Ashwarya’s references read rich with names like SZA, Travis, Kanye and MIA but to my ears its Rosalia that bears the strongest influence on her debut record. There’re the vocals which have that ghostly coolness to them but there’s also a hint of Rosalía’s essential castanet sounds and the capacity to move between English and another language. In Ashwarya’s case however, that language is Hindi rather than Spanish and that mobility to glide from one tongue to another makes for versatile listening. Also it reminds me of what a common pleb I am, commanding just one argot and not even a good one.

I came across her first proper release this week, a track called Biryani which strangely appears to be exclusively on Unearthed which is why you’re exposed to that truly aesthetic player below. When I asked about the track, they told me that this was just a demo and that they’d planned to ‘record and release it properly‘ but I mess with that perfectionist attitude so we’re gonna allow it. The way she switches from verse to chorus with a little BPM changeup reminiscent of Paul Walker on the gearstick is something to behold, gently whistling with appreciation and that voice is pure chiffron. It’s early days and the pop game isn’t a short one but Ashwarya is laying all the right foundations with single one.

I live by the same code as esteemed fisherman John West. The fish that John West rejects? Those are what make him the best. I’ve looked that clam digger square in his dead eyes and stole his catch phrase damn near word for word. ‘The songs that Sound Doc rejects are what make Sound Doc the best’. And let me tell ya, I reject a lot. Any asshole can keep up to speed with every new release, that doesn’t impress anyone. Picking just good gear out of that, that’s the service your boi offers. So even though a dude like Genesus Owusu is covered to death, he’s in all the playlists, he’s written about on every local music news website and he’s not that usual deepcut energy, I had to get him in here. This record is simply too good to reject.

For those aren’t yet across the Genesis Owusu backstory, I shan’t be sharing it to you because you should damn well know better. Here’s the song.

Another week, another song about ritualistic castration. I don’t know what everyone’s been swilling in 2020 but it seems that the only thing that any reputable songwriter wants to talk about is the emancipation of your basilisk. The most recent outfit to throw their hat in the ring is the appropriately named Eunuchs, a Sydney outfit who’re making an extremely obvious play for Spotify’s ‘Castration Anthems’ playlist. What sets this sonofabitch apart from the millions of songs written about the same subject matter is not just the splintering vocals that duck through varying agressions like a weavers shuttle… it’s the credits on this thing. Check it:

Danny Heifetz – Drums
Kristo Langker – Percussion and Grunts
Alex Paterson – Violin
Catherine Jang – Violin
Caitlin Duncombe – Viola + Assistant Producing
Tom Williams – Cello
Hamish Gulick – Double Bass
Suzy Sparrow – Piccolo
Lewis Pastars – Tuba
Paolo Franks – Bass Trombone

It’s a heavily orchestrated punk record boasting everything from piccolo to tuba and the arrangement is WILD. It’s the sort of record that’ll make you extremely stressed and uncomfortable and sure, not a great sell to the background listener but this IS what I want of heavy music. We’ve just become so mired in the predictable tropes of heavy music after decades of it that when we hear a bone wrenching gutteral growl with sadistic lyrics we think ‘hmmmm, that was good deathcore’ rather than actually feeling anything. So you’ll forgive me if I’m taken by this weird, gross record that makes me recoil a little.

 
Ok I know what you’re thinking; it’s ol’ tommy faith, writing up another Lonelyspeck parallel-project because Sione’s involved. If we’re being real about it (and we always are) I jumped when I saw the lonelyspeck moniker attached to the song. Had to hear it for the obvious reasons but then I also had to wonder which producer had coaxed Sione into a sonic association… what did they have to offer that’d caught the Lobelyspeck ear. The answer is… so much. Explosive, lacerating blasts of percussion, pulverized to a messy pulp and distorted into thickened waves. Arrangements that leave the requisite space for Lonelyspeck’s vocals but also fill the adjoining areas with chaotic stabs of… guitar? Is that what’s been processed here? I think it might be. Reportedly there’s also ney flute and sartoor on this track but I don’t have the ears to pull them out individually. Ultimately the whole thing is turbulent and lawless, flailing about like a hose with the pressure raised far too high, spraying cold wet onto everyone within reach.

It’s electronic music done right, neurotic and explosive but without any typifying tropes to over-signpost how it’s meant to feel. And then Lonespeck… the perfect vocal for this. Thin, delicate and an ideal counterpoint to the madness of Cheekbone’s cacophony.

I should probably offer a little context around Cheekbone because though we’re not admittedly at his very first release, we’re certainly very early on in what’s hopefully a noteworthy career of work… he’s an Australian born Iranian-Canadian based in Far North Queensland and as soon as this single graced the pages of triplejunearthed.com, I knew he was a real one. He slid the next single under my study door and let me tell you, it’s worth getting on board now because this is bullet train energy. See ya.

I promised myself I’d write more on this world wide website and the only way I’m gonna make that happen is via stream of consciousness immediacy – putting the words on the page before I can think too hard about them. In this instance it’s a semi-valid format for a song that’s similarly immediate. It’s got the energy and agression of oldschool hardcore, a compressed metallic breakbeat and the depressed swagger of modern hip-hop. It’s a rolled up tracksuit leg at your cousin’s mate’s cousin’s bush doof, accessorized with glowsticks and a spiked necklace. Freak aren’t dressed for comfort and the aesthetic isn’t uniform but somehow it’s cohesive. They’re a duo made up Perth beatmaker slash vocalist Max Black and Perth otherguy Seul and though I don’t know who’s doing what, I know that they’re doing it right. I got the chance to spin it on the radio this afternoon and lemme tell you, it filled the half hour with energy I had no idea I was missing. This goes.

Does this project have legs? I don’t know, I hope so. They’re key members of Perth’s Tuff Boys crew so seeing the two come together on a project hasn’t shaken me to my core, but I didn’t suspect it’d sound like this. Into it.