Albums Turning 25 in ’25

As the 21st century reaches the quarter-decade mark, its time for a look back at the albums that heralded in the new millennium and have left a lasting musical impact. Here’s five of the most important records that turn 25 this year!

Kid A – Radiohead

Between 1997’s OK Computer and Kid A you can hear a millennium sized sonic shift that left many Radiohead fans bewildered. This wildly experimental LP is a far cry from the Britpop sounds of their 90s releases, and it was with this album that the enigma of Radiohead was consolidated. Cited by many of your favourite electronic artists as their favourite album, it remains as intriguing as ever 25 years on. 

The Marshall Mathers LP – Eminem 

With his third release, Slim Shady is at the height of his lyrical powers. Ringing in the new millennium with the opening ‘Public Service Announcement 2000’, with an attitude as abrasive as ever and a vocabulary just as vulgar, Eminem cemented himself as the man ‘God sent to piss the world off’. Which he did.

Parachutes – Coldplay 

It’s hard to reconcile the intergalactic-arena-soundscape of modern Coldplay with their quieter beginnings, but their debut launched the band into instant stardom. Chris Martin’s tender voice and the bands heart-string-tugging composition marked a sonic departure in British guitar music, away from the bombast of Britpop and into a more emotional age. Parachutes remains their best-selling record to date and helped usher in a new age of indie music. 

Stankonia – Outkast 

Stankonia set the bar for 21st century hip-hop Olympically high with Outkast’s funk filled medley of eccentricity, brilliantly catchy pop, and some of the most highly acclaimed lyrical delivery of all time. This was a new sound for a new millennium, and one that can be heard in countless hip-hop records of the last couple of decades. Big Boi and André 3000 at their very best. 

Hybrid Theory – Linkin Park 

The astronomic success of Linkin Park’s debut saw nu metal reach dizzying heights as the millennium began. It’s hard to think of a more raw performer than frontman Chester Bennington, who put mental health battles in the spotlight in a very profound way. Following his tragic death in 2017, the band was on hold until late last year as they returned with their eighth studio album From Zero. Extending their immense legacy into the 2020s, Hybrid Theory was the record that started it all.

Written by Joseph Macaulay

Independent Venue Week: won’t you take me to Regtown ’25?

It was born out of the blessed poetry of Lipps Inc. Had they known when they wrote ‘Funkytown’ back in 1970, that they actually proposed a culturally, spiritually, enlightened definitive question in their pulsating chorus: ‘oh won’t you take me to Regtown 2025?’ Little did they know of their influence on independent Leeds based record label Private Regcords, taking on their grandest gesture yet and booking out the entirety of Hyde Park Book Club to celebrate DIY small festivals and local talent galore.

Mr James Vardy, CEO of Private Regcords, and the puppeteer behind the 15 acts on his lineup proposed such a musical coup on the beloved student hotspot this past Independent Venue Week, in effort to celebrate a variation of local experimental, indie, art-pop, jazz and everything in between. This special day of collaboration could not have been met with a more sanctimonious response, selling out on general admission tickets and flogging T-shirts like evangelical pedlars in the freezing cold to raise funds for an awesome night. These days not many startup festivals can financially upkeep themselves, and the struggle to meet the nail biting margin for a necessary profit to continue consumes most creative projects with inaccessibility, bankruptcy and the fearful reminder of the state live music is in. So the fact that we have events like this means that our community has struck gold on its legacy for culture. 

It’s within these third spaces that musicians are not only playing to one another, but praising each other’s work in recognition of being equals on a lineup, curated by people who love local music. And not only did they party until Leeds’ City Councils temporary 2am curfew extension – oh no. If you want to get involved and continue spreading the message of DIY events, head on down every Sunday at 10am to the new Hangover Sessions in the Snug Room of Hyde Park Book Club, where the record label hosts stripped back performances as cures for your post-Saturday shenanigans. I know it cured my post-Regtown festival blues.

Written by Eszter Vida

Adult DVD. Sold Out. In The Round.

Adult DVD. Sold out. 1am start time. In the round.  

