This morning, my guy Rich sent me a text with a link to this song that simply said “Nah this is a f–king moment”. Uncensored of course, but this is a family friendly webzine and we shan’t be allowing that language to befoul these pages. But I hit go and suddenly I was listening to the best new hip-hop song? Out of Australia? Ok then. 2:30 and this record had established itself as one of my favourites of the year, eviscerating me with thick production, flawless flow and bars in Korean. Makes more sense when you consider that this five piece Sydney crew are Korean-Australians, with everything they drop on instagram captioned in both languages. This track doesn’t showcase some slim hat-tip to their culture but a central connection, bleeding through both this and the single they’d released prior. Their first drop ‘Brr’ bangs but ‘No Caller ID’ is The One. The group’s producers pokari.sweat and Nerdie put the beat behind this one and it kicks like a mule in an earthquake. The sounds of hyper-bright laser-rays flit in and the change of MC’s each time seems to be signposted with production affectations, either adding in synths chords or deep 808 bass, such that the whole track embodies movement and it’s brief 150 seconds of life is vibrant. In spite of errything that’s going on in the beat end, the quality of this vocal mix means every line sits sharp atop this thing like crystal on the tablecloth. That’s enough similes for a few weeks now I reckon, please ingest this and let me know what you think.

Been rinsing this one the product of a new Perth partnership that’s paying better dividends then the $760 of shares that I own (purchased at $1050). Your boy sound doc is a trader baby! Nuum producer this one a couple years back while in Tokyo before giving Sakidasumi the go ahead last year to caress the chorus as she’d like. It’s the arpeggios, the angular synths and Sakidasumi’s Tatu-esque vocals that elevate this somewhere special, sending it sky high to circle above Seoul skyscrapers bathed in neon luminescence. If you’re a fan of Darcy Baylis, Lonelyspeck or Hearteyes, you’re gonna get a little something something from this. Mixing credits to the gunblade king himself Laces who’s own recently released EP is deeply worth more than a few moments of your time.

And here’s something from Sakidasumi, a compressed metallic soundcloud rap record with lo-fi prod courtesy of Lovefear. Obsessed with this vocal take, it’s icier than your nan’s second fridge.

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.

My critics, curse those bastards, have said time and time again that Sound Doc has too many words and not enough songs so here are no more than a few about Grace Sanders, Perth songwriter and producer. The song is called Dissipate and it moves in three parts, a gently strummed acoustic opening, a SZA-esque middle section and an emphatic autotuned section over a trip-hop beat. Part three is where you’ll get the most meat on the bone and even though you’ve no patience for my text, I’d encourage you not to rush the song. Let it unfold around you, slowly and intentionally, thick with melodies that become more memorable each time she repeats them. It’s artfully produced by Ezekial Padmanabhan whom I don’t know much about but would now very much like to. I’ve come back to it many times over these past few weeks developing favourite and least favourite lyrics (butterfly lyric bad, grain of sand lyric good). Anywho, I said brevity and you’ll have brevity. Imbibe this song.