Valar have been MIA so long that I almost feel obliged to reintroduce them but then that would be rude to the kind souls who’ve stuck with me over the other sixty or so times I’ve written about their songs but back off, this one’s a new’n. It’s called Astronaut and it’s the precursor to the forthcoming 5 track album (fine, EP) that we should see arriving in the next month or so. It unfolds, one layer at a time with old man Parsons doing his part to move things forward in his irregular yet mightily constrained way before the whole thing flattens out with Blackwood’s dulcet sweep atop a bed of harmonised howls. At that point he mentions that he’s ‘dreaming of dying on my own’. “That’s so morbid!” shouts my wife. It’s not at all though, it’s actually smothered in this pervasive contentedness that means that sort of statement isn’t scrawled in a fifteen year old’s diary but instead reclines in the mind of a greened out sherpa. I mean, in a way, aren’t we all sort of on our own? I still haven’t done my 2011 tax and I’ve never felt more so. Someone could make a loooooot of money doing other people’s tax, I’m just saying. There’s no angst and there’s no fear, just a sense of bigger picture as if you’re seeing the world from a great distance. It’s as if one’s floating in space, completing repairs on an unmanned spacecraft. Kind of like… Kind of like an astronaut, you know? Daaaaaamn.

Extra free bonus content no cost attached – It’s the video! These are the authentic faces of Valar! Shoutouts to Pete Covington whose name wasn’t mentioned in main body of text.

Remember these dudes / these songs? Of course you do. They had a lasting impression on me mostly through this really sweet honesty that they had to their lo-fi jams. Since those early days its been a tale of progress and touring as the band brought all round nice guy Tim Fitz into the equation which was never going to be a bad idea. And here we are with a new single (though in this story we’re breezing past the tracks they’ve dropped in the interim) that comes replete with an equally charming video to boot. I love these dudes.

Something about Camm’s vocal delivery that reminds me of something else, but I can’t put my finger on what, or who. That last sentence may be an all time low for me, now that I look at it. Is there anything less useful than a simile comparing something you can’t identify to something else you can’t identify? The answer is yes, any song by Jinja Safari. Around the 21 second mark is the best example of what we’re talking about with those drawn out syllables that just don’t make sense within the frame of triple J-esque pop. I keep wondering if March will ever find their way into that world populated by Ball Park music and co. I mean, by virtue of sheer melody they should. Heaven knows they can write the ass off a tune and there’s a whole bunch of energy that just won’t quit but it’s missing padding. Hold on, I said that wrong. Their songs aren’t missing padding, they just don’t have padding. Which is great. There’s a pervading sense of space in every track that’s probably the product of clipped tones and cut vocals that you just don’t seem to hear most anywhere else at the moment. Hopefully the world is ready for their jelly.

I’ll just leave this up here to the benefit of your eardrums. It’s the work of the very recently formed Telling, a duo made up of Ben Abraham and Tim Shiel aka the face that blogged a thousand ships. Which is just to say that Tim Shiel is the same Tim Shiel you should already be familiar with by virtue of what he laid down under the mantle of Faux Pa (+ Time Shield + Mixed/Remixed work with Gotye). Anyway, if you want the press release info you’ll not find it here but this tune is already much blogged about in its day long lifespan so I’m sure you’ll find more deets if you get on the ol’ hypermachine. AdamNotEve just now laced it into their top 8 tracks of the week so there’s that. It sure makes for some pretty listening though, right?

Australian doesn’t really do soul. Sure, some folk will have you believe that simply sampling a vocal cut from Otis Redding on an instrumental hip-hop track was enough to allow an entire record to be dignified ‘soul’ but I spit on that. I spit right on it and I show such opinions a fundamental degree of disrespect. Walk away, opinion, you’re not wanted here. Let’s all be real, that’s called a hook (a sampled hook, at that) and there’s not much more to it than that. Jones Jnr. Can respectably called soul. It’s not a stretch and it’s not one of many genres that they traverse (despite some strong hip-hop influence), they are indisputably making soul music.

They’re a two piece made up of Thundamentals man Morgs and Ev Jones (Rumpunch) hitting vocals. He’s pretty on point too because the combination of traditional doe eyed lyricism and crooning vocal makes for a sultry good time. On the beat end of things you’ll find a steady stream of clicks, snaps, claps and groooooove. I’ve got a feeling you’ll be hearing a whole lot more about these here gentlemen over the coming months as the Soultape eventually does the rounds. I’m surprised it hid itself from me as long as it did, the rascal. The whole thing is free right here.

This one comes striaght from the mouth of Mister Triple J Unearthed himself and it’s a woozy synthy wench with a heart of gold brah. It reminds me of that time I heard a really killer synth heavy track with a overtly funk-fueled groove. Oh wait, my bad, that’s this time! Ha! Boy is my face red. I must really be going wrong over here. I really like saying this guy’s name too. Zebra Zap. Say it. Zebra Zap. Zebra Zap. Ha! More goodtimes. Anywho, I’m really, really into it. Subsequent listens have yielded different fruits, be it a further appreciation for that piano line or just noticing the sonic space between beat and vocal. It’s not often you hear an artist use silence / noiselessness with clear intent and an superb outcome. I couldn’t tell you much about who he is or we he (they?) came from but I don’t need to. Let the music speak for itself. A free download over at Triple J Unearthed