making time for new music (writing)
in which our author embarks on a new project of writing about music again
Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a music writer. I say kid because I am now very much an adult (literally if not spiritually) but I’m talking about the 2000’s, my teen years, when music was pretty much the only thing I cared about. for a few years I had a job of sorts – a regularly occurring responsibility, but without any financial renumeration – writing record reviews for a few different indie magazines. I was signed up to record label street teams too so would get sent promo CDs in the post with press releases and sometimes stickers or posters, of both bands I’d never heard of and ones I deeply loved. I remember getting a promo EP out of the blue for a completely unknown London based band called Razorlight which I promptly became obsessed with, and having to prove my love/knowledge of Mogwai in order to get an early review copy of The Hawk is Howling. I also got to interview bands over the phone, awkwardly holding a cassette Dictaphone up to the earpiece of my parents’ plastic chorded landline. Back then I felt like William Miller with dreams of being Lester Bangs.
Slowly, the places I was writing for started vanishing. as I remember it now, it was the dying days of NME and print music journalism in general, at least that’s what everyone was saying at the time. It was however also the boom of pitchfork and blogging and all that stuff, which was amazing for someone who loved music and music writing, but no-one was paying for words anymore. I was no longer a kid living the dream of seeing my words in print and getting free records, but someone with bills to pay. music journalism wasn’t the only thing changing at the time, music consumption itself began to morph and evolve. One of the last big pieces I remember writing was an assignment where I was asked to review a new platform for music lovers that was in beta testing called Spotify.
After uni my writing interest pivoted to books, but I never fully moved away from music. I ended up becoming a music photographer instead. there was still little money to be made in it but there was some, and by that point I had a job and was just happy that I got to go to shows for free and practice my craft of photography. Now, a few more years, and a global pandemic, down the line I am no longer shooting live music or writing about music. The most I get up to is sharing records on my Instagram stories and imploring pals to listen to stuff that I’m excited about. But that’s changing now.
For the last few years, I’ve been making a playlist of music that I have discovered or been obsessed with throughout the year so that I can look back on the musical journey my life has taken. This year I feel like sharing the playlist as I go. aside from a few close pals who always seem to take me up on my recommendations, I never really get to talk about music with people anymore. It used to be a daily part of my life when I lived in a city with a vibrant music scene and all my pals were in bands, but not so much these days. So, while what follows is a rundown/review of music I’m hyped about now, I hope some of you will see it as a conversation starter. I’d love to hear your recommendations, listen to your favourite artists, explore together.
Next month won’t have such a lengthy introduction I promise.
january’s playlist
January started kinda weirdly music wise. after most of December days being cafe Christmas jazz for ten hours a day (I control the music in the bookshop when I’m working), Spotify started recommended me artists similar to one of my favourite discoveries in recent years Cicada. That’s how I found Yasushi Yoshida and his magnificent record Heavenly Me Last Days which is a bold bright joyful combination of jazz, classical, and alt-pop musicality. It is one of those records that builds slowly from delicate piano lines with a sombre atmosphere, layered with emotive string arrangements that genuinely feels cinematic into this explosive, triumphant, joyous sound that feels like the sun is coming out from behind a cloud, like the whole town is running down the street in celebration of something. It’s the perfect soundtrack to bring you out of the cold of December, even if only spiritually, and I challenge you not to feel like you could take on the world by the end of Heavenly Me.
Through the fans also like bit on Spotify I found Lullabies for Falling Empires and Sunlight Ascending who are both incredible instrumental post rock, the former with more of an orchestral flavour that the latter who work more in the vein of Foxing or The World is a Beautiful Place’s musical pallet. Sunlight Ascending’s 2010 record You Don’t Belong Here is a genuine banger and (though I always recommend this strongly for every record) one I insist deserves listening from front to back as it moves you through the seasons.
Continuing the theme, January has been a great month for discovering minimalist, instrumental, soundscapey music which is honestly one of my all-time favourite kinds. The first discovery, Lisa Nordström, has taken up so much of my attention this month because her most recent work, a series of four records Moon, Void, Midnight, and Snow are of one project that spans nine hours. As much as I would like to try, I feel I cannot do justice to this project within this already long newsletter; it is simply too much, in both scope and experience, in the best way. Nordström is such a gifted composer this movement of records could score a beautiful movie, add ambience to the lobby of an elegant hotel, and whisk you away to another land through the little speakers in your headphones. It works on every level, both as background furniture music, and rewards close and attentive listening. I am obsessed. My favourite of the four at the moment is Snow, the song Castor is in the monthly playlist.
Switching gears now, in one of my last dooms scrolls before I blocked Instagram on my phone, I stumbled on a video by the next band saying they were touring with Franz Ferdinand (a firm favourite of my years spent in indie clubs getting drunk underage) so I had to take a listen. I stopped everything and loaded up the album Freak Scene by Pacifica. From the opening notes of first track Change Your Mind I was transported back to the summer of 2007. Pacifica have perfectly resurrected the college radio alt rock, indie sleaze era aesthetic. There are musical touch points to The Strokes, Sleater Kinney, White Stripes, it’s bluesy, it’s punky, it’s urgent, and above all, it’s fun. It was really strange to listen to this brand-new band and hear a thousand influences from bands that were big when I was a kid, but that is the nature of music and what makes it so wonderful. I reckon this band will be huge pretty soon.
I am trying to stop myself writing in detail about all the stuff on my playlist for January so I will end here with perhaps my favourite discovery in a long, long time. Other Life. Other Life are a Korean band with a kind of post-rock-jazz-fusion-neo-soul vibe. They have less that 60 monthly listeners on Spotify and yet the algorithm recommended them to me on my app homepage. From the opening track of their record 2020-2022 you’re greeted by this driving drum rhythm which kind of reminded me of Kashmir that builds with lightly distorted guitars and a frenetic synth line that reaches a peak and stops dead. What directly follows is a piano and scat vocal led piece that builds up momentum before dissolving into a psychedelic dream scape halfway through only to then hit the ground again with a crash of drums and cymbals, the guitar and synths intertwining with one another. Not even two tracks in and Other Life were showing me they cannot be pinned into anything, they’re gonna move wherever and however they like. This is one of those records that I knew right away would be with me for life. The midpoint, A song for grief, is one of the most beautiful songs where every note from every instrument is perfectly, delicately placed to give Youngmi Kim’s gorgeous, jazzy voice the space to hit you in the feelings. It’s a perfect record honestly. Perfect. I put Isolate on the playlist as I think it’s the one track that perhaps comes closest to distilling the entire project into one song but again, I must implore you to listen to 2020-2022 from start to finish. It' is a journey worth making time for.
My 2025 playlist as it stands so far is below. I’ll keep adding to it each month and I aim to write another of these round-up reviews at the end of each month too. Follow along if you want to find some new music.
Until next time,
– NUCOSI