Connolly’s Corner

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙋𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧 𝙇𝙋 – 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙠𝙞

Charles loves him (yeah yeah yeah)…

I am a romantic. I didn’t really realise until some point in the past few years, and I’m not sure if the idea of me being a romantic surprises you or if it is so blatantly obvious to you. I am rarely aware how people see me. I cannot know what isn’t in front of me – but sometimes I can feel it.

About three months ago I mentioned that I was reading a book about Paul McCartney. That was ‘The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present’ (for those who might have been intrigued to know). Not so much a book ABOUT him, as BY him. It is not just a catalogue of his lyrics, but instead basically the closest we’ll ever get to an autobiography. In some ways it was the most revealing Beatle book I had ever read, but in other ways it was simply cosy; like having a conversation with the man himself. I say “conversation”, but of course, when you’re in the presence – which I never was – of such a man, you don’t speak; you only listen. You absorb it all, picturing the scene as he relays it word by word. Having devoured many-a-book since then (all novels), I decided it was time for another Beatle book. This time it was ‘John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs’ by Ian Leslie. I am still very much in the middle of it. Put it this way – ‘The Lyrics’ is now no longer the most revealing Beatle book I have ever read. ‘John & Paul’ is NOT just another cash grab, retelling the same old stories ad nauseam. It is instead something fresh, hailed by readers as the first new Beatles story in decades.

I started this article by informing you of my romantic side for a reason. I love romance. I adore beauty. I now see that this is the very reason I became an artist and an art lover. And THIS is what drew me towards this book. It is a romance story that reads almost like a novel. Though neither John nor Paul were gay, their relationship was closer than most couples’; somehow deeper. Possibly because they shared their art together, but because of just SO many reasons that I can’t begin to get into here and now. The book chronicles their closeness from their first meeting in 1957 to Lennon’s death in 1980 (and a little beyond – though I haven’t got there yet). My recent dreams have frequently been (sergeant) peppered with beautiful Beatle goodness, as if I were there with them, or as though I am one of them! My heart has come alive in breathtaking Technicolor. I am bursting with love. If you’re a Beatles fan (or even if you’re not), this will be the most beautiful book you read this year.

The thing is, I’m not John; I’m not Paul. Although I am so totally wrapped up in this true story, it is not MY story. It is nothing to do with me; I’m just an observer. When it comes to artists I have loved for a long time, I often FEEL their music as though I am somehow connected with the artist; but I do not know them. I have never met them. Occasionally, though, there is an artist that I admire SO much, where I adore every ounce of their work, and again I feel that connection with the artist; the difference being, I actually know that artist. I have the honour to be friends with such an artist. This has only happened to me once. In other examples, either I don’t know the artist, or I know the artist but their music is simply enjoyable or pleasing to me; it does not move me in quite the way I mean. Or, said artist’s quality is not dependable enough; it needs to hit me in the heart every single time. I said it has only happened to me once… That artist is Kaminski. Although we do not know each other that well, we seem to read each other. Or rather, we seem to know each other well, but neither is quite sure how. Sometimes it isn’t necessary for it to be in front of us in order to know. We just feel each other. No, not in that way. I have this feeling that Kaminski would prefer something a little more heartfelt than a song review (he’s probably heard the song before). I strongly suspect that Kaminski is another sensitive romantic. I would like to touch Kaminski. No, not in that way. I would like to fulfil his needs. No, not in that way. Look. If John and Paul were able to have a close, beautiful connection, why can’t Kaminski and I? So, here is ‘Kam-Kam and CC: A Love Story in Thongs’. Sorry, I did actively chuckle there. Like John and Paul, neither of us is gay; I assure you there will be no mention of thongs, and neither of us will be breaking any G-strings, no matter how hard we strum.

Kaminski has a brand new album out; his second so far. Over the weekend, I have been nervous and excited. Partly because I so wanted this album to be as good as it could possibly be (spoiler alert: it is), but also because of this very article. With the prospect of something new and different, I am always nervous and excited. You might notice by the title of the article, that I have not chosen a specific track from the album; because for me, that is not the point of the release. But also because I didn’t want to get bogged down in the technicalities of the music. I wanted to focus more on the man, and our relationship. Okay then, one quick thing about the album to give you an idea of its goodness. I am a massive fan of Queens of the Stone Age. Friday came complete with new albums from QotSA (‘Perfecth’) and Kaminski (‘Plot Armor’). QotSA pales in comparison. Kaminski’s offering is far superior in every way. I hope that gives you an idea of the level we’re talking here. This isn’t anything like “supporting a friend” – I’m simply a massive fan, regardless of whether I know the man or not. I’m a member of the Kaminski fan club (there isn’t one, before you go looking) – are YOU? If not, you will be. What, you want MORE about the album?? Fine then.

Being Dutch (or Frisian), Kaminski had his weird and wonderful reasons for using the American spelling of ‘armour’, but I did not fully (remotely) understand them. If you’ve been an avid listener of Kaminski for the last two or three years, you will have heard most of these glorious songs; but there are a few new ones with which you won’t be familiar… For a fab song you’ve definitely never heard before (not one of the previously released singles), listen to ‘Teletext’. It’s a stunner, complete with an eerily Super Furry Animals moment at 1:35. The sad thing is that the journey of this album has upon release come to a close (but is finally here to enjoy in one big gulp). The good thing is, this will presumably be the last time we see this damned cover with the young drummer boy and the twirly girly…! Apologies, Kam-Kam, I got mighty sick of it (though a fab cover initially). An earlier release of his was called ‘Black Salad’ (I fell in love with it at the time). The ‘Plot Armor’ LP includes ‘Black Salad’ – a song that was on his previous EP, yet no others from that EP appear on the record. I wondered for days about the reason for this. Then only this morning I realised the probable answer. Kaminski loves vinyl. His first LP (‘My Diary Lied’) was released on vinyl, and I have no doubt he will be following suit with this new one. The thing is, an LP can only hold roughly 45 minutes of music – one of various reasons I never released my album on vinyl (it’s 47 minutes long – dayum!). His new LP comes in at 42 minutes, fitting comfortably on a vinyl record; surely this has got to be the reason he omitted stunners like the masterful ‘Hands’. You’ll notice I haven’t gone into any musical details of the album. I simply don’t see much point in doing so. I only ask that you set aside 42 uninterrupted minutes, and listen from beginning to end. Don’t thank me; thank Kam. I will be very confused if you’re disappointed.

And so the story finally begins. We two “met” (we’ve never MET) in May of 2023. That was when I first came across his music, with the song ‘Black Salad’. I wrote what I wrote in public in order to share my discoveries of this treasure of an artist, and he replied in private. It was the most heartfelt, heartwarming message I had received in quite some time. Bear in mind that I STILL very often don’t receive a message from the artist I have reviewed and poured my heart (and time) into. So instantly I realised that this was an artist utterly deserving of my bother with these weekly musings. But more to the point, I got a glimpse not of an artist, but a person. A beating heart and a mind that ticked in sync with life; MY life. The way he “spoke” (typed) was exactly how I had imagined and hoped, based on his music. Although a quiet, private man, what was evident to me was his intelligence, modesty, sense of humour, kindness, sympathy, empathy, and his understanding and uninhibited natural sense and analysis of people and things. Everything was as clear to him as he was to me. There is a purity to him, like that of a wise, humble monk. He is, however, SO far from being a preacher man; that is a type I can do without. He lacks that common plastic “nice” sheen that so many have decided to spray on these days, like a fake tan; and yet he is perfectly lovely, oozing effortless charm. He’s also generous, too; soon after that initial review from me, he quietly and coolly sent me a vinyl record of his first LP as a thank you. I can’t say THAT happens much – of course, it’s the only time. But speaking of records, there is, of course, the music. Lump all this together, and I found myself utterly hooked. I had not only discovered a fabulous new artist, but I had found a very good friend.

Like all of us, Kaminski – I really should be calling him Derek, but there’s something more magical in “Kaminski” – has had his ups and downs in life over the months. I vividly remember one specific time earlier this year when he came to me because he needed me. He needed to speak. He needed to open up. He knew I was a good listener, and he knew I would always care. There was no chance of me giving him any advice – this wasn’t what he needed (and there was nothing I could have done); he simply needed not to feel alone. Of COURSE, I will not be going into the slightest of details because, well because. He’s my friend, for God’s sake! This situation was not like him. He doesn’t ever come across as someone who needs support and certainly was never simply using me for my kindness. It’s just that we all occasionally break a little. He got by, with a little help from his friend. I desperately wanted him to come to London so we could be 22 “again”, and he wanted that too; but it was not to be. We felt so close, like we had known each other for many years. Like we had been through so much together. Yet in actual fact, we have known each other over the internet for three years, and we have never really been through ANYTHING together. It’s honestly the strangest (and perhaps strongest) connection between us. Alongside the lower times that he has communicated, have been the most beautifully high times, where he has shared the fabulous musical achievements of his offspring, especially his incredibly talented drumming son, Silas. This isn’t some sort of “Look what I have created: MY son, MY son!”, but more “Look what HE has achieved: my SON, my SON!” – it is pride and honour, and I have no doubt that he is a flawless father, balancing music with morals, making sure only to pass down his best traits, so the worst (if any) die out with him.

After two years of waiting impatiently, I finally get my early Christmas gift: ‘Plot Armor’, the LP. It is like having a piece of my dear friend (no, not that piece), Kaminski – I never think of him as Derek (his real name) but instead Kam-Kam – any time I wish. I feel very fortunate.

I have already noticed early review quotes for the LP, like “The album is a work of genius” – well that’s what genii/geniuses do!

“Get a room!”, I hear you all cry. Simmer down: All You Need Is Love.

For a taste of the 𝙋𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧 LP on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist, listen HERE!

For a taste of the 𝙋𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧 LP on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist, listen HERE!

For a taste of the 𝙋𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧 LP on YouTube, listen HERE!

For the whole LP in full on Spotify, listen HERE!

For the whole LP in full on Apple Music, listen HERE!

For the whole LP in full on YouTube, listen HERE!