Adult DVD’s hometown gig at the Belgrave Music Hall was as chaotically energetic as anyone who is even vaguely familiar with their music could expect. ‘Yacht Money’ and ‘Hot Set’ provided the ideal start, an unapologetic blend of punchy vocals from lead singer Harry Hanson, strong riffs and as much influence from the synths as could be imagined with no less than four on stage, encapsulating in microcosm the band’s distinctive sound. Often made comparisons to LCD Soundsystem are not without merit, but only by listening to their classification defying acid/electronic/dance rock can one begin to grasp what Adult DVD are about. 

Simply put, the ‘in the round’ aspect of the gig – where the band stood in a circle essentially amongst the crowd, in an intimate ‘boiler room’ style – worked brilliantly. Perhaps the main beneficiary (apart from the crowd) was drummer Jonathan Newell; no longer relegated to the back of the stage behind a wall of equipment, the pulse Newell provided not only provided the perfect complement to the synths but deservedly took the spotlight at times.

‘7 foot 1’ and ‘Dogs In the Sun’ were both well crafted and compiled without losing the jazzy electricity that makes the band unique. They provided the perfect build up to the highlight of the night, ‘Do something’. A cacophonous soundscape as full of relentless dynamism as the rest of their music, ‘Do something’ retains lyrical sardonicism whilst being undeniably catchy. This combines to give a sense of forward motion – surely emblematic of the band’s trajectory in the coming years.

The remainder of the set basked in the playful peculiarity of the moment. It is not every day at 2AM you are stood, essentially engulfed by a dance/rock band, above an (albeit excellent) canteen in Leeds’s Northern Quarter, but as the industrious ‘Sadman Mancave’ faded into the joyfully crazy ‘Bill Murray’, it became apparent it’s something that should happen more often. 

Written by Freddie Waterland

Inhaler: Open Wide – the new era of Inhaler is here 

Inhaler; we know the score by now. Commanders of the nepo-baby debate in music, generals of the vibrant Dublin music scene, loyal servants to that glamorous indie rock and roll. A frontman who’s the son to a king of rock, imaginary boyfriend to a million fangirls. But is that where the story ends?  Following their first two full releases, the pandemic plagued It Won’t Always Be Like This (2021) and sophomore outing Cuts and Bruises (2023), the Irish four-piece have released their latest project Open Wide (2025), a passion driven exploration into love, authenticity and what the creation of music means to them. 

With two albums under their belts, Inhaler could seem set in their groove. Pick a country and they could sell out a show there, pick a song and they can play it to a rowdy and rambunctious crowd that will sing it back to them, ask them to pick a lane and a problem arises. For an artist finding ‘their sound’ is no mean feat, but one would argue that being defined by a sound and being able to subvert that in an appealing, necessary and logical way is a much meaner one (see the parting of Arctic Monkeys fans like the red sea following the conceptual Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino (2018)). Nevertheless, Inhaler have taken a deep breath (too on the nose?) and strove for this album to represent their genuine selves, even if that means outgrowing their indie-rock roots. It’s evident the group have shed their skin with this album and embraced the pop elements that encapsulate so many of their greater qualities – the infectious melodies, the catchy hook, the screamable chorus, and to call a spade a spade – this is a pop-rock album. Gone is the very loosely tied label of indie (I mean how independent can you be when signed to Polydor records), with Inhaler striving to break free from any chains being recognised as an “indie band” might thrust upon them. 

The album opens with ‘Eddie in the Darkness’- who Eddie is and what he is doing in the darkness is still unclear, but at the very least he mimics the slew of Inhaler fans entering this album in the dark. Following a series of single releases – none of which the same, all of which noticeable deviations from the band’s pre-established formula, fans were left to wonder what had become of the Irish rockers. Whilst the album is a stark departure from the quartet’s first album outing It Won’t Always Be Like This (2021), ‘Eddie in the Darkness’ eases listeners into the change, still containing notes of the Inhaler fans fell in love with a glam-rock twist, gearing them up for what is to come and as such it becomes the crux of this new era. 

If Inhaler has always known how to do one thing, it’s how to etch a catchy tune onto the grooves of your brain that infects every subsequent thought and shower concert you have (if my housemates are reading this, I can only apologise). ‘Billy (Yeah Yeah Yeah)’ and ‘A Question of You’ in particular wrap strings around your arms and legs with their shimmering guitar riffs and punchy drumbeats, puppeteering you into a bop regardless of your setting. Similarly, choruses of ‘Concrete’ and ‘Little Things’ could coax out the voice of those most quiet and scale it to the size of a choir. The groove is well and truly alive throughout the album – taking a life of its own, a life perhaps given by collaboration with Kid Harpoon. The British producer of Harry’s House (2022) fame was given the trust of Inhaler and tasked with translating their lofty pop dreams of authenticity and groove into a tight 13 track album. His influence is palpable, with several songs coming straight from his catalogue of synth-pop mega-tunes designed for the biggest stages. 

