Two thousand fourteen is a big year for Sound Doodles. Not even going to be, it already is. It’s the year that I brought on a PR team to make sure that I maximize business exposure opportunities. You know the drill, kissing babies, donating hospital wings etc. They’ve also given me several brand alignment opportunities which sounds strange now but will make sense when you see my logo on Smiggle pencil cases and medical equipment. It’s all good stuff. Anyway, best of all, I’ve been trying to manually change my taste to get down with what the kids are listening to these days which means I should probably discuss this Yon Yonson character, not to be confused with twitter troll John Johnsonson who also promises to have a big 2014. YonYon is actually more than one fella though. In fact pretty much twice as many people as you may have first thought make up the act and the pair of them have been emitting some diverse substances for years now and I’m even going to risk a defamation case and suggest that their tunes lead me to believe believe they’ve also been consuming some diverse substances over the past few years too.

A few EPs, a mixtape, lots of back-cat for you to involve yourself in but not now friends. That’s for later. Right now we’re just listening to the new record and we’re all feeling pretty good about it huh? Pretty darn good. Whether you heard them for the first time in JC’s new music column today (inc. one of the most raw summaries of domestic single you’ll read in 2014) or you’ve been across them via multiple POA pieces or any number of other checkpoints along the way, this batch of songs will probably be surprising to you. Nothing overly embellished, it’s just that YonYon are an unexpected pair, but I doubt a directionless pair. I know you probably weren’t expecting to hear much musicality within a post that references John Johnsonson but I think there’s a case to be made for YonYon being a legitimate source. The progression from meditative piano moments to a track featuring the shoutiest man in Sydney (Simo Soo) is impossibly an accident. Someone needs to make a supercut of this beast wherein the songs run into each other because it’d certainly be something to hear it all as one whole without file separations.

Those are the words, here’s the song. Culver City’s my choice (because bloody hell, so good) and I’m going to run with a song about wine as my in-post B-Side. Get at it, there’s basslines awaiting. The record is a name-your-price purchase via banddcamp.

OH GOSH, WE’RE GOING FOR THREE HERE. WHEN THE BEAT COMES IN POST MID-TRACK SAMPLE, WHAT EVEN IS LIFE?

Look at that, it’s already the sixth of January. While you were busy spending the last six days downloading torrents of Pitchfork’s year end best records, you already broke most of those resolutions that you made at midnight last Tuesday, when the hope of the new year was still ahead of you.

It may seem that this all doom and gloom, the truth is that we aren’t pessimists here at the Sound Doctor Blog. Actually the motto here in the office at Sound Documents is “whatever the opposite of pessimistic is, that’s us”. With that in mind, now is the time to drag your eyes off the scales and lay them down here, because we have something for you.

You see in the manic rush to get the hell out of digusting old 2013, a few bits of aural gold went right under the radar. Can you blame us for that? Well, you probably can actually, but we want to say sorry, we are here to right the wrongs.

One of those that slipped by was a new record from Melbourne’s Chris Bolton – aka Seagull. Ocean From Above dropped in October on Two Bright Lakes with a minimum of fanfare and fuss, and spent the ensuing months creeping up into our ears. To be completely fair, this record is really more of an aural diamond than the aforementioned gold. Forged at high pressure and extreme heat around 140km into the earth’s mantle and then appearing beautiful, bright and sparkling in the light of the day. Ocean From Above is quintessential Seagull, building on the framework of 2009′s Council Tree it is a loping, pulsing work which ebbs and flows with the tide.

As ever he does, Old Man Bolton has complemented his record with some beautiful visuals. The middle of December saw this video for ‘Original Shape’ released: Slow and elegant as the same passing of days it portrays, as ghostly gulls hover in and out of the shot. The track underplays its hand, staid guitar lines lie under Bolton’s wandering prosaic melodies as other worldly voices and synths hover persistently above drawing you to the close.

Buy the record, buy them all, because this is the perfect soundtrack with which to face up to the year ahead. As always, I end this with the ever present reminder that if you don’t enjoy this music, then you’re doing it wrong.

I was recently faced with the confronting truth that bedroom-based beats producers are not the only individuals creating music in Australia. There is a lot to be said for rediscovering various ways to make a Roland 808 Drum-Machine sound interesting, but apparently some humans still enjoy playing instruments in the vicinity of other humans. Historically speaking (and I got this from a book), these ensembles have become known as ‘bands’. Revier are just such a group. With their debut EP in tow, they’ve been ‘making some noise’ on the Sydney scene recently, supporting certain ‘it’ bands and playing at various ‘hip’ venues. They are bringing to the table what some critics have called ‘music’ and some punters have called ‘a dreamy frontman’.

Let’s talk influences: the conversational falsetto is very Buckley, the impression that the singer is toying with the notes around the melody is very Buckley. The songs are reflective, relational and downcast, with Morrisey’s earnestness of expression but without his unmediated misery. I understand the knee-jerk outcry that could result from making these comparisons; but I don’t want to deify artists to the point where stylistic links can’t be drawn. Clearly it isn’t enough to simply emulate the greats (after all, the general public didn’t give Matt Corby much attention until he took a step away from Jeff Buckley and revealed more of himself with ‘Brother’). In Revier’s case, the lyrical content is a strong point, with enough specificity and interesting word choice to establish Jack Froggat’s storytelling voice as distinct and personal. There is possibly a bit of a luddite rockism inherant in the sound [Read: they play guitars], but it is nice to hear a band that isn’t obsessed with synthesisers.

If you’re looking for huge bangerz, this EP is not your jam. It is probably best to find a time when you can sit for a moment and listen straight through a few tracks, to take you on the journey. For a taste though, here’s the single ‘Coins On Your Eyes’. It’s a sonically rich tune and good representation of the direction they’ve taken on this EP.

In a packed-out live show I recently witnessed, the tightness of the arrangements allowed for some really visceral musical moments. Some of these hard-hitting moments have been somewhat lost in the reverb-infused sound of the EP (presumably a production decision, some people may prefer the result). But I think the one of the most exciting things about this band is that sense of potential that comes with youth (through sleuthing and phone-tapping I was able to discover that the average age in the band is 19.75). It will be interesting to see how Revier develop their own voice, and whether or not they’re to become a presence on the Australian scene.