Follow 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙠𝙞 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙠𝙞 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙄𝙩 – 𝙋𝙖𝙪𝙡 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙠

Charles is not an accessory…

Your favourite band or artist might be someone whose music you have been in love with since their very first timid toe-dip into the realm of public ears. It is a sound that soothes or excites; a sound that was seemingly made for you personally; bespoke. You receive record after record, gift after gift, of tailored bliss. And then comes (very often) album number four… ALL CHANGE!! The band or artist gets bored with their own sound and wants to “switch things up a bit” (a curious phrase that has strangely become part of life). Excited, nervous, you listen. Confused, disappointed, you no likey. It is not so much the music that you don’t like, as the fact that is has changed. You might take it as a personal slight, as if they are trying to rid you from their fanbase… This is, of course, not the case. The last thing any artist wants to do is ditch their fans; the fans are everything! What the artists hope is to take their fans with them on their own journey. They want their fans to trust them. Any artist needs to be genuine. Their music must not be swayed by the wants and needs of the fans. That’s why art is not a product.

It makes me think of Bob Dylan “going electric”, The Beatles ditching the mop-top image of ‘From Me To You’ and delving into the land of ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, Radiohead switching abruptly from organic instruments (OK Computer) to drum machines and synthesisers (Kid A), Or RAYE migrating from generic hip-hop pop to orchestral wonderment. Should any of these artists have to DEFEND themselves or be forced to retreat to what they were doing in their sleep, year after year…? An artist was never supposed to be a factory (with the huge exception of Andy Warhol, but that was the whole point – turning art on its head; he sure “switched things up a bit”). The most the artist can really say is “Look, that’s what we’ve made; that’s who we are for now. Get used to it.” The same can be said for close friends. Say, they change their hairstyle, their fashion or even their political point of view. The reaction can be so fierce. The retort will often be “Get used to it, or sod off”. It’s blunt, maybe even a little on the rude side, but it’s fair. Friends are not there to be what you want them to be. They are not minor accessories to your oh-so important life. They have given you the choice: like it or lump it. Respect it or go away.

What I’m not a fan of, though, is change for the sake of change; a forced change with no apparent goal in mind. Clutching at straws, this is what lost souls do. But if there is purpose and reason, oh, the answer can be nothing BUT change. If you don’t like who you are, do NOT get used to it. You’re already used to it, and (to quote the Bard), it sucks. Sometimes it’s not a case of disliking the continuum, but simply being bored of it; a feeling of completion; time to move on. Like wearing shorts as a young boy, it’s all you ever knew, it’s what goes on your legs. But at the grand old age of 12, you feel you’ve done that, and frankly, you’re conscious of hairs sprouting on those shinny-shin-shins. It doesn’t mean you will never wear shorts again (or maybe it does), but for now you simply would like to try something new. On goes the skirt. Ahem, or trousers – whatever floats your boat.

It is now probably time to reflect on a specific changer. One who has gone from strength to strength over the past 4 years. The conscious plot-forwarding chapters are marked by albums. Please welcome Paul McCormick from Liddypoo! That’s “Liverpool” for those who don’t speak my junk language. As of writing this, it is raining in London. I should think it is also raining in Liverpool. Although we (the British) barely had any rain over the entirety of summer, we’re sure making up for it now – God’s seesaw balance (he likes to “switch things up a bit” just as we were getting used to it). The thing about rain, though, is that it can be a little depressing when relentless; it can lower the spirits. We can become quiet, low and insular; it can make us a little restless and snappy; but in a peculiar way, it can also make us perky, positive and hopeful, which all interests me in terms of following Paul’s career thus far. Friday saw the release of his third album, ‘Cautiously Confident’. While being his third, I personally see it as the final act of something that simply needed dealing with; his state of mind…

I think you all know by now that I am not really much of a playlist man, but instead very much a lover and respecter or long-playing records. For me, an LP (or album) is what truly connects an artist with its listener. An isolated song can be fabulous, but it is more about music and listener, rather than artist and listener. I have always felt that a carefully crafted album is the ultimate connection between chef and devourer. It brings one closer to the creator and the intention. Let’s look at these three albums from Paul McCormick. Album 1 was bitterness, confusion and resentment; the (intentional) mess. Album 2 was honesty, analysis and realisation; the (inevitable) problem. And finally, Album 3 is bravery, strength and healing; the (compulsory) answer. I see these albums as three acts in order to get not to the conclusion, but to the beginning. Life starts here. Setbacks in life can take over and basically BECOME life itself. To the extent that one can forget there was ever a reason for sorting the problems in the first place. Wars are not won just so we can sit back and watch TV in peace… I expect something totally different and fresh for Album 4. But we’ll probably have to wait at least 2 years for that. In the meantime we have album number three to enjoy (not to mention his previous two). ‘Cautiously Confident’ is his best so far. The journey has only just begun.

Cautious confidence makes a lot of sense; not to be scared, but not to be reckless. This attentive show of ebullience has been brought to us over the months through a series of singles and EPs, which Paul has been eking out as the ingredients for his third major work; but only now do we get the full ten-course meal in one sitting, complete with Track 1, which I believe to be the only remaining unheard song; ‘Get Used To It’. It sets the scene and defines the LP as a whole. This is not a phase; this is who he is now, so get used to it. Comfortably, I shall. Instrumentally speaking, Paul rules the roost, singing all vocals and playing all guitars, while Carl John Dillon beats the skins (always worth getting a drummer unless you’re absolutely brilliant yourself – anything less than excellence on drums can cripple a song into mediocre obscurity). His producer and mixing engineer is the ever-faithful Robert Whiteley, guaranteeing Paul’s usual measure of yardstick (it’s always a reliable yard). Writing is, of course, all Paul (with songs as personal as this, how could it be anyone else??). We start lo-fi, with guitar chords hanging in mid-air like smoke in an enclosed room; beats filtered at both ends; an OWgan pads with each chord. After just one round, the REAL drums introduce with enthusiastic pep; the bass fills the low end while a supremely strummed acoustic guitar opens up the upper range. Now I REALLY know why Paul and Robert brought in Carl – that fast shuffle on the hi-hats is notoriously hard to sustain and needs the experience of a loose yet controlled wrist (“always from the wrist, never from the elbow”, my drum tutor used to say). Paul grabs the mic with his now-usual confidence, making sure not to knock over the mic stand (it’s cautious confidence, after all). That first line is the set-up for the entire record: “I was always over-cautious, Now I’m cautiously confident”. It’s almost an explanation should you not have heard the previous album duo. There is a certain smug swagger (though he would probably dislike to be called smug, and “does swagger really suit me?”) with the line “Does it make you sick, seeing me succeed? You lost the power you had over me”. This isn’t arrogance. This is pride. The protective shell is off, and he can walk without aid; fun-makers can f- fun off. But Paul has also grown his proverbials: “You’ll face the wrath of my tenacity”!! He’s now Paul McComeGetSome! Then comes the singalong chorus “Get used to it, Get used to it” – absurdly catchy. The man is going more and more rock with every release – and it sure suits him. And speaking of suits, I wouldn’t be surprised if the next album ditches the suit jacket and goes full black leather – it takes a heck of a lot of guts to pull that off.

My absolute fave bit, though, is at 2:22 (a pleasing number), where guitars stab the space provided (gorgeous spring reverb). But 2:31 is where things REALLY get heavily cool; a riff sent from tone heaven via Royal Blood, bleeding straight into a screaming guitar solo. But blimey, that tone. I think it might be layered, but it also sounds a little like when you stick a wah pedal in the chain but leave its position somewhere in the middle for an exaggerated snarly mid tone – pro tip! Or as they call it these days: Life Hack!! ‘Get Used To It’ is without a doubt one of Paul’s very best songs so far. And WHAT an opener to one heck of an album. Boy done good.

One thing though. DON’T get used to it… USE it. Use your new-found energy, freedom, vitality and confident drive in order to reap what you can from what life has to offer. And if life seems to have nothing to offer, take control and MAKE life have meaning and purpose.

Phew! I need to simmer. I think I’ll switch things down a bit.

Listen to 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙄𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙄𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙄𝙩 on YouTube HERE!

Listen to the 𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 LP on Spotify HERE!

Listen to the 𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 LP on Apple Music HERE!

Listen to the 𝘾𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩 LP on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙋𝙖𝙪𝙡 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙠 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙋𝙖𝙪𝙡 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙠 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙒𝙚 𝙋𝙖𝙮 – 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙

Charles foots the bill…

The world is not small. It has never been small. I mean, universally speaking it is tiny, but we’re rarely talking in terms of the Universe. Earth is all we really know; and frankly, that’s more than enough to be getting along with. The question is, do we actually get along with it? Do we have truck with it? (Lovely phrase, ain’t it). But do we? I’m pretty sure most of us will answer quite simply, “No”. Yes, even those who wish to see the positive in everything and everyone. And for those of this inclination, just ask yourself why you feel the need to see the positive in everyone and everything… Is it perhaps because there is so much negative in so much and so many…? Could be. Hence why most will simply say “No”. Was this always the case? Quite possibly, actually. The difference being, we didn’t really know…

In the old days (ugh, old man CC with that line again), our fond planet was seen to most like an unknown universe; in the same way that we know about the existence of other planets (and we gave them the coolest names), yet we know very little about any of them, and we certainly don’t have anything to do with them. A foreign planet to the average person now, is like foreign countries and continents to the average person then. Newspapers would attempt to describe the goings-on of other nations in their other countries, but there was always a comfortable distance and unfamiliarity in tow. Life was simpler in being more insular. It all used to be about family and community; villages and towns. Nothing larger. This alone was more than enough for our quaint little brains. You see, in general, we can only cope with so much.

