The new Valar song dropped yesterday to rapturous internet applause. Wait nope, the internet is an idiot and it didn’t even realise. That bloody internet, you know!? The band gently tapped me on the shoulder.

“Psssst. Tommy”.

“Yes?” I asked?

“Guess what we’ve got for you?” Go on guess.”

“Is it… the gift of caring for each other?”

“Nope, not that! We love that though! But it’s… diversity. We’ve all got all this diversity to show you!”

And so they did. They showed me all their diversity which isn’t any sort of code for their bits and pieces but the simplest way of saying that they’re going to put out an EP real soon that going to be a stylistic mixbag. A real “licorice allsorts” sort of affair. I’m really keen for this one. The three piece come five piece are making tunes that demand a greater audience than they currently receive so please please please take the time to hit go on the below player. This is the step forward in songwriting that I’ve been personally hoping Valar would take for some time and it’s gratifying to see them striding out of comfort zone and into a sharper space. Structurally impressive but also nice to see Blackwood’s vocals put to the test on a technical level when in the past we’ve seen drum and bass parts pushing boundaries but rarely risks taken vocally. And with explorative sounds come explorative ideas, with the two tracks we’ve heard demonstrating a direct line of conceptuality that moves from star to asteroid belt to dark space.

WordPress is trying to to tell me that both conceptuality and explorative aren’t real words. I don’t mind making up words in my posts as long as I know that I’m making up words. Give it a rest wordpress.

If you’re in Sydney and you’d like to catch them live they’re playing a small show with Tin Sparrow and Charlie Gordon via The Smallest Gig.

The mental pendulum has has been in motion for quite some time as I’ve thought upon the Hiatus set I caught the other night in support of Thundercat. It’s kind of testament to the strength of what I saw that I’ve not really thought twice about Thundercat since, all resources assigned to that little ol’ support set. I’ve dichotomised the live set and the recordings for some reason and I just can’t stop wondering which is stronger. At the show I kept thinking ‘ohhhh right, this is what they’re about’ but then I put on their records and suddenly this moment is better than the first. I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t need to be relative and what I’m trying to say is that as a holistic act, Hiatus Kaiyote are worth committing to entirely, fully, indefinitely.

Sunday night was one of the best live sets I’ve seen in years. You’ve probably already seen them live and I’m preaching to the choir but at it’s earliest incarnation, Sound Doctrine was just a platform for me to punt my current tunes through your aural goal posts for guaranteed cred points and uhhhh… sports metaphors etc. That’s why I have to post this; because I really, really love it and nothing more. I’ve touched on Hiatus colláborateurs in posts about Kirkis and Silent Jay but I guess I’d kind of suspected you were all over Hiatus themselves and that may be the case. But if you’re not then this is my gift to you. I don’t pretend that I’m putting you in the know ahead of time here since this is a crew backed by the likes of Questlove and Badu themselves but that’s no matter, you and I aren’t about all that, right? Of course we aren’t.

I found myself leaning into my desktop as I listened to Andromeda, the first track from Laurence’s debut record William, Andromeda (though not the first song by that name we’ve shared together). I found myself leaning inward because the vocals have been levelled quite low and they’re delivered in an entirely vulnerable, quivering hush. It’s quite captivating even if it’s forced me to have my volume screamingly high and the bleeps and blips pulsing out of my office are likely doing our office junior’s head in, but that’s my divinely attributed right as a top-dog big-budget cash-money mega-hyphenated business-type. My high roller status appears heavily at odds with a record this grounded in humility though, so for the purposes of aural relationship I’m going to drop the pretense and recognise this for the rich and resonant expression that it is. Thematically it’s about the struggles involved in maintaining a relationship with someone suffering from mental illness and that content is lyrically present and underscored by a subtlety of sound and a serious attention to detail across the various soundscapes on the record. The layering and the mixed down vocals remind me a lot of Youth Lagoon’s Year of Hibernation. I’ve chosen two tracks to get you started but I really, really think you should listen to the whole record rather than these singular cuts.

Remember Silent Jay? You damn well should, I only posted it about a day ago you fat idiot. That was unfair, sorry. It’s been a long day + you’ve lost weight. Silent Jay was the cat I posted about at the end of April. Featured on one of his tracks was a man who goes by the name of Kirkis. Very little else is known about him, even within his closest circle of friends and extended family. He’s the enigma, shrouded in a cloak of secrets, walking on a bassline of mystery. I’ve done some sleuthing though and I’ll share with you what little I know. Kirkis was born in the small city of Mytishchi, deep in the heart of Soviet Russia. After subsisting primarily on used breadcrusts and found vermin, Kirkis fancied he could eke out a living in the big city so he ventured forth with his family to Moscow where, after opening a caricature stand, the family’s prospects began to look up. Sadly, democracy and liberalism weren’t features of the 70s socialist soviet and so the family’s short lived success came crashing down as a young Kirkis delved into the prohibited world of illicit groove. Found guilty of dealing in the binary rythms of the gypsy communes, Kirkis was sentenced to twelve years hard labour in Siberia but somewhere along the way the young jazzhound managed to elude his captors and jump a ship to Australia. Now residing in Melbourne, Kirkis writes songs that speak of love and loss, of a family left behind and a nation that groaned under the weight of an oppressive regime. His wandering basslines speak deeply of geographical displacement and the ludicrously pleasurable rhodes lines within his freeform arrangements point toward bigger truths and profound wonders.

If you’re lucky enough to be attending the Thundercat show at Oxford Art Factory in a few weeks side you’ll see the man perform prior to Hiayayus Coyote and Thundercat. Should be a treat for synth starved ears.

I’m going to place these before you largely without comment. Actually you know I’m not going to be able to help myself, without a LOT of comment. Two new tracks from Oscar that are mouthwateringly good and are pretty indicative of the direction he’s heading. I think his strength lies in his constant evolution and we’re seeing the mid-to-end stage of his most recent metamorphosis. I’m rather glad to be able to share with you a talent as prodigious as this man so it’s hard for me to avoid gushing out something overly weighty and pregnant with praise. I’ll simply say that there’s a bright future for any individual who can drop tracks like these on a whim. The first is a slow building beast that speaks volumes about Oscar’s attention to production while the second is a cover of Miguel’s Sure Thing that doesn’t deviate too far from the original. The key lesson learned here though, is that the guy has a set of pipes on him. We always knew he could knock up a legitimate beat but this is a hell of a vocal showing. For those interested to see how this translates live then your time is nigh, come see him headline at FBI Social on Thursday, 30th May.