Elijah Hewson really pushes his vocal performance, squeezing every drop out of his vast vocal range, less so in the classic sense of pushing his upper limit – but instead displaying a lower timber which compliments the building verses on many a track. Drummer Ryan McMahon gives a rhythmic and tight performance which bassist Robert Keating builds upon with his bold and striking basslines. Ultimately though Josh Jenkinson, lead guitarist of the band, is the absolute standout. His lead sections ebb and flow – calling out to the listeners at exactly the right moments without overpowering the symbiosis of the final product. He is a true chameleon, dancing between genres and sifting through rhythms; with country-infused riffs on songs like ‘X-Ray’ and much funkier melodies on tracks like ‘A Question Of You’. 

This album, beyond its sonic characteristics can be defined by love- a word synonymous with Inhaler some might say. Their first ever single, ‘I Want You’, an obvious tale of youthful love, my personal favourite track of theirs, ‘Love Will Get You There’, an homage to the importance of intimacy, and their fans, well loving would be a bloody understatement (Pre-gig queueing is scheduled to be added to the next Olympics as an endurance event thanks to their questionably motivated efforts). The band’s latest outing is no different with love being the key tenant of most songs. The lyrical direction of the album has devotion and adoration brimming at the surface and there’s an easy thread of passion to follow throughout the project, giving listeners an immediate and heartfelt connection to the songs. ‘Your House’ and ‘The Charms’ in particular capture this passion in their lyrics- calling out to many a hopeless romantic who may be hearing this album in (a potentially) bleak mid-February. 

Open Wide (2025) depicts Inhaler at the peak of their powers. Gone is that youthful naivety of an accused nepo-baby indie band and in its place – a charismatic and poised pop-rock authenticity that serves as a statement of intent. A statement of intent of a band who have cultivated their sound and are ready to show it off on the biggest stage.  Prying the love of that good ol’ indie music from the tight grips of the wild diehard Inhaler fan is no easy feat, but the Dublin four-piece have dug their claws in and ripped the arms of their legion of admirers open wide, ready to embrace their new era. 

Written by Dan Brown

Kyle Reviews Addison Rae’s New Drop Because We Are Nothing Without Our Stereotypes

You know me, Reader. I was lay (boyfriend’s bed, the Cuatro Torres just visible out the window, it’s Valentine’s Day, he’s at work, God it’s so hard), thinking (slightly hungover, freshly cut hair, 3 espressos deep, dodging the cumstain on my pillow) about whether to snatch an arbitrary line from Marx’s Grundrisse or Sedgwick’s Epistemology of the Closet to feign informed sociological analysis of Addison Rae’s new single, ‘High Fashion’, and in doing so fraudulently intellectualise the fact that I froth-at-the-mouth-rabidly support this woman’s current trajectory. I was lay (I am lay) in these sheets, and you may think this introduction promises my resignation from this formula, BUT IT DOES NOT. Self-awareness does not necessitate moral puritanism, Reader. I am nothing if not a proselyte. And I might add: if any number of novels can establish status via epigraph, then so shall I. Without further ado…. Ben Lerner’s 2014 novel (one of my all-time favourites) is preceded by the following epigraph:

“The Hassidim tell a story about the world to come that says everything there will be just as it is here. Just as our room is now, so it will be in the world to come; where our baby sleeps now, there too it will sleep in the other world. And the clothes we wear in this world, those too we will wear there. Everything will be as it is now, just a little different.”

This motif of “everything as it is now, just a little different” is echoed throughout the text, and comes to involve itself with ideas of intertextuality, representation, and authorship. To what point can anyone truly author anything, if the cultural artefact produced results from a centuries-long interpersonal means of production through which you learned the necessary skills and gleaned the necessary inspiration to be moved to make such an artefact? The Hassidic story itself is one Lerner says that he first happened upon in Agamben, but that is usually attributed to Walter Benjamin, who critics note heard it from Gershom Scholem. Maybe the sum of all things in the world-to-come, despite the new meshings of old influences and processes, is, as the story proposes, as it is now. Maybe, if we do not think of the “everything” as “every single thing” and instead visualise it as the holistic “everything of now” versus the “everything of then”, we realise that everything will indeed be as it is now, because the sum of all things will still weigh the same, in grams if not in cultural weight. All we do is reshape, remesh, rewind and press play. 

Stay with me. If we suspend our disbelief, this means that, no, your housemate was not the first housemate to piss himself in Wharf Chambers. No, the Leeds Swimming Society was not the first swimming society to play soggy biscuit. And I’m sorry, I really am, but you and your friends were not the first ones to find that bench on the hill behind Meanwood Valley Farm that overlooks the city. I know someone who shat there. But even if you and your group of friends were the West Yorkshire conquistadors that you imagined, my point is none of it would be really new! The soggy biscuit would simply be the incidental next iteration of thousands of years of rancid biscuit-based tests of character. I am sure that Henry VIII was the sorest loser of soil’d bisquite that 1503 ever saw. 

Circling back, though, you have likely inferred at this point that this is a setup for me to defend Addison Rae against plagiarism allegations. You wouldn’t be far off. “High Fashion”, a whisper-falsetto track that stings against a thick, layered synth instrumentation, definitely recalls “Fetish”-era Selena Gomez (2017) and Ariana Grande’s “Let Me Love You” and “Touch It” (2016). Likewise, Rae’s first and second singles from her upcoming debut pulled generously from pop of the last 20 years, with “Diet Pepsi” (2024) drawing comparison to early Lana Del Rey and “Aquamarine”’s (2024) glittery production pointing to Madonna’s Ray of Light (1998) and American Life (2003). And these are not baseless comparisons; Rae’s existing discography undeniably rehashes pop music as it has been established thus far, almost as an agenda. 

But in truth, I do not find it convincing that this makes her a copycat any more than it makes her a ‘student’ of the culture. The music itself, combined with the concomitant imagery she has released alongside it, betrays (at least to me) a concerted effort to be seen making a concerted effort to be a popstar. Whether it’s the performative, almost histrionic hypersexuality in her music videos; the ill-fitting, dress-up style outfits; the brownnosing of Charli XCX; the bubblegum-blowing on the cover of her debut EP; the OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES (2018) jumper; or the stylish, eyebrowless accessory that she has made of choreographer Lexee Smith, to me this rebrand screams popstar-plays-girl-desparate-to-be-popstar. It is the ouroboros!!! And dare I say it is, for the Aquama-ra-ra bitch, a foolproof ploy.

Medidate on this. A Tiktok darling of the universally-hated “Renegade” epoch, Addison had no doubt seen the vicious reception of ‘serious’ attempts at music by her fellows (colleagues? contemporaries?) and herself (see: “Obsessed” (2021)). She (and her team, I’m sure) would have known that a transition to popstar would be no mean feat, and to circumvent this, the (I’ll say it) genius move was to make her entire brand a satirisation of her own position in the media-sphere. If she were to play the part of a wide-eyed, fame-hungry protegé of Charli and Troye Sivan, both explicitly in the kitsch, frenzy, and referentiality of her music videos and more convincingly in paid-for paparazzi shots and dazed-and-confused red carpet interviews, any negative reception she received for the awkwardness of her reorientation towards music would be suffused into the self-consciously artificial, fawning persona she had marketed. She would set up a relationship with the public in which criticism is negated and instead relegates itself to fluffing up her own polemacy, and those on either cognitive side of those who criticise (those who consume the product without any level of interrogation, and those who enjoy the art of the charade itself) will praise her relentlessly (see: me). 

The proof is in the pudding – the numbers Addison is pulling right now are nothing to be sniffed at. On Spotify, “Aquamarine” sits at 32 million streams, and “Diet Pepsi” at a mammoth 292 million. Beyond this, Rae is fraternising with any number of established popstars (Lorde, Rosalía, etc.) while simultaneously gesturing at relationships with more esoteric figures such as Arca. She’s walking the tightrope well because she has erected neon billboards pointing at the tightrope and just how thin it is. 