These days, things are very different. But are they…? Is the world vastly different from such a long time ago? Or is it simply that we are more aware of it all? Horrors and catastrophes from around the globe are thrust upon our retinae in breathtakingly shocking colour. The internet connects us all together in what was apparently supposed to be some sort of peaceful utopia as we all join hands and sing songs. Well, that didn’t happen, did it. It only made us bitter, resentful and craving past ignorance: “If only I never knew”. But is ignorance the answer? I like to think that partial ignorance is, yes. To not get too involved, but to still vaguely know what is going on. We all have a certain view of how the world should be, and how our lives should be/have been, but in having zero power to implement such changes (changes that could easily be drastically dangerous because we could be wrong), our wish becomes a pipe dream. We then naturally start to build barriers; partition walls in order to make our own world a little smaller. Our very own shelter; a soft, familiar duvet repelling the incomprehensible hardness beyond. Ignorance in small doses can be a bit of a lifesaver. Take, for example, the cover artwork of this week’s pick. Does anyone else see the cover as Mulder and Scully…? Those of you who don’t know who they are, you maybe need to tack an extension on to your shelter… One’s personal shelter should not make you feel hemmed in. You never want to be aware of the borders. Those welds you so lovingly and determinedly zapped should not be close enough for inspection. Shoes come in a box. A dozen wine bottles come in a box. An engagement ring comes in a box. One’s personal world, while having limits, should never feel enclosed. Maybe think of it as borderless borders. Oh lord, this is beginning to sound a little like soft Brexit… Not what I meant at all! What I mean is, in the end, a shelter is perfectly okay. We make our own little world within the vast epic world around us. For sanity and happiness, it’s a small price to pay.

But let’s get back to Mulder and Scully; or at least the song connected with its cover. Please welcome a man who is increasingly becoming dangerously regular in my Corner (though believe it or not, it has been 3 months), Gary Taylor, otherwise known as Unobliterated. Look, I can’t help it if some artists refuse to lower their standards…! Great work deserves reward; so here’s my own brand of reward, meagre though it might be. We’re going to be looking at/listening to the brand new single, ‘The Price We Pay’. Hell yes. You all know Gary pretty well by now, so I’ll get straight into the song. So, what’s the meaning behind the title and the lyrics? Good question! For me it is just ambiguous enough. At first I saw it as something similar to what I spoke about above. But then I watched the video… and “my life got flipped, turned upside down” (thank you, Will Smith). It sort of suggests that I was half right, and half VERY wrong. Which is something that I DON’T especially like about music videos. They tend to have a tendency to either spell everything out, or cheapen the music with banal dancing to what might once have been a sensitive topic. Gary’s video does NOT venture into the banal or the dancing, thank the lord. But it does heavily suggest things that had not crossed my mind on first, second, third and fourth listen (without the visuals)…

Those youthful days of innocence are so often scuppered and corrupted, sadly, by drugs. It can cripple one’s entire life if not careful. You could be dabbling with the devil if you run too close, too frequently. The lazy haze can be fun. It can be refreshing. It can remove you from problems and anxieties. But realistically, those impediments are simmering on a low heat, unobliterated, ready to pick up at a later date. Before you know it, you’re hooked. The days become just lengths of time with no noticeable difference from one to the next. What was once a refreshing, exciting change is now an addictive, monotonous hindrance, restricting any progress in life. To leave this life of misery and instead face a fresher perspective has its challenges, and is not an easy task. Especially when you’re surrounded by friends who are equally addled and lost in life. It means leaving behind a side of you; perhaps a great chunk of you. But in the end, the price we pay pales in comparison to what we receive. And when you’ve got a lover with whom to brave this new adventure, the shelter becomes a paradise; a cushioned cocoon of comfort and contentment. And why bloody NOT?!

So, I THINK that’s what it’s about. For all I know, it could be about the extortionate amount charged for a loaf of bread in this current economical climate. Let’s get on to something I definitely know about. Music. YAAAY!!! Sorry, I felt like Snoopy, there. In music, it is quite rare that “cool” is associated with “fun”. And yet, here we are. I think this is Gary’s funnest record to date. With echoes of the Ghostbusters theme, he rips in with drums, bass, perhaps the faintest plucked electric guitar, and organ, organ, OWgan!!! It’s thrilling, fun and oh-so cool. It throws the immediacy of a busy, throbbing bar as you swing open the door, stride and greet the familiar barkeep with a knowing grin. It’s the sound of 22-years-old; positively buzzing. All this, potentially because it’s his best mix yet (mixing is underrated – yes, I WOULD say that). The sound captures the impact and presence of his earlier work, but with more refinement and style. Then what? Well, then Gary’s voice chimes in, clear, crisp and tuned. But ya know what I love about almost ALL of Gary’s work? My favourite thing in music… The thing that is all but forgotten these days… Melody. He is one of the most melodic writers (vocally) in the independent scene – I do believe that. Some focus on guitar virtuosity, some hone in on groove, some are obsessed with clever vocal trills, some are simply all about the woyds… But Gary? I think his forté lies in melody. Of course, there’s so much more to his music, but this is the thing that makes me stick around. So, it really helps that he’s got a damned good voice to carry it!

I have a little task/challenge for you all. It will involve multiple listens, so you must be dedicated to your passion for great music. Choose an instrument (voice included) and concentrate on just that part from beginning to end. Then repeat the process for a different instrument until you have exhausted them all. I am sure you will be fascinated by each and every part. I mean, just take the drums, for example… Golly!!! This is the kind of drum-line that the drummer plays when touring the world! The OWgan? It’s really refreshing, and kind of the key to everything! Those incredible horn parts bursting in and out – crikey, they’re just spot on! Even that guitar in the background, it’s so integral to the rhythm and HEAT of the piece. But then there’s the bass…….. Oh, betcha-by-golly-wow. Mindblowing!!! Simply one of the most thrilling basslines I have heard in a VERY long time. Oh, and do take note of the (almost ever so slightly) calypso section at 3:26. Unobliterated has yet again come up trumps!!! What a pro.

Your bread is also expensive? Huh. Small world.

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 – 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙆𝙚𝙮𝙨

Charles fires up the engine…

Bad things happen. They just do. It doesn’t matter how much we try to prevent it; eventually, bad things will definitely happen. A professional chef will occasionally burn the onions. An experienced driver will occasionally scratch the paintwork. A concert pianist will occasionally hit a bum note. And then there are the things over which we have no control… The roof caves in due to much unknown woodworm. A close friend dies. Lightning strikes your favourite tree. They say lightning never strikes the same place twice (a myth, by the way)… Yet in life, it sometimes feels like lightning is repeatedly striking in the same place: your soul; as if someone has it in for you. Inevitably, you start to collapse under the weight of it all. Bad things just keep happening, and you just sit there, taking the blows like a defenceless punchbag. Your will weakens to the point of won’t, at the mercy of everyone and everything else. While you used to scramble for a fire extinguisher, you now just cower amongst the flames.

There is, however, one forever undying pilot light within; the only flame that must never be put out. It serves to keep the heart pumping, a reminder that you deserve better; that it doesn’t have to be this way. But with zapped energy it seems impossible to recover such previous vitality. Thinking back to how you used to be, you start to wonder if you are even still the same person. So much has affected you, having been bashed from every direction into submission, but you must not ever fully submit. There comes a time when you simply must take back control; control of your own life. Such a process ain’t easy. It can certainly seem daunting, to say the least, but a little inner strength and determination is “all” that’s needed. You have to WANT your old life back – or a new and better life. You see, sometimes attempting to reverse is simply not possible. The map is outdated and the roads have changed. You need to take a new route. You look at that battered old car with its worn tyres surrounded by moss and weeds, but in your pocket remains the ignition key. Though cold, you’re aware that a spark is all it takes to begin the new journey in life. One turn, and the heart elevates to the “alive” position, with lungs wheezing out the toxins. This vehicle has been stationary for too long; it’s time to take it out of neutral. Gear by gear, you set off; finally, back in the driver’s seat.

And with this, comes a confident young man having been through so much blight. He has returned, courageous, on the other side, where the grass is indeed – as they say – greener. His name is Nick Pound (a pretty cool name, if you ask me), but you will probably know him as Sonic Keys. Originally from England, he has been living in Brisbane, Australia for a long time – couldn’t really have gone any further! I mentioned hardship… Well, of course, he has not only been through this, but also that. Which is putting it lightly. But more to the point, he lost his father in 2022, in the most horrific way possible. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say it will forever be deeply affecting for the lad. I mean, losing a father is bad enough; that alone can be years or decades of grief. But this passing is the kind of passing that simply does not pass; a dark undertone etched deep into Nick. Understandably, he had lost control of things. But all was not lost. The silver lining came in the form of song. Nick finally started releasing music in 2023. So, did he therefore begin his musical journey in 2023…? Of course not. Music is not just something at which to be instantly brilliant. It takes years and years to be good enough to even think of releasing music to the world. He started singing and playing the piano at the age of 7; a fabulous start. But his first big moment came in 2012 when he performed in front of a panel of celebrity judges such as Dannii Minogue and Brian McFadden, not to mention around 2000 audience members; it was Australia’s Got Talent! No, I can’t think of much more nerve-racking either…!

In 2023, Nick released two singles. In 2024, there were three more. But 2025 is for me when things start to get serious. There were two more songs, but these were the ones that really made me latch on to Sonic Keys and consciously take note. And it cannot be a coincidence that this is when he started employing the services of Stuart Stuart. Yup, Stuart Stuart is indeed a genuine name, and the name of Nick’s producer and mixing engineer. This isn’t in any way putting down Nick’s previous efforts before this working relationship had formed, lord no; those earlier songs were great! It’s just that as the writing leapt in level, so did the sound and production. Song is a duo of writing and sound, after all. But sound is especially important in pop music. Things simply have to be perfect, or it just falls short of the mark. And perfection is EXACTLY what Sonic Keys is striving for these days; *spoiler alert* he damn well gets there. You will maybe notice the lack of Sonic Keys in my reviews thus far. This was because I simply knew he was coming with something “double-multi-mega-wow” (to quote the term of a friend). I knew nothing of his future releases, but I had this clear feeling that he was going to arrive very soon in my little Corner. He did not let me down.

