Sulphur and molasses, museums and ice cream, reverence for the beautiful. The avant garde ballard-purveyor discusses three important albums.
These songs are honey. A sweet, continuous oozing across an uneven surface. All shapes are vague, witnessed through the soft focus of relaxation and summer lethargy, bulging asymmetrically as they outwardly pool. The guitar chords are dipped in dissonances that complicate their sentiment – streaks of hope across melancholy, drops of
In 2015, I wrote my first book. Storm Static Sleep is the first to be dedicated to the story of post-rock music, and stands as both my biggest undertaking and my greatest achievement. I spoke to several of my favourite musicians and discovered some of the strangest, most exhilarating adaptions
As I watch drummer Thomas Heather, I’m instantly reminded of a goat tumbling down a mountainside. Limbs in apparent disarray, with the rhythm – a flurry of improvisation and toppling snare delays – miraculously staying upright. Guitarist Marcus Hamblett decks the surface of the beats with a series of sunbeams, warm
I’m sharing a romantic meal with Chenaux. Alone, obviously. Perhaps at his place. The room is in crooked temperament; the lights are flickering and the dinner table is on an unsettling wonk. My food moves restlessly on my plate. Yet I’m lost in Chenaux’s voice to the
Guitar soloing is so often a demonstration of virtuosity and technical confidence, but it sounds drunk and weak-limbed under Chenaux’s command; the exaggerated wah pedal movements sound like massive bubbles ready to pop, and the vibrato makes held notes shiver like a bottom lip heralding an imminent outburst of