The Big Sulk
by Louisa Nicklin
Here with her second album is the quite extraordinary Louisa Nicklin, part of the touring Mermaidens and in Dimmer alongside Shayne P Carter, who produced this. Carter sets her strong, impressively flexible voice in generously spacious locations to allow for Nicklin’s dramatic folk (The Highs), ambitious art music in the manner of Jeff Buckley (Can’t See) and the liberation of white-knuckle post-punk experimentalism (guitars unleashed on the wail of The Shroud).
Nicklin – with an honours degree in contemporary classical composition – brings a rare daring to her work: the rock gristle of the aching Thick rides a strident, repetitive rhythm; The Highs showcases her vocal grandeur and arrives with an unsettling guitar soundscape; the weary and whispery vocal of the engrossing narcoleptic mood of Sleep It Off (“I’m going to sleep it off, disappointed in myself”) sits alongside expressionist sounds from guitar, synths, drums and bass. Her voice echoes off into the ether as a sad wail.
Nicklin is an artist within rock culture but also apart from it, in a distinct domain of her own making. Deep, dark and exceptional.
It’s All Downhill From Here
by Dateline
Katie Everingham is a talent magnet whose Dateline band has – over two albums and a few singles – pulled in members of Hans Pucket, Lips, The Beths, Dick Move and French for Rabbits, as well as Priya Sami (of Sami Sisters) and multi-instrumentalist Sean Martin-Buss.
Doubtless, they’re drawn by her smart pop of discrete and distinctive songs, which come with the rough edges of indie rock, touches of folk rock and often canny observations.
Dateline’s 2022 debut album had the self-deprecating title Dumb For My Age (“when will I learn?”) and songs included Don’t Know What To Do With Me and Country Rock Emo (“the good days are few and far between”).
This new album arrives with a similarly wry title (the opener is the New Wave pop of Please Knock Me Out) and delivers classic indie rock on the instantly likeable, previously released singles Be Good and Choose Me (the latter long-listed for the APRA Silver Scroll Award).
Everingham taps the spirit and sound of mid-1960s guitar pop (Leaves), 90s indie rock (Broken Knees knowingly nods to Nirvana) and thoughtful acoustic folk (Wake Up Slowly). With Dateline, she brings the melodic into the same space as the assertive.
This accomplished album – which sounds like a collection of singles – includes short, interpolated snatches of studio banter with a lot of laughter.
Katie Everingham sounds like good company to keep.
Yoyotta
by Molly Payton
Opening her debut with the self-pitying Asphalt (“I forgot to eat breakfast for the third day in a row”), this London-based expat announces a strong dose of emo and psychic damage on songs that are cathartic and confessional, having been a teenager in the cruel or indifferent music business.
Her father went to prison and she deals with that, too, notably in the seething title track where abrasive guitars carry barely suppressed rage and disappointment: “When I visited you, you couldn’t look me in the eye. Time’s been cruel to you and I guess so have I. I can’t stand to see you hurt even after what you’ve done.”
Payton works some familiar furrows here: grungy pop-framed rock on Accelerate and emotions worn on the skin on A Hand Held Strong: “It’s the little things that keep me going. Cups of coffee, walks alone, a hand held strong, a kiss dealt softly. Friends who stay when you need them most.”
Themes include wanting to arrest impending adulthood (Thrown Over, with “every day I’m getting older I wish that things went slower”) and post-adolescent confusion (“my head’s a teenage bedroom floor”), common enough sentiments at her age.
But with an album that’s a step up and an emotional clearing house, she’s on her way somewhere.
You glean that from the insightful Get Back to You: “I’ve been a little bit listless, tried to put some distance between myself and the past. But sometimes it comes up to greet me and it kisses me sweetly, then ties me to the mast of a ship floating softly through memory, tipping ever so gently until it starts to sink. Then I’m recalling that feeling of falling, all those times he pushed me over the brink.”
Your average emo-saturated teenager doesn’t work a metaphor like that.
Incidentally, the album title is an acronym of “You’re on your own this time, again”.
She sounds confident enough being out there.
These albums are available digitally. The Dateline album is also on vinyl.
Louisa Nicklin tour: Double Whammy, Auckland, September 20.