Friday brought us his debut EP (‘In The Driver’s Seat’), totalling five tracks. Track 3 – ‘Better Days’ – was already a very popular single, despite being my least favourite of the five. Though exceedingly well put together, it is just a little too twee for me. Track 2 and 5 – ‘Make My Move’ and ‘Coming Back To You’ – are really good and definitely a notch above; very pleasing pop tracks. But for me, the absolute winners are tracks 1 and 4 – ‘In The Driver’s Seat’ and ‘One By One’. Seeing as track 1 is the title track, I thought I would concentrate on that one. This is as pop as pop gets. And watch out Patrik Ahlm, you sure have some competition. In fact, Nick, is Patrik your Swedish brother…? Surely you can all hear the similarity in vocal tone…? And that’s one heck of a compliment. But the comparisons don’t end there. Both musically and vocally, I get huge familiar rushes of Gary Barlow (without the Christmas jumper), Sam Smith (without the yuk), Olly Murs (at all times) and even Charlie Puth (when he’s not being asked “what chord is this?”). You get the picture. I SAID it was POP pop. Nick Pound’s voice is essentially flawless, and for once managing to carry the energy and oomph so synonymous with pop hits. I find that many indie artists attempting to pull off pure pop fall short of the power and presence needed for such a genre. And a LOT of confidence is needed, too. But with that vocal passion, must come solid writing, sculpted and precise production, and absolutely perfect sound. Everything has to be 100% clear, brilliant and intentional. Nick Pound and Stuart Stuart successfully work together to achieve ALL of this.

The opening synth flutters in like butterflies. Disco strings stab the air as the ULTRA-compressed piano mimics early Take That. Crisp claps excite the 2 and 4 before the hi-hats design the slickest groove and the DEEPEST kick lurches forward to join the claps. Then the funkiest impression of Nile Rodgers sets up our first verse with a glorious little horn (trombone?) blast. And WHAT a verse it IS! The syncopated energy of the strings/bass unison combined with the peppiest of beats is the perfect backdrop for the star vocalist, Nick himself. The pre-chorus gets those hips swinging into the mood of what is inevitably to follow: pop goodness in the chorus!! I dunno, maybe it’s the producer/engineer in me that appreciates this kind of slickness and perfection, but I love it. After another round of verse, pre-chorus, chorus, we reach the bridge. And THIS (2:10) is where things develop more, musically. It could be the pauses I like, it could be the pizzicato plucks in the background, it could be the relentless unrepeated chords and patterns, or even the chromatically descending bassline; but I think it’s the segue into the suspended chord at 2:22 that I really admire. It’s just so SLICK! And it’s chorus heaven from there on until the end. Control really is the name of the game in this song. Nick has taken back control. He’s in the driver’s seat.

I’d be VERY interested to hear YOUR favourite track on the EP. But you mustn’t be swayed by my own thoughts (and please don’t purposely say the opposite either, simply because it’s the opposite – that gag grew old at school). Let me and Nick know in the comments below!

Having burnt the onions, scratched the paintwork and hit nothing but bum notes, I think I’ll just play it safe and hire a chauffeur.

Listen to 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 on YouTube HERE!

Listen to the 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 EP on Spotify HERE!

Listen to the 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 EP on Apple Music HERE!

Listen to the 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩 EP on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙆𝙚𝙮𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 – 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙉𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮

Charles ain’t goin’ down…

Now we’re unsafely in the month of scary, let’s talk about fear. Fear is a horror. We’re all afraid of something. Probably many things. Sometimes it is rational, and sometimes not. Examples of rational would be things like flying in an aeroplane; it’s not natural, is it, to be unsupported in the sky, travelling at a million miles an hour. But then again, you’re statistically far more likely to come a cropper whilst driving your own motorcar on the ground; so maybe that’s an example of irrational fear…? Some fear illness. Others fear mice. Many have a fear of ghosts, but that’s silly because ghosts don’t ex- WAAH!! Sorry, it was just the curtain moving in the breeze. Ahem, because ghosts don’t exist. Now that I think of it, most fears amount to the fear of death or at least some physical damage. Which makes sense, since we hold little more dear to us than life itself. But should we FEAR things? Fear and worry have one thing in common: they are completely and utterly pointless. Yes, yes, I know that fear is a chemical automation of some sort, designed to make sure we’re careful. But really, when fear comes along, we should try to replace it with astute observation and high awareness, should there be any danger. In most cases – like the aeroplane – fear should be replaced with a good book and your favourite tipple. Fear, like worry, does not help, and often makes things worse. We become erratic. The rational turns irrational.

There are many fears that lie under the surface, too. Like the aforementioned mice – I didn’t know I had a fear (phobia) of them until I *CC shudders at the memory* saw one in my living room. Freaked out, I did. Screamed like a girl. No, like a posh middle-aged woman of a hundred and fifty years ago, horrified at having seen a young couple kissing in broad daylight; more of a howl than a scream. There I was, clamped to the wall like an electromagnet, blinking no longer an automatic habit, unable to take my eyes off the blighter, because the last thing I wanted was to NOT know where it was. So yeah, fear is indeed a horror. Other fears that lie under the surface will sometimes rear their ugly head in dreams; nightmares, I should say. Teeth wobbling and falling out? Being chased? Drowning? General disasters for which you are embarrassingly unequipped, therefore rendered completely helpless? But then there’s the classic.. Falling. When you dramatically awake, from the black hole (why does it always end fading to black like a film?), sweating, panting, heart racing like the clappers, yet oh-so relieved that yes, it was just a dream; just a dream. But before that dark abyss, down into which you plunge, limbs flailing, like a whirling Hitchcock shot, there is the anticipation in your toes, knowing you’re about to descend. That tingling throb of fear. There is nothing to hold on to, and you just KNOW what’s going to happen. Our poor souls. Who said sleep was relaxing??

But then there’s the other form of falling. Falling in love. Ain’t it such a blissful phrase? Powerlessly overtaken by one of the strongest emotions known to man (and certainly also to woman), as you fall deeply into a cushion of the softest delight. There is nothing quite like it. So why should there ever be a fear of such a beautiful thing?? Well, maybe it is not healthy to be with the other character in this love story… Maybe they’re already currently entwined in the love of another. Hell, maybe YOU are…! Then I could understand the fear; you don’t want to screw things up. Fair dooze! But maybe it’s none of that. Maybe both characters are similarly detached from any other threatening lover… But then there’s still the hugest chance that the love felt is just a one way road; what THEN?! In this case it might be wise to deflect those feelings as quickly as they start to form. But what if your cockles start to tingle, and you just KNOW that the nearly-loved is starting to have similar tingles? Surely this is perfect, no? Well, simply the strength of love – it can be daunting; that “Am I really about to start this?” feeling. Plus, all the other rigmarole that comes with love. The inevitable, eventual problems that occur later on when you realise that their toes freak you out. Or even when you realise the addiction of it all; that you simply can’t cope unless the other is relatively nearby. Maybe you’re simply dreading the idea of it not working out in the end. All this, is the dirty gubbins that is love…

The thing is, sometimes it’s worth the gamble; falling in love. And usually, you just can’t help it. It’s like a full bladder; there comes a time when you just have to release and give in. And don’t you feel so much better afterwards? That’s at least how I felt when listening to the brand new single by Drew Nold and Emily Gray, ‘Not Falling’. Let’s come back to dreams… Dreams don’t only show us deep fear, they open the door and show us the way. And yet, no matter how innocent the dream, no matter how honest it is, how often do we awake from such a dream and instantly push it all back inside again? Why DO we do that? Do we so desperately want to be someone we’re naturally not? Aren’t people weird. So, yes(!), we have a new song to play with. A collaboration, no less, of two artists I have separately reviewed before – both a while ago. Emily, around 9 or 10 months ago; Drew, over two years ago – and that was only as a featured artist. This time around they are split equally, “split” perhaps being the operative word, if the cover and lyrics are anything to go by… Love is in the air. But apparently not to be inhaled, for fear of… for fear of WHAT? Well, only those two will truly know, for they are both the writers of this cutest acoustic tune. It sort of conjures the feeling of Disney, if Disney had been founded in England. I say that because it doesn’t have the over-production with which Disney would lavish it, but also because of the modest, innocent charm of it all. This all makes sense because one half of the musical duo is American while the other is English. Drew is from Missouri, and Emily lives in, well, she lives in Catalonia, but she’s originally from Suffolk (I believe).

Drew is on guitar. Aside from cello, acoustic guitar is the only instrument on the track. I believe it is double-tracked but with slightly different lines. Plucked with precision, yet with the lightest touch. Drew’s voice comes in after a couple of rounds; a bright, honest and comforting voice. It is strong without the power. He sets the scene post-dream. He then drops the M and replaces it with a D… Dread kicks in. From the happy contented verse, comes the brooding, darker pre-chorus. And THIS is where the dry Beatles-esque cello joins the sad party, played by Daniel Gonzalez. Thankfully, the chorus brings back the pep of the verse, complete with bunny-like hops from the cello. Just delightful! Verse two welcomes the lady, Emily. That voice is completely and utterly unmistakable; I have never heard a voice like it in my life, and we know it well. It is the melodious version of her speaking voice. I know this because we have met in person a total of twice, so I have had hours of hearing it in the fleshy-flesh. Can’t quite believe it’s only twice, but there it is. Just in case you thought that sounded like either she doesn’t shut up, or the meetings had been so long and grating I thought they would never end, I didn’t mean that. It’s simply like we have known each other a long while. Anyway, I’m going off the point. Her singing voice. She is just so good at that matter-of-fact way of singing that sounds like a casual chat. So real, so genuine, so honest, and yet still keeping up her signature trills and abrupt pauses. I believe her innocent pain, as I do Drew’s. But when they come together in harmony for that second chorus (1:33-1:54), complete with cello, it is like a flawless Hollywood split-screen. You know the kind; singing alone, together (or together alone, I’m never quite sure). Anyway, THAT’S my fave bit. Next up, we have a rip-roaring chorus, but it’s more like a new version or a part two. New melodies, complete with canonic phrasing shared between the two of them; all in the upper register with mucho gusto. This is where you’re all supposed to sway and sing along. So DO IT!! Eventually we simmer and settle back into that original chorus (like the second), only to end with a full stop like they’re making a stand: they’re NOT falling in LOVE!!! The whole piece is very nicely mixed by Drew himself, and mastered by a chap named Kevin Williams. WHAT a catchy song this is; you won’t believe how it sticks in your head. You have been warned…

I normally don’t go much for these drawn cartoony covers, but THIS one I love. And I know something you probably didn’t know. Who drew the cover? Emily!! Yup, this beautiful little image was drawn by Emily herself. It turns out she has drawn all her artwork since the end of last year. I am beyond impressed.

Who else thinks Drew and Emily look good together…? No, no, CC. Don’t make waves. You’ll anger their partners, or at least riddle them with fear.

WAAH!! Sorry, curtain again. Well, after all, it Shocktober.

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙉𝙤𝙡𝙙 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) – 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧

Charles makes a good thing different…

You know when you’ve spent just ages on something because you really want to be proud of the finished result? Ain’t it so satisfying when it all goes to plan? Seeing as most of us are artists, let’s talk about this in terms of art. Makes sense. Imagine you’re a painter, and you’ve started with the lightest sketch after having “whitewashed” the canvas. The perspective is just right, the intention is just as you had envisioned; you know this is going to work. And so, the first stroke of oil licks the canvas. The brush starts to guide your hand into the right areas, impressing and releasing pressure as it goes. Sometimes delicately, sometimes almost stabbing. Sometimes slow and languid, sometimes ferocious like the quick whip of a sabre. The layers build over several weeks until eventually you step back and see the painting not as a series daubs, but as one whole piece; a scene; a work of art.

The exhausted satisfaction runs over and through you like an ongoing windless, flickering sizzle; a firework’s continuous cascading last gasp. The feeling endures without regret or hesitation. You have succeeded. Up to now, it could be your finest. But as the years go by, you continue to sit with it. The “now” becomes a “then”. Since that moment of inspiration you have had many more. And since those weeks of expression your personality has changed. You think differently now. You work differently now. You wonder if that piece was the best it could have been. You have learnt so much over the years. You have improved in some ways, and changed in others. You have also become very critical of your own past work. You have even toyed with the phase of “nothing is good enough”. And so, with frustration and determination, you start again. Realising the merit in the original, you don’t begin with a violent whitewash; a destruction of the past; a deleting of history – thank the lord. Instead, you set it to one side, its pane reversed. You don’t want to be impressed upon, encouraged to copy what you believe to be less than perfect.

You start with a goal of current-minded perfection, knowing full well that perfection is impossible. Staring at the palette of similar hues, you wonder if these were quite right in the first place. A little more blue here, a little more red there, even a touch of yellow… Yellow! You would never have added yellow all those years ago. And yet yellow seemed so natural now. Huh! It’s funny how time can change one’s persuasions. The conviction is strong; passion riding high. Why is it that this time everything is so much swifter…? Are you more focussed? Do you care more? Was it always just a niggling irritation that needed eventual fixing so that finally you could move on to something new? Whichever reason, it is of no matter. The piece is coming together before your very eyes, and before long, it is done. You step back to admire, and admire is exactly what you do. A relief comes over you like that final debt repayment. You are free. THIS is what you meant. THIS is it……… You flip over the original and place them side-by-side. Hmmm…… Now you start to wonder… It turns out that the initial painting was indeed the very best it could have been. Much like the new version. Neither is better than the other. They are simply different.

And on that note, it is time to whisper with Dorian. That’s right folks, Dorian Whisper is in the house with his latest release, ‘Take To The Skies’. But wait, some of you might have thought that familiar… And to that, I say “my, look at YOU with the memory”!! ‘Take To The Skies’ was indeed a song of Dorian’s from quite long ago (2020, as it happens), but this is a brand new version. The 2026 Version, to be precise. But I don’t mean a quick re-jig of the faders or the sprucing up of a tired dry vocal. And neither do I mean one of those doomp-tick doomp-tick remixes. This is a full re-recording; a reenactment from a different angle, with a different view. Dorian (not his birth name, but we all know him as Dorian, so let’s stick with that) certainly has a signature sound in recent years. One with echoes of the 70s, 80s and 90s. The crispness of the 80s and 90s, with the smooth warmth of Steely Dan. However, he didn’t always have this sound. He used to be more a soft lamenting crooner (velvet bow tie and a twinkle in his eye) in a bossanova jazz bar than the happy-go-lucky marine biologist we have come to know and love. Yes, when doffing the musical cape, he is genuinely a globe-trotting marine biologist (Egyptian by origin).

I think on the whole, many music artists do tend to shudder or cringe when they hear their earlier stuff. They shouldn’t. Very often it is not bad, but simply different. And sometimes, it is actually better than their current output, but the artist rarely sees it this way. Dorian’s earlier music fortunately falls into the category of simply being different. Not better or worse. However he thought of his mature song ‘Take To The Skies’, he evidently felt it necessary to bring it up to date with his more recent releases. And considering the original remains available for all to hear, I think this quite a wise move. Why ever not! It’s also nice because this song was part of his very first release; an EP called ‘As Long as You Want’ – cheeky. And frankly, I bet most of you have never heard it, because listeners almost never delve far back enough. I think there’s this peculiar assumption/notion that if something is old, it is probably not very good; where newness trumps goodness. Even for this reason alone I think it’s great that Dorian decided to revamp his song. But the main reason I’m pleased he did is because it’s just fascinating to listen to the two entirely different versions, side-by-side. I could never say I preferred one over the other; they’re simply different.

The original is more dry, more intimate, somehow more Spanish, with a lethargic heat. It is sadder and more private. But is also more cheeky in a subtle way. The piano and jazz guitar stand together in unity, sharing limelight equally. The whole piece is cosy and quite personal, with restraint and modesty. This brand new version, however, is something else. Firstly, the key has been shifted up a whole step, for a brighter shine. From the very first guitar strum, this has money. There is an expensive sheen of confidence and reassurance. What was previously a classical guitar motif has been usurped by a wide, ringing duo of distorted electric guitars. It feels almost like the LIVE version for a band that has played this song a million times and wants to finally try something new. Which I suppose in a way, it is. The drums have reverb. The rimshot strikes with a vibrant shimmer. Everything has very much more presence and gusto. Those guitars are more akin to Zappa than to Gilberto. And then, there’s that voice. The most changed of everything, to me. The longing sounds more determined. It’s like the difference between “something has gone wrong, how sad” and “something has gone wrong, let’s make it right”. Dorian’s vocal is altogether much brighter, happier and positive. The pre-chorus is also one of the most changed parts. The original slinks into a soft bossa style (think Girl from Ipanema) while the new version rides and builds into a half-time funky groove complete with OWgan and choppy guitar strikes; the snare wallops the water with an almighty splash! The mix in general is technically far superior to the original, but that is not to say the original sounds worse. It’s an interesting thing, sound. What one listener might call muffled, another might call warm. What one listener might call harsh, another might call effervescent. Like those paintings, neither is better or worse, they’re simply different.

Let me know in the comments which version you prefer and why. And if you’re (for some reason) uncomfortable about picking one over the other, just say what you like about each version. Links to both are below.

After many tireless weeks, I’ve stepped back to admire my own masterpiece. Turns out it’s just a series of daubs. Ah well, I’ll call it modern art.

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on YouTube HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on Spotify HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on Apple Music HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 – 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨

Charles meditates…

Your busy day starts a while before your alarm goes off. Not because you’re eager, but because you’re aware of how much there is to do. You’re aware that if you delay, your plate will spill over. And no one likes a sticky table. In the words of George Harrison, ‘It’s All Too Much’. By the time you sit down for breakfast, several things have already not gone to plan. You tripped over the rug that you said you’d straighten first thing in the morning (but didn’t), when pouring your coffee you missed the cup, and you left the freezer door ajar at some point the previous evening (again). Wet mess, brown mess, and throbbing toe. If only there were a way to rid oneself of the feeling this all leaves us. But it gets to you, right? You can’t just “go with the flow”. It annoys you that in just a matter of minutes you have screwed things up so badly, even before the day has properly begun. But all this trifling drivel soon evaporates once you start to think of what lies ahead. The REAL day. You are alert, staring dead ahead. Part depression, part panic…

I should imagine this scenario (or similar) to be somewhat familiar to many of you. What we need to do is step back. Yes, I know, this is the very last thing you intend to do, what with the mounting list of migraine-inducing junk. But you must. It is vital that you find a way to relax and be calm. Something reassuring that you know will always do the trick. No, don’t reach for the bottle (I saw ya); that’s not quite what I meant. Of course, this is easier said than done, because that mind of yours has a mind of its own; it just won’t be told. But you need to be ruthless and insistent. I have tried many things. Walking is nice, but it gives me time to think. Thinking means worry and so I end up obsessing even more, over what needs to be done. Music CAN work, but it is difficult to immerse oneself when the mind is already so full of sodding “important” junk, and so the melodies and sonic marvels become rather like background noise to the forefront of yet more thought. Watching a film feels too much like slacking when I know I should be working. Besides, the guilt stops me from immersing myself. And so, I find myself turning to books…

Most of you probably assume that I have always been an avid reader, what with my weekly writing and my adoration for language and woyds. But nope! Until recently, I had barely read a thing in the last decade. Mainly because I couldn’t concentrate. My own personal thoughts would encroach after just a few lines of prose, and everything would be inside out. It was always supposed to be that the book took me away from my thoughts and stresses, not the other way around. But during an unwell spate earlier this summer (lasting rather longer than I had hoped), I had found that only reading would make me feel normal and calm. And I’m delighted to say that I am now officially a bookworm! I have dashed and munched through the likes of Amis the first, Conrad, Murdoch, Banville, Barnes, McEwan, Ishiguro, Spark, Amis the second, and Waugh. But right now, I am reading a book by an author called Elif Shafak. For those of you who DO read, this might stand out as a rather different kettle of cod. And it is! The authors listed before are all either dark and pensive, light and fun, or plot-ridden to the point where I forget to eat. It was time for something different. Something fresh. Something to take me out of my comfort zone, only to realise there were cushions even more comfortable. While the writing of Elif Shafak can get a little nauseating from time to time (everything has to be “like a vibrant zesty whiff of a honeysuckle on a hazy, lazy afternoon in Spring, where grasshoppers sizzle with zeal” – you get the picture), there is something rather moreish and deeply calming about her writing style. Its ease is the ultimate meditation for me – at least right now.

The same can be said for my music tastes. You all know I love pop, soul, rock, EDM and prog. This is no secret. But you also know I like classical, folk and some softer jazz (not the crazy be-bop that gives me a headache – I get it, you can play more notes than anyone, now CAN it). You see, lately I have been going more for the pensive stuff. The songs that are less like songs, and more like little experiences. Where verses and choruses are not immediately present. Have you heard Agnes Obel’s latest, for example? Masterful, soothing, unique, while subtly electrifying the senses “like a warm winter soup with added spices from the Orient” (oh, thanks Elif, look what you’ve done to me). Anyway, it is perhaps with no surprise that I specifically went for AshRamus’ latest release. But it is quite a surprise (a shock to me, actually – I had to check my files to make sure) that I have never – believe it or not – reviewed AshRamus. I still wonder if there is an error in my filing system, and that I indeed have, but let’s for now assume that I am infallible (HA!). Please welcome AshRamus, with his latest release, ‘Song Of The Heavenly Flute’ (SOTHF from now on).

I would like to focus more on the person behind the music than the music itself, because I kind of believe they are one. AshRamus is a man called Kostas Lukosiunas. It’s all Greek to me. But it ain’t. Born in Lithuania to a musical father, Kostas now resides in Norway. Now, I know what you’re thinking. How idyllic, as you picture the fjords and mountains. Just because I live in London doesn’t mean I have a view of Big Ben, while I squat in Trafalgar Square. The view from Kostas’ studio window of course isn’t… oh wait, it is. His view is genuinely of the fjords and mountains. It genuinely is idyllic. Fine, but he won’t be one of those olde worlde peaceful producer hippies like Rick Rubin… Well, actually, he kinda is. Your initial assumption from his artist name might have been that his real name is simply Ashley Ramus, but in fact it stems from the word ashram, meaning calm. His artist name literally means ‘I am calm’ in Lithuanian. Kostas is pure Zen. He was initially, and he is now. From an early age he played the piano. From the age of 7 he attended a music school. It was all going so well! But at the age of 18 he was conscripted into the Soviet Army. Music was immediately halted with an X as he spent a decade saving lives (note: not ending lives). The following decade he was in the construction business – this is getting very peculiar and slightly sad… Since 2008 he has been a diving instructor (yes, diving, not driving). Finally, in 2022 he had a son at the age of 51 (approx.). And THIS was where his love of music came flooding back. He bought a synthesiser for his son and himself to play around with. The rest is history.

Since the birth of his son, he has released more than 40 pieces. Almost all of which are ambient live performances, played by himself in the spur of the moment. No editing, no corrections, and… NO MIXING!! You might be thinking they must all sound a bit rough and unfinished, though. A bit drifty, with errors and poor sound quality… Yet this is far from the case. He just simply gets it right at the source. Usually his work is on the side of Brian Eno, probably the most famous ambient maker of music. Yet this time around with SOTHF, AshRamus seems to edge more towards Brian’s brother, Roger. I feel the difference between the Enos, is that Brian is more about sound, texture and feel, while Roger is more the composer. I strongly advise you to listen to Roger Eno, as I feel he has been somewhat publicly eclipsed by his brother, so doesn’t get nearly as much limelight as he perhaps ought. To be fair, Roger didn’t also produce Bowie, U2 or Coldplay. So, while AshRamus usually concentrates more on the ambient feel of a certain atmosphere as he stares beyond the fjords (“the water glistening in what meagre sunshine Norway sees fit to apportion” – stop it, Elif), SOTHF is much more refined and composed than his usual output. Which is why it particularly caught my ear. The result is lush, mesmerising, hopeful and sad, but with defined melodies and chord structures. At the length of a pop song, Kostas somehow takes us on a wise, noble journey. And despite the entire piece consisting only of synthesisers, it is astoundingly organic. I am actually not quite sure if it would achieve even half the same intimacy had it been recorded with orchestral instruments. The air is warm yet fresh, and I feel nature. I feel nature as Kostas feels nature. And he portrays it so well. My only “criticism” is that I just WISH it were twice the length. With this kind of music I like to truly immerse myself, and it can take a while for me to be in the zone. The good thing is, we can play it as many times as we wish.

My apologies, this article could have been written better, but I just couldn’t wait to get back to my book – “like an impatient child three nights before Christmas, as the lights are warm and low, and everything remains, for now, intact” – bloody Elif Shafak.

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 – 𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙎

Charles is umming and erring…

Welcome to the wonderful world of Health and Safety. Where a nick or a scratch is a thing of the past. Well, thank GOODness. Why, a scratch is liable to get infected. Which could lead to sepsis. Which could lead to death! I’d better replace that dangerous blade back in its silicone sheath, pronto. Oh, but I must wash the knife first for fear of evil bacteria seeping throughout the country, creating the latest in widespread pandemics. But how then do I wash the inside of the sheath? Ya know, it might be best if I treat them as disposable – I’m sure there’s an automatic subscription plan on Amazon for such things. Yes, that’ll do it. But then again, this is very bad for the environment; that plastic waste will pile up underground, pushing us closer and closer to the sun. And don’t get me started on the dangers of the sun. All in all, it’s probably best if I cut these raw potatoes (dangerous in themselves) with a blunt spoon. I like to err on the side of caution.

It’s quite the phrase, don’t you think? “To err on the side of caution”. And it’s one that we use ad nauseam these days, be it in words or in definition. It runs alongside “Better safe than sorry”. These phrases slip off the tongue with rope and carabiner, so as to be safely rescued for future use. “Safety First” – there’s another one. It seems sensible to me that the first priority in life should be safety. I mean, none of us wants to die. But then again, it also seems rather peculiar. As if the meaning of life is simply to manage to get through it unscathed. “Look at me, I’ve done nothing, experienced zero, achieved zilch, and not a single broken bone!”… But then of course, there’s the cheeky classic: “Always wear protection”. Okay, so it keeps the population down. It calms parents of teenagers. It appeases whorey diseases. But…… “ALWAYS”?? If you heed this advice ad infinitum, you might never finally find out the wherecumfromence of babies. Besides, you could always err on the side of ‘bortion.

While bubble wrap has its uses, it should never be the only wearable. Besides, until Gore-Tex bubble wrap is invented, we’ll quickly sweat and suffocate. Risk is what got us where we are today. Trial and error is at the heart of everything. “If you don’t try, you won’t succeed”. Now, THERE’S a phrase I can cower behind! To err on the side of caution, is to curl up and give up. It’s also one of the main reasons that people are so inherently lazy these days. They’re well aware that if they try something new, they will probably fail – so they don’t try at all. Great. That’s one numb, dull, and frankly pointless population. It is not only great inventors, scientists and artists that should be striving and trying new things; it should be a mandate for every man, woman and child on the surface of this potentially great earth. And it is that vital word “potentially” that I wish for you to see. The potential is there in all of us. Well, to an extent, anyway. Most of us, then. If we keep on being content with an output and success rate of 50-60%, then we might never come close to that ideal 100%. A change will (potentially) do you good – thank you, Sheryl Crow. But a random ill-thought-out change could make things worse. A change will do you bad. I don’t mean for people to change for the sake of change (another common phrase); a random punt is indeed a waste of time, effort and energy. I mean a calculated risk. Calculated to the extent that the probability or likelihood is success rather than failure. We don’t WANT to fail, but sometimes failure is easier and less stressful than the potential of success.

And so, to guitars and all that. This week brings a relative newcomer on the scene; he only started releasing last year in 2025. Now, I know some of you might be thinking that’s a warning sign for HAL (A.I.), but we really can’t start thinking like this, or we’ll end up like old fogeys, moaning that you can’t trust anything new – or anyone young. Because, let’s face it, newness tends to come from the young. We NEED the young, and we’ve all got to start releasing at SOME point. This artist is also a relative newcomer in the community, having only joined at the very end of April. But from what I’ve seen so far, he ain’t one of those “I’ll just stay in the shadows until the end of time” types, but neither is he one of those “Look at me, look at me, I’m so bloody brilliant and I’m such a genius” types. He’s modest, he’s attentive, he’s got a brain, he’s extremely kind and supportive, but most all he’s genuine. He’s also got great taste; by which I mean he likes my music. And just so you know, we have not yet spoken a word to each other. Yet. His is a jib most styled. Please welcome LUDIOSIS, with his brand new shebang, ‘Addicted to Failure’! LUDIOSIS – aside from being yet another member of that ruthless UPPERCASE GANG – is actually an English lad named Daniel Frew. I can’t quite decide if he looks like a Dan or a Daniel. He’s probably fine with either, depending on who’s speaking, but I think I’ll stick with Dan. “Daniel’s the maniel who caniel” slips off the tongue quite without any rope or carabiner, falling face down on the carpet – no motion: it’s dead. So, Dan it is.

I have quietly been watching this artist for a while – God, that sounds creepy; as if I’m rubbing my thighs while drooling a little. Anyway. He has always been good, but I was waiting for him to truly come out of his shell with a bright pride. He’s done it. This chap ain’t addicted to failure. The thing is, it’s not quite failure we mean. No one can really be addicted to failure (except perhaps masochists). It’s more a borderline pass with no merit and certainly no distinction. A certain “that’ll do” attitude. I find this to be common in indie music. Hell, I find this to be common in mainstream music – at least when it comes to writing. But more to the point, I find this to be common in people in general. They’re not wanting to fail, but rather simply not wanting to improve, for fear that it all goes bosom skyward. It’s the risk that puts them off. And – I believe – it is THIS that Dan is portraying in ‘Addicted to Failure’; the inability to change one’s ways for the better. Or: the blindness in people, where they simply don’t see their own flaws.

The drummer hol- wait a sec. Dan does everything, so all that you hear is just this one man. I’ll start again. Standing tall (yes, standing), the drummer holds one stick aloft – pointing to the answer in Heaven – as the audience whoops and spills beer on purpose (despite the extortionate price) – YOLO. His other stick slams down repeatedly on the snare, interjecting occasionally with a hoof to the pedal to the skin of the kick drum. He sits, maintaining poise, energy, balance and rhythm, just as the first guitarist gets the spotlight, centre stage. It is Lennon’s ‘Revolution’ intro – I’m sure you know it well. Mono turns to stereo as double-tracked guitars (and bass) complete the ensemble, hard-panned left and right. It’s reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand and early Bloc Party, but with more “rock” and less 2004 trendy quirk. This is high energy stuff. At 0:45, things go a little more metal, before settling back into the initial vibe. Verse 1 starts at 0:57… That means that the first whole minute is instrumental. Does this mean the song is indeed instrumental? Or does this maybe mean that the song is approximately 43 years long? Nope and nope. The song is under 4 minutes. Meaning we get less than 3 minutes of actual song (excluding the ravishing intro) – which I love. Fast rock songs should generally be pretty short – it keeps the punch and the energy, while our full attention never wanes. I must say, the unusual very long intro is a fabulous choice and works perfectly. Verse 1: welcome to the voice of Dan. But also, welcome to a sound not too dissimilar to early Queens of the Stone Age. In fact, much of the song feels a little like a happier, more energetic take on Interpol and Queens of the Stone Age. Of course, plus many other influences, such as Blondie and even our very own Mal Fantôme and Unobliterated (Dan, you’re not Gary’s long lost brother, are you…?). As I must always say, though, despite all influences, there is that quintessential original LUDIOSIS sound. I absolutely adore the three-part harmony “oohs” running in and out of the piece – it gives things a slightly brighter pop feel with a smile. All in all, the drums are tight, the guitars and bass are supoyb, and Dan has one HECK of a voice. Exquisition incarnate!

Dan’s the man who can.

Do you only ever boil eggs – you don’t even particularly like boiled eggs – because you’re concerned that if you crack the shell, the yolk will split as soon it hits the skillet…? If at first you don’t succeed, fry, fry again.

Listen to 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Watch 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙎 on Instagram HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 – 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣

Charles swans along…

Boyds. I’ve always been fascinated by boyds. “Boyds?? Who are THEY??” – ah sorry. Boyds, you know. Boyds of prey. Boyds of paradise. Boyds of a feather. This boyd has flown. I don’t mean William Boyd and Pattie Boyd. Boyds, YOU know! So yes, ever since I was about 11, boyds have very much been a part of my life. There they were, all around. Captivating and even intriguing, each in their own way. Little ones, curvy ones, ones of all different colours, shy ones, brash ones, elegant ones, and ones clamouring for attention. Of course, I had my favourites, but I enjoyed having them all around. Sometimes I would even try to speak to them. They rarely spoke back. Sometimes they would just give a flutter and turn away, only to disappear. But then as my teens started to really take hold, I became more determined. Then more so in my early twenties. I really became an avid boydwatcher. And it was then that I started to learn their language. They were not afraid of me anymore, although I could still discern a certain amount of caution on their part. Which is fair enough; how were they to know if I might pounce at any time like a puddy tat? That my friendliness wasn’t all a ruse in order to reach out and grab their plump breast? I would never be so brazen. I actually LOVE boyds.

As to the winged variety, I hadn’t really given them much thought at all until parakeets came to dwell not too long ago. Yes, I even wrote a song about them. But my boydal fascination was piqued by them. It made me pay more attention to ALL of them. And London is FULL of winged boyds. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere without being surrounded by my avian friends. And It’s not just pigeons, sparrows and (more recently) parakeets. Sparrows are now quite rare in London, sadly. But I have noticed far more geese, quacking through the air; not to mention the odd red kite! Magpies and crows continue to guard with suspicion, as if one day the gates of the Tower of London might be open to them – they won’t; it’s strictly ravens only. But they practise, nevertheless. I did experience one sad sight a few weeks ago, though. On a surprisingly green patch of grass, lay an unmoving black shape. I assumed at first that it was a black carrier bag, but the day was blustery and there was no flutter in said black shape. As I approached closer, I realised to my horror that it was a dead crow. Then I thought “Ha! It’s a murder of crows!” (Sorry, moyder) – which amused me no end, successfully diluting the trauma that filled me for the following five minutes.

But then there are London’s Royal Parks, of which there are eight. And frankly, they are splendid. I have never quite seen anything close in any other city or even country. Remember, these are parks, not nature reserves, woodlands or countryside. My particular favourites being Regent’s Park, St. James’s Park, Richmond Park and Kensington Gardens. There is such elegance and peace in all of these parks, to the extent that I often completely forget that I’m in busy-busy London. But there is one thing (aside from grass) that ties these Royal parks together. The most elegant creature resides there. The swan. I can watch swans for hours (okay, ten minutes), as they glide atop the shimmering glass, looking as though they have been crafted in the Murano glass factory in Venice. And when a little kid gets too close, the majestic flap of its wings is godly! The swan’s is even MORE impressive. The kid retreats and runs back to mummy. The swan scoops for thirst, and moves on in stoic, noble continuation. The sad truth is that, like everything, it doesn’t live forever. It will eventually feel its time ebbing towards a close. And this is when they sing the tune of angels: A-WARR-KWEK-KWEK, A-WARR-KWEK-KWEK!! Okay, so it ain’t no tune of angels. They may look like they’ve been sent by the heavens, but they sound like a cockney newspaper salesman from a hundred years ago. And so we experience the swan song.

A little boyd told me there’s a new song just released into the wild. Who dat little boyd? Valeryan. What dat new song? ‘Swan Song’. We’re going folkly. But foyst…! What exactly is a swan song? Traditionally, it means that final gasp of brilliance before their eternal sleep. For Freddie Mercury, it was ‘The Show Must Go On’. For Bowie, it was the album ‘Blackstar’. It is so touching, so moving, and very often solidifies their name in the annals of time. It can of course go wrong. Some might expect to receive rapturous applause for the genius within, but instead get lukewarm 3-out-of-5 star reviews, complete with a disappointed raised eyebrow. And then they drop off the planet without so much as an “our thoughts go out to the family”. Very sad, indeed. Usually, though, the swan song is valid proof that they really could achieve greatness right up to the end, and it’s therefore even more of a tragedy that they were taken from us before they sucked. But then again, maybe their demise was BECAUSE they put so much into that final fling. The art was just too much, its power too great, and the body could take no more. That’s possibly a thing. What Valeryan did was different. This is simply the title of her latest release. Up to a point, it is more literal than you might imagine…

She sings of boyds. Wild boyds flying free, to be precise. It is beautiful and frankly strangely refreshing in this world of “Gonna go to the club; take some pills; slit my wrists cos I’m so motherf**king depressed” – it gets a little grating and tiresome after a while… Sometimes I don’t want to be screamed at by some annoying little copycat attention seeker – call me old fashioned. So, boyds it is. Valeryan sings of the happy part of a bird’s life, but then she zones in on the swan. This swan having led a contented life – save the odd annoying little kid – sees that it is reaching its final days. It just knows, and it starts to croon. The other birds cry in apprehensive mourning as they wave their wings; a final goodbye. But although ‘Swan Song’ is literal at first, it then migrates for the winter, towards something closer to our own home. For we are not boyds. We are humen. Sorry, I pity the foreigners using Google Translate to read my articles. I mean Birds. I mean Humans. I just like to make my own woyds from toym to toym. The bridge of the song suggests that death is not always something that simply comes at the end of one’s life. It can sever life when in its prime, which can be brought on by human tampering. Malaria – sorry, I call her Malaria in private (long story), and was about to talk about diseases – Valeryan mentions bird flu, SARS and CoViD. All manmade meddling. This is the point where the song goes deeper, and there is fault involved. Suddenly it is a “nature vs man” theme. Always complicated.

So, the song begins as a neutral narrative with a somber undertone. Then we go full-on depression and blame. But finally we end up with a more positive outlook. “Sure, millions caught the bird flu, but millions more remain” – always look on the bright side of life. She then suggests that we shouldn’t worry that we might get ill and die, but instead that we should just make the most of life. I was lucky enough to hear the demo of ‘Swan Song’ and when I first latched on to “Sure, millions caught the bird flu”, I heard “John Williams caught the bird flu”, but that is neither here nor there. Musically speaking, the song is a joy. A sad joy, but a joy. Valeryan has a voice like no other. It has experience, grace, and yes, age. But age is not a thing of shame, but a thing of pride! This fine lady has lived through years that most of us have only read about or been told about – complete with all the exaggerated yarns. She has also experienced the many sides of the music biz through all its peaks and valleys – complete with the exaggerated yarns. But now, she lives a quiet life in the English countryside with its acres of land, complete with the exaggerated barns. Valeryan has a voice of wisdom. It drips with an age of long ago. A time of tales and rumour. Like the lyrics, her voice is refreshing but also genuine. She isn’t just copying artists from decades ago. Because she WAS one of those artists from decades ago. She was part of the first wave of 60s singer-songwriters. As to the music itself, it all just flows with refined satisfaction. You may be surprised what you manage to pick out from repeated listens.

Despite the song’s title I’m happy to report that this song is NOT the last from Valeryan, for I have heard that she is currently working on the next. I must admit, I was a tad concerned when I saw the title of the song, and bearing in mind that she is no spring chicken herself… But no. Life goes on, and so will the songs. We must ALL keep going and not lose faith. We must continue to make; to create. Even in the smallest ways. Otherwise there isn’t a great deal of point in being around.

The next time a bird poops on your head, make sure to mutter “fowl foul”. It might get you through the trauma.

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 on Instagram HERE!

