand homeland. 

Buoy are after something else entirely. Maybe. There’s a modern soul hesitancy and stutter in their Clouds And Rain (October) which changes through the song, almost designed to keep you off-balance as Charmain Kingston’s voice keeps beckoning you closer then pushing you away as music keeps contradicting itself and goes from merely nervy to an almost St Vitus dancefloor. It’s certain in its uncertainness, and that keeps you inquisitive as to which way it’s going to take you, and them.

The scenery just suggest itself. We’re talking a drone or helicopter shot coming in over craggy cliffs as the waves crash in on an archetype rugged but beautiful Irish shore. Brigid Mae Power is of a folk school, but as Clearing Now (Tompkins Square) unfolds it has an almost tidal ebb and flow to it, oddly leaving spaces which sometimes can suggest what Enya might sound like if she ever woke from that dream she seems to be having continuously. And while this goes for seven-plus minutes, it won’t be rushed, but still manages to completely hold your attention for the duration.