As far as I’m concerned, “High Fashion” and it’s (anything but) coke-fuelled visuals has one foot (pun intended) planted in Addison’s hallmark please-don’t-make-me-sing! kitsch and the other firmly in an ambition to innovate, through however many layers of metacommentary. Disjointed, vapid lyrics (I know I’m drunk, but…”) poorly solder a number of pop clichés together (‘couture’, libido, uppers, exhibitionism). They make the track fodder for off-the-bat criticism à la Artpop (2014), but the poor lyrical execution is juxtaposed against an unexpectedly complex, hazy instrumental which weaves in and out of the vocal performance and, during drops, cracks open into EDM-adjacent texture. The track’s video, too, plays with garish colour, visual allusion, and forced perspective, meshing together images of Addison as a chalk-covered gymnast, Oz’s Dorothy, and a closet fashionista literally playing dress up. It’s frenetic, but it’s notably more thought-out than the lyrics. The work put into the track’s music video and production problematise an assessment of the lyrics that dismisses them as thoughtless or manufactured. 

For if ‘manufactured’ is the intention, what is the logic behind it? Stirring controversy for publicity? Or holding a mirror up to the pop that we’ve been listening to uncritically for the last couple of decades? If Addison, the total newcomer to ‘serious’ art, she who is easiest to critique, decides to gut her lyrics of meaning, does this not reinscribe the words sung with words implied? Words that ask us how deep the lyrics of pop we admit as enjoyable actually are. The song she has produced, whether or not its lyricism is justified by the modalities attached to it, is just as the songs we accept are, but a little different. A little different in source, a little different in frankness regarding influences, a little different in its relationship with sincerity. But by writing a mirror instead of an image itself, this music encourages us to review what we consider good or original art, our acceptance of a world-to-come that does not invent its meaning machines but simply reboots them, and our own media literacy. 

Written by Kyle Galloway

In Conversation with The Murder Capital: No words have lost meaning here for upcoming album Blindness

Millie Cain chats to The Murder Capital’s Cathal Roper discussing their forthcoming 3rd album, their tour with Nick Cave, and independent record stores. 

Blindness, The Murder Capital’s stormy 3rd album opens with an older track, Moonshot’, that Cathal described as a “wall of sound, it wasn’t a song we had worked on really. James already had played it on acoustic – we wanted to open the record with a drop on the needle. Gigi [2nd Album, Gigi’s Recovery (2023)] is very cinematic, with a lot of world building in that. A lot of our fave records you press play and it just starts right – and ‘Moonshot’ really does that.” 

Ahead of Blindness’ 21st February release, they’ve released 3 singles, most standout being ‘Words Lost Meaning’. “Gabe had the bassline, he was having an argument with his girlfriend at the time and came out with that and it just so happened that when James put lyrics down that it was in the same vein – weird coincidence. We wrote that in Dublin, and it didn’t change much except the 3rd verse, with building guitars. It felt like a single straight away, the others weren’t as clear. ‘Words Lost Meaning’ felt like it was going to do what a single has to do.” 

Huge anticipation awaits their forthcoming tour, starting with record shops up and down the UK, then a headline April tour. This is off the back of The Murder Capital’s coveted support slot touring with Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds at the end of last year. “Nick Cave – it was lovely, we got to have dinner with him one night, very nice and honest man, pretty funny. He’s an incredible performer, and we got to perform songs from Blindness that we hadn’t played.”

In terms of Blindness as an album, The Murder Capital have taken a step away from the concentrated structure of Gigi’s Recovery (2023). ”Gigi’s was heavily demoed, and Blindess was less so, honestly it was done on purpose. Gigi didn’t really grow much in the studio from what we already had, getting together with John [Congleton] we wanted to go to the studio and all the songs to change and grow. Things were so rigid with Gigi – we wanted that growth.”

“It honestly feels like funnily enough a merge of the first 2 records, there was such a reaction to the first one that we didn’t want to do anything to the first one, we were almost insecure about it representing all of us. And Gigi’s was so cinematic and world building that we missed the urgency of the first record, but we missed the texture. Blindness is more confident, self assured, in ourselves and our sound and makes the first record make a bit more sense too.”

“We had rehearsals last week for these instores, we played ‘Moonshot’ together for the first time. We had all recorded it separately on the last day of recording and it was all mixed together by John, so it was really good to see it come together.”

Alongside the Record Store Tour, The Murder Capital are hitting tons of independent venues in April, including the Brudenell on the 21 and 22nd. In terms of focusing on these venues, Cathal relayed how they chose the stops for their tour with “a conversation between us and our agent, I love the Brudenell. Nathan who runs it always really looks after us too so we’re so excited to play there again.” 

A favourite on the album for Cathal is ‘Train On The Wing’. “I’m excited for people to hear it, it’s a more laid back song and more of the sort of stuff I’ve been playing since I was 16, and ‘Swallow’ as well. The guitar work there is an Irish traditional approach I went for – yeah I’m just really happy with how it turned out.” 

Blindness itself was a theme of the record “it feels like a good word for all the topics that are discussed on the records. How do we encompass these? It’s generally about introspection, looking inside yourself, what makes the decisions and reactions you have and how that manifests itself out in the world. It’s a focus on your peripheral vision, the abstract of the everyday and blindness felt like the perfect word for that.”

For album 3, The Murder Capital leant into their influences of The Cure and The Velvet Underground. “James was really into a phase of Suicide (1977), for myself I was listening to a lot of Big Thief. I love Adrianne Lenker and everything she does. And this great record by Cameron Winter called Heavy Metal – that record he did is incredible, it has me in tears a lot of the time. That song ‘Drinking Age’ is probably one of the best songs  – I really hope that record blows up more.” As do we, as Heavy Metal was certainly a standout 2024 album, if not a generational one. 

The Murder Capital’s 3rd Album Blindness will be available on Friday 21st February 2025, and will be on tour at Brudenell 21st & 22nd April 2025. 

Written by Millie Cain

The Next Service to Depart from Platform 1 is The Brian Jonestown Massacre Express 

The Brian Jonestown Massacre have long had a divisive reputation as a live act. The more than thirty members who have come and gone over the last thirty-five years are testimony to the internal frictions that have given Anton Newcombe and co. such notoriety. In 2023, they made headlines for an onstage brawl culminating in Newcombe’s wielding of a guitar against one of his bandmates. It was with some trepidation, therefore, that I crossed to the other side of the tracks and ventured to the Leeds Beckett Student Union. 

I have never been at a gig quite like it. The band take to the stage, denim-clad, feather-hat-sporting, and with heavily tinted sunglasses, no doubt to hide the countless nervous glances fired Newcombe’s way. He takes his place and flicks over the first page of his laminated lyric book. We wait with bated breath. The band waits for their leader’s cue. A subtle nod of the head, and this psychedelic steam train heaves into motion. For the next two hours, we ride tracks of hypnotic guitar noise, layers of tambourine and head-jerking percussion, and the cool vocals of this hazy locomotive’s crackpot conductor. 

We plunge through musical landscapes. At times, more concrete forms of a pop riff or vocal hook swim into view before plunging back into the foggy horizon, all the while punctuated by a steady tambourine groove that reminds you that you haven’t yet derailed. Among these landmarks are the likes of ‘Anemone’, the band’s most famous and accessible tune, that washes over the spectator in an effortless wave of rhythm and jangling guitar lines. ‘When Jokers Attack’ and ‘Pish’ stand out too, but all blend into a backdrop of blissful psychedelic groove, a ride so smooth that it does sometimes leave passengers slipping into a lethargic doze, though never ceasing in gently nodding their heads. 

Songs begin to feel amorphous, and I do find myself seeking some auditory refreshment. Moments later, and a slick bassline or guitar line pulls me back in. There’s a kind of musical game of cat and mouse at play here, where Anton Newcombe lounges in his own brilliant, startling, divine genius and at the point where you want to shout something at him just to snap yourself out of his spell, in another masterful stroke he beats you to it and says, “look at this!” and blows your mind. 

As the train rounds the final bend, the Brian Jonestown Massacre vista is wide open for all to see. They are self-indulgent, their songs do kind of sound the same, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t help but be drawn in by their hypnotic rhythms and softly spoken rhymes. And as I am about to be lulled into a deep sleep, the final track proves a final twist in the tale. The sitar backed melody of ‘Super – Sonic’ evokes The Beatles’ ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’. It’s swirling and disarming, thoroughly enchanting. Now, this I could listen to forever. 

I think I’m about to attain nirvana. I’m on the brink of the abyss. I’m flying, floating, endlessly, blissfully…

Then the song finishes and the lights come on in the Beckett Student Union, where this service terminates.

How did