It’s usually about this time – middlish of the month when I’m drowning myself in new tunes – that I recall that I had an overly optimistic plan which involved actually telling you some stuff about all the random music which appeared in the last dose of Quiff. This, of course, would require me to get my shit together in some definite kind of way. I would have to stop pondering and start doing. I would require some sort of plan – I’ve vaguely heard of diaries – which would involve scheduling and reminders. Instead, what I did was get a cold and then pretend that I’d forgotten all about it for several weeks. If it helps, I’m not particularly proud of myself.
Another thing that I’m not particularly proud of is my pretence of musical knowledge. I allow silence to lead to presumption. A monthly mix magically appears but, like a panel show where all the comedians are constantly, impossibly witty , you never get to see the myriad team of unknowns who I beg, borrow and steal from or the hundred thousand outtakes which are, frankly, unlistenable.
Despite this it’s broadly my intention to keep it this way. It’s not that I enjoy the glory, it’s that I really, really enjoy the glory. Well, the extremely limited glory that comes from my worrying obsession with music.
I’m going to make an exception, however, for the all too excellent Z Tapes because Filip Zemčík is a man that actually deserves some glory. Somewhere in Bratislava one of modern music’s finest ears sits woefully unappreciated. Plus, Quiff’s have been dotted with tracks from the tapes he puts out for at least a couple of years now.
Last month’s Quiff is no exception (and neither, probably, will next months) and features a couple of great tracks from the Summer of Sad compilation he did with Swell Tones. First up is a wonderful track from Lomelda, who combine fuzzy, slack guitar noises with wistful, yearning vocals. This song is like being wrapped in cotton wool, ill-fitting and comfortable. To put it in their own words: ‘Feel something. Be patient. Get together. Take a heavy breath’
Bevelers are a pair of musicians from Portland, Oregon who make deceptively powerful indie folk. Icebergs is a minute and a half of freedom, it’s beautifully simplicity providing perfect symmetry with the concept within:
As mentioned above, these tracks appear on the Summer of Sad compilation on bandcamp. It’s not only another name your price purchase but the profits go to a charity for survivors of domestic abuse. It doesn’t really get much better than that. You can stream the whole thing here (and then buy it):
Both of these songs also appear on last month’s Quiff, which is excellent, obviously: