There are lots of wonderful things about writing for 20JFG. One of which is getting emails from musicians all over the world. These emails are special; not your ordinary black text on a white background, couple of links and then a signature. No, these emails take over your week and lead you to send unsolicited mails to co-conspirators, boasting of hidden delights.
Odd Rumblings got in touch last week. Ostensibly about Angelo Badalamenti (which you’ll perhaps hear below). It doesn’t actually matter of course. We listen to most things that manage to survive the web of filters we’ve sent up to protect that precious inbox. We’d never heard their music, never spoke to them before and it’s been many, many years since we’ve been to Brooklyn. But here we are devoting our evenings to proselytising on their behalf. Email is a wonderful thing.
Odd Rumblings got in touch last week. Ostensibly about Angelo Badalamenti (which you’ll perhaps hear below). That matters a great deal. You like what I like and maybe I’ll like what you make. A series of mutually reinforced connections extending out and hopefully avoiding hardening into a cocoon. A couple of people living in Brooklyn happily absorbing the music that washes over us both and playing back something new.
Odd Rumblings Soundcloud is full of delights but two stand out.
Princes Spoke takes the bubbling forest Techno of Fever Ray and replaces the modulated voices with beautiful harmonies. Those voices — that almost religious sincerity — are never quite tipped into the satanic that the remorseless drum programming would like. The tension between the holy voices and the sensual machines feels like watching an alien invasion from a church. All stain glass disco balls.
The second delight is glacial. It’s a cover of Dawn Penn’s famous in the 90s but better in the 60s hit, ‘You Don’t Love Me’. At points like a weird evolutionary offshoot of recent, synth-focused Grime and RnB. At others — like the opening — you can hear that man Badalamenti: ghostly voices and dark chords. The fact that it all winds together beautifully without debasing the anguish of Penn’s original is really, quite something.
If 20JFG ever got its chat show pilot made we’d need a house band and (apart from the obvious) we’d have to look to Teeth of the Sea. Imagine those incidental comedy fills, lasting two hours, and played with the remorseless force TotS can conjure. Then back to us for the punchline to a joke forcibly erased from your mind.
They have a new album. The album sounds like the future, travelling to the past and trying to communicate with the present through the medium of apocalyptic VHS tapes left in charity shops across the UK and Germany. Chris Marker would be proud.
As a special gift to you, dear reader, you can stream the whole damn thing below.