‘We’ve been away for a bit. Call it what you will – compassionate leave, or whatever else – but it felt good to escape the internet, if only for a brief while. Don’t get me wrong – I find music to be the best method of utmost escapism, though there comes a point at which another extraneous tweet re: Random Access Memories accompanied by a panoramic iPhone shot taken from the apex of The Shard may just prick your rage, tip you over the edge and condemn you to the murky dregs of madness. I was getting there on Monday, although here to allow for all the irritation to ebb away pacifically is Tokyo teen Left Right Arms, whose infantile vocal ambiguity recalls Jónsi on a dewy morn as xylophonic vulnerability and plush acoustic strums cocoon such sublime unintelligibility on the gently epic Outer Space. Subtly cinematic and yet simultaneously introspective, it’s the emotive denouement to his newly fashioned Bear EP and it positively soars. Almost like a certain construction down around SE1…’

‘We seem to be referencing the ever diminishing disparity between organic and electronic musics with increasing frequency, so sincerest apologies if you’ve read, and subsequently had enough of all that. I’m only too aware of the fact that it’s been heavily suffused throughout our extensive recent coverage of Brad Weber’s Pick a Piper project, and indeed our effusive praise of James Cooley’s Mesita but it makes for an exciting time for the sounds of the experimental and avant-garde realms.

And although Bristolian composer Zoon van snooK is, by his own admission, a self-professed practitioner of oddtronica he too belongs to such a school of thought, fusion and coalescence. Released this week, The Verge of Winter is the lead single to be lifted from forthcoming van snooK sophomore The Bridge Between Life & Death – a record centred around twelve field recordings immortalised in Iceland toward the wintriest end of 2009 – and it’s one which signals a turn for the Nordic in terms of the project’s general aesthetic. It features cameos from natives Amiina and Sin Fang, while proceeding single The Gaits is to come bolstered by a rework courtesy of indefatigably undefinable ensemble múm though for the time being, all attentions ought converge upon this remarkably well honed composition of rimy curiosity. For although infiltrated by the distant whirring of engaged sirens, it is so too tender and untouched by human ill – akin to freshly laid powder blanketing alpine outreach. And in fact so restrained is the piece as a cohesive whole that the sensations it evokes recall those of being caught in a blizzardy moment of undiluted awe at the natural beauty of raging snowfall. Exceptional, whether organic electronica, electronic organica or indeed oddtronica; abnormally natural or naturally abnormal.’



The Bridge Between Life & Death is anticipated May 20th via Lo Recordings.

‘Long Days? We’ve all had ‘em. If you’re working away this Good Friday you’ll doubtless be only too aware of that fact though here to haul you through are Belgian duo I will, i swear. Comprising cotton candy-soft voiced Fien Deman and multi-instrumentalist Jonathan Van Landegem, the pair find themselves at the forefront of a new tide of Belgian talent prompted by the international prominence afforded Jarri Van der Haegen’s Disco Naïveté, I don’t doubt.

They’ve a couple tracks up on Unday Records’ SoundCloud the second of which, Sleep, recalls the muted grandeur of Sigur Rós and thus harks back to Van Landegem’s previous as part of Ghent’s primary post-rock outfit Say hello to my kids as Deman’s fragile, infantile vocal wafts wistfully atop wilting keys like the blue blob that bounds across timeless lyrics on karaoke screens worldwide. “Whenever you’re not OK/ I’ve got a place to stay/ I built it just for you” she keens with utmost conviction and were we able to make shacks from songs, I’d implore this oaky piece be your lumber.



Though it’s the swelling melancholia of Long Days – think a mainland European London Grammar translated into the desolate sparsity of Mew at their most subdued – which will likely whisk your breath right away. Incomparably affecting, and all the more so for a début from an act out of a municipality more renowned for its blogs than its bands…’

‘Peeping out from behind a mesh of xylophones, organs, percussion and pianos, stands Jónsi – blinking before us. Scattered across the stage, the dim flicker of lightbulb filaments hoisted high above the band on thin stands stick flag-like in the blurred middle ground located between living room comfort and stadium spectacular. And it is under the blue orb of an ocean glow during Sæglópur that the band really quicken into swing as the crowd, still spellbound, do nothing but gaze up – mouths naturally agape – as the sound twists and contorts itself between softened piano melodies and crashing cymbals.’

Dots & Dashes review the first of Sigur Rós’ three sold out O2 Academy Brixton shows.