I did a cursory search of earlier articles to see if I’d previously written about Dolorres. He’s had a trio of heaters in the form of ‘Heelys’, ‘IQ’ and his debut single ‘Fluffy Dice’ which features a 14 second feature from Agung Mango and a video showcasing hotboxing of the highest order. A shame, it appears I never got around to writing any of the three tracks up and that’s a stain I’ll have to wear for years to come. I’ve earned my fate.

Single three is called ‘D.T.R’, abbreviated for ‘define the relationship’. Centered around the universal disparity in the way a relationship is perceived by the people apart of it, the lyrics run through the litany of internal insecurities one might have about putting it all on the table. It’s built around an acoustic guitar loop which, I think, he had already hinted an affection for in the Fluffy Dice outro, but it’s layered up with warm bass, shakers, synths and tomtoms and anvil-heavy piano. The vocal production is gorgeous as hell, ranging from raw recording to fully delivered autotune across the tracks five and a half minutes. While we’re here, can we talk about duration? He’s heading towards with six minute mark with this record with an outro that goes for over a minute long. It’s a stark contrast to the streaming savvy tactics of The Kid Laroi whose recent drop ‘Stay’ is a snappy 2:20, clearly with a mind of eliciting repeat listens. DoloRRes evidently wants none of that, no discounts applied, he’s demanding full fare. Pay the man.

Born in Rome, he’s one of the few Melbourne music types currently celebrating the Azzuri EURO victory who I’ll accept it from. Lot of bandwagon jumping going on from cats who reckon Chiesa is the first of his name. Cross your fingers that Melbourne stays open for at least a while longer so that you might get the chance to see this one come off live, in line with an EP coming next month. I’ve never seen a proper DoloRRes set but I did get a glimpse of him as Agung Mango’s tour DJ on the Genesis Owusu shows, during which he jumped up for plenty more than button pushing and it was molto bene (Italian for ‘five stars’, trust me).

We’ve a penchant for trying to reduce the identity of an artist to one palatable line, something marketing friendly that can sum up a brand neatly and cleanly. Whether it’s queer pop, a regional band making psychedelia or my own personal brand as a digitally irrelevant post-tumblr blog idiot, we love to find easy cover alls and they’re rarely accurate. Except the post-tumblr bit, that’s largely correct. When it comes to ZAN, they’re fundamentally intersectional with layers of identity that don’t peel off individually. I’d love to simply say they’re a Perth artist, but they grew up in Tsukaba Japan before moving to Australia. More recently they’ve been spending time between Melbourne [Naarm], Perth [Boorloo], Lahore, LA and Haripur.

Their songs, the fruit of influences such as Bollywood, Sufi pop songs, Hindustani and Pakistani music and modern neo-soul (likely among others), are beautiful and haunting, none more so than brand new single ‘Tu’. While they’ve an EP behind them already, this song is an elevation. I hear everything from Twigs to Anohni, James Blake to The Weekend, sung in Urdu-Hindi. It’s Zan’s vocal that’ll bury you within seconds. I spent my first listen trying to navigate what elements of their vocal were synthetically modulated and which were just the natural quaver of their voice. In the end, it doesn’t matter in the slightest because however they arrived at this moment, they certainly arrived. We’d do well to note at this point that the track self-produced yet still sounds like this. Dwell on that.

The music video is compiled of found family footage and snippets of their father’s family travels and gatherings and worth watching so as this record hits just right…

One of my favourite phenomenons over the the last decade, often within hip-hop, has been artists tearing asunder the expectations of how a vocal should sound. Sure, your 33 year old cousin Allan is still going on about how mumble rap isn’t real rap but Allan’s a deadbeat who wears his wallet connected to his belt by a carabiner. I don’t care how many wall’s he’s been climbing, that shit’s not on. And before you get all up around me, yes, textured vocals aren’t a brand new thing, Bob Dylan was singing like a he’d swallowed a possum in 1902 so stay in your lane, I don’t want to hear it. Some of my recent faves have been singing and messing with their vocals in all sortsa wonderful ways, like Meat Computer with his breathy exhalations or 645AR who many wrote off as a joke before they realized he was just way ahead of the pack.

L0NE has some of what you’ll hear in the above but also a lil microdose of Travis Scott too, just for that cushion comfort to ease you in. I’d love to hear the production go just a little bit more effed up, but it’s still gravy cos those 808s hit right, the chords are warm and the vocals are just chef’s kiss. He’s part of a click down in Melbourne that seemingly includes another futurist hyper-pop slash rap synthersizer called Webby whom I tend to get around. Can’t get many words about him from the internet so far but let these visuals tell you what you need to know.

In my not so humble opinion, Matahara has a supremely bright future ahead of her. I’ll admit that it took a few singles for me to really jump aboard the train. I thought ‘What A Waste’ was pleasant, ‘Missify’ was really lovely but this ‘Alas, Alas’, this is the one you need to hear from the Melbourne songwriter. The 21 year old Indonesian-Australian grew up in Jakarta before moving to Melbourne as a fifteen year old. You’ll hear the remnants of that dislocation filtering through the lyrics of this song, sad droplets that have evidently hung in the air for years since.

‘I want you around full time
Stepping on the same ground
Next minute, you’re flying out
Well, I never really said it
I know, I’m not quite sure you know
Just come close, closer again’

It’s a breathy, minimal song that’s light on it’s feet, faintly delivered like early Clairo or Soccer Mommy and hopefully sees her on the same elevating train tracks as those two. Something about the way the guitars drop smoothly into the chorus has such impact, I legitimately want to lie down every time I hear it. What does that even mean? We just don’t know. What I can say with certainty is that it’s a song that moves me. Let’s have a listen why don’t we.

If you’re thinking that there’s something just the faintest bit familiar about the production then perhaps you’re a Sound Doc loyalist (God bless you) and you’ve recognized the fingerprints of Michael Vince Moin, also known as Tram Cops who has graced the pages of Sound Doctrine magazine time and time again. He recorded this EP with Matahara in his bedroom and put the production touches on it. As the tendrils of vocal wrap around each other at the end of the track, you can especially here those blips and beeps we know Tram Cops loves to put in his own records filtering through. And look, we’re not here to talk about it but it’s worth making mention that mister Tram Cops has a brand new project himself, called Ctrl + Me which is worth keeping your ears around.

I can’t express to you how badly I needed Tim Zen to bless my 2021 with this song. I’m willing to consider that this 16 year old may have birthed my favourite release of the year so far, a song that makes no attempt at streaming or radio accessibility. This kid evidently has no respect for comfort or laurels (Ever seen him resting on them!? Hell no!) cause this bumpy, choppy mess is unapologetic and wonderful.

Take a fistful of Jai Paul’s buried vocal and strange sidechains and pound it into Tune-Yards chaotic percussive parts and you’ve mashed yourself a third the way towards this track. Melbourne teenager Tim Zen was on one when he put this together, though here are two unsolicited criticisms. One, why’d he go and wrap this thing up nigh on two minutes? You owe me another minute and you best believe I plan to collect – get recording. Secondly, there’s a bass arpeggio at 1 minute 30 that he does only once which was very cool. I like how it sounded right in my ears, like a shadow rolling head over heels down some stairs. I’d encourage all four of you reading this to attend to that moment, it’s something. Tim, please include that sound a few times in my penalty minute, thank you. Those heavy issues aside, this is such a creative and textured record. The vocal production, the way he’s sliced his words like sashimi, the warm rounded bass kicks, the moments of ambient silence… it’s a rose amidst nettles.