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Hire Charles to produce/mix/master your song HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 – 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚

Charles celebrates his 300th article…

Can you explain what it means to have hit the big time? I mean, what exactly IS “the big time”…? Most people call it fame. Although there is certainly often an element of fame, it definitely isn’t the only factor. I think it’s much more. For example, someone fresh out of university will have high aspirations to be the best in their field; but of course, it doesn’t begin that way. We all start small (unless you got a lucky leg-up from daddy), and then over time we climb the ladder, promotion after promotion, pay rise after pay rise, always with that shiny goal in mind: the big time. The top! Some people don’t want the big time. Others tell themselves they don’t want the big time, because deep down inside they know they’re not good enough to ever hit the big time. Or they’re too lazy to attempt it. The big time is not for everyone. For some, the big time is more localised; more of a private affair. Like turning from a boy into a man. Or having a family. Or finally finishing War and Peace (now you can call yourself a well-read intellectual – you’re still not, by the way). I see “the big time” as a mission. One’s own mission…

Over the last six years, EYE have had my own little mission; and it’s certainly not what you might think… I like to think of it as a scheme. A perfectly choreographed scheme involving planning, research and one heck of a lot of patience. And it starts with an admission. Not an admission of guilt, for I feel none of it, but an admission nevertheless. The admission is this. I have been lying to you. Yes, each and every one of you has been lied to. I have been using my articles to gather your comments. Through your comments I have been given access to your accounts. Through these accounts I have snaked through to your personal computers and phones. Through your computers and phones I have managed to garner pretty much every piece of information about you. But most importantly, your bank account details. Yes, even those little digits on the back of the card that give me full access. And of course, your emails. Your precious emails and texts that allow me to see into your soul. Basically, unless you do as I say, I own you. THIS was my mission.

Huh. You think you know someone! I’m aware this might come as rather an uncomfortable shock, and for that I am truly sorry. The thing is, I’m lying. The extent of my hacking ability amounts to successfully logging into my own banking app. For me that’s an achievement in itself. So, just to be clear, everything in the previous paragraph was a complete lie. When it comes to data theft, I wouldn’t know where to start. But most importantly, I wouldn’t try, because I would never want to do this. Lying makes me feel sick – whether it’s me doing the lying or it’s me having been lied to. Even this brief little lie right now just to make you jump then release with relief, was uncomfortable for me. But hell, it was fun. I did have a genuine, quiet, unsaid mission though, and today this mission has finally been achieved…

My mission was to get to 300. Yes, 300 articles (let’s be real, they’re articles, not reviews). This mission was so subtle, that I hadn’t even thought about how long this would take me, despite it being a rather simple sum. About 50 in a year. About 6 years. For me it was simply “Can you get to 300?”… It was a completely arbitrary number – utterly without meaning or reason – but it felt doable. Just about… Bear in mind that I basically set aside an entire day every single week for writing these things, so that’s 300 days spent writing these things. God, think what else I could have been doing!! But the thing is, I don’t think anything I could have been doing would have been as fulfilling, satisfying, interesting, educational, enlightening, revealing, enriching and enjoyable as this. It has almost become my main art form (or creative compulsion) – which I do not actually like. I do not like that it has become what I am known for. I need to get back to making music. It’s supposed to be my raison d’être. So bloody well do it!! And I will, I will. But I don’t want to swap one for another. I want to do both. In the pre-fame days of The Beatles, they used to chant to each other, “What are we gonna be? Bigger than Elvis!”… It wasn’t long until they achieved this seemingly impossible feat. Did they then disband and choose another profession? Of COURSE not. They sought out more goals while maintaining all previous achievements. And they smashed every last one of them. I want to keep getting better. Once one mission is complete, we don’t want to just put it in a box and die. I will of course be continuing my weekly musings, but I will add to this. I will try to work out what my next mission is to be. 300, though… Cor! I feel quite shiny. I’m still slightly amazed that I managed to keep going every week for 6 years. There’s something about quantity that shows one’s quality is not short-lived, or even a fluke. The most important thing for me is standards. It always has been. And – I hope – always will be. I have never seen the point in doing less than one’s very best. “When you got a job to do, you gotta do it well” – thank you, Paul McCartney. He then sang “You gotta give the other fella hell”… Well, I feel I’ve done that too. Say live and let die!

A quick(ish) aside, because I can. I would like all of you to look at your own work, your own music, objectively. I would like you to be honest with yourselves. The song you’ve written, is it the kind of thing that you would like to listen to if given the choice of all the music in the world? Is it boring? Is it interesting? Does it do enough? How’s about your singing? CAN you sing? Are you giving it enough gusto? How’s your tone? How’s your tuning? When it comes to production, do you know what you’re doing, or are you just doing what you’ve always done? And was that ever quite right in the first place? How does that production compare with the rest of the music you’ve listened to? And finally, the sound… Does your sound completely fall off a cliff when put side by side with the rest of whatever music you’ve been enjoying your entire life? All of this is not meant to depress you. It is supposed to excite you. If you’ve been completely honest with yourself and you see nothing but excellence, then this alone is enough to excite. You have made it. You are brilliant. You have hit the big time! If, however, you are starting to see flaws and holes, look into the future. You can be better. You WILL be better. Strive and strive further. If you feel you’re out of your depth but you know it could be improved, allow me to drag you into the shallow end, wipe your brow and alleviate the burden. This is what I do for a living. I know all about this stuff. I can be of service to you. Before you hit the big time, “hit me up”! Yes, that’s a shameless plug, by hey – 300, baby!

Oh, and stop the HAL (A.I.) junk. It’s not interesting, it’s not fun, and it’s not you. I also suspect that even YOU are bored with it. And of COURSE you are. It’s a gimmick. It gives you zero sense of achievement, because you haven’t actually achieved a thing. But also, it’s a lie. And no one likes being lied to. 300, baby. 300. Phew!

For old times’ sake, let’s have a review. This week’s winner is someone who has never appeared here before, but it’s also someone who has wandered through my “maybe list” a total of 5 times. And had it not been for healthy competition from other brilliant artists, they would probably have appeared here several times. Who dat? It’s Australia’s Ashstone, with their latest single, ‘Big Time’. Ashstone isn’t a band, but just one man. I could call him Lester (for that is his name), but he seems to call himself Big Les. Entirely separate from 90s UK band (featuring Keith Allen, Damien Hirst and Blur’s Alex James), Fat Les. Let’s talk about Big Les, then. Well, I think that about wraps that up. I have no information except that he is from Canberra. But I don’t mind because he makes music. I have more experience in music than big Australians. When it comes to ‘Big Time’, its lyrical meaning is less what I explained above, and more simply a feeling. The feeling of freedom and happiness. Let’s face it, these days this more than constitutes the big time! Being able to breathe and smile simultaneously (neither through gritted teeth) is very much such an achievement. Or at least it certainly feels that way. And Big Les’ easy way of singing suggests he’s already hit his big time. Oh, by the way, don’t pay any attention to the lyrics on Apple Music: they seem to be erroneous, potentially being the words for another song entirely. Yes, it confused me too…

To describe Ashstone’s music is both easy and hard. Correction, it is relatively easy to describe the music, but hard to explain why I like it. The music itself is a kind of flowing soulful rocky poppy vibe of average tempo, with warm retro guitars and strong, calming bass. But ultimately that sounds a bit dull. And really, this music should be quite dull. There are however various artists and bands that I really go for, and I can’t quite explain why. I mean ones that I really LOVE. One band I have been listening to for 25 years, only in this past month have I really realised that I love their music. No, that’s not quite right. I have always really gone for them, but have never thought of them as being one of my favourite bands. I never really think of them at all, to be honest. I don’t really understand it. I love them and have known all their music intimately, but at the same time I have never really acknowledged that I have such a deep appreciation for them. That band is The Strokes. I was addicted to their first album – literally, I felt guilty for not playing it. Then I was obsessed with the second album. Then Juicebox changed my life. And they just never let me down. That is, until the absolutely horrific autotune used across the whole of the new album’s vocals (it literally sounds like an error in the mixing process) – thankfully, this community has never really been afflicted by autotune. But aside from this tuning blip, I now hold them as close as any of my other favourite bands. Like a load of teddy bears on my bed that I refuse to let go of. The thing is, I can’t quite explain WHY I like The Strokes so much. When listening to Ashstone – ‘Big Time’ or almost any other of his releases – I get exactly the same feeling. Something cosy and close, that’s soulful and old fashioned, but also bright and a little funky. It’s like it’s saying “everything’s okay, we’re with you, we’re just like you, everything will be all right, let’s just jam and forget about everything else”. Like The Strokes (those cheeky, stylish New York Italians), I feel I know Big Les. I also feel like I am being passed a joint by someone who never quite grew up. Making me regret having grown up (at the same time as wondering if I ever DID grow up). There’s something so unshowy about it all. So casual. So “sure, pull up a floor cushion and get groovy, man; I’ll make you some chai. Here, play with these chopsticks”.

Ashstone’s music should have quite a wide audience because of its welcoming quality. But it’s a warm welcome that manages to avoid tweeness or any kind of assumption that we’re age five and thwee kworters. The sad truth is that I don’t think many people have ever heard the music of Ashstone. As far as I am aware, Big Les has NEVER been on the NAS Top 20 chart, and I have NEVER heard anyone mention his music. I see this as the kind of music that no one is capable of disliking, no matter their preferred genre. I can see rock and pop fans liking it. I can see hip-hop and afro-beat fans liking it. I can see electronic and punk fans liking it. And yet, where is it…? Nowhere! This must be crushing for Big Les. Hence why I felt the need to do what I have been doing for many years: trying to get people’s names out there. In my eyes, anyone making great music deserves to be heard; deserves to be known about. And in my own little way, my Corner to a certain extent can provide that. But of course, I don’t talk about just any old music here, it has to be very good. Standards and all that.

Pay attention to the fullness of ‘Big Time’, despite the production’s lack of layers. It doesn’t need loads of bells and whistles. It’s all about the song, the vibe and the mixing. Proving that Les is more.

Mission complete! 300, baby.

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

As far as I can tell, Ashstone is not on Instagram or TwiX (unusual way of hitting the big time)

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