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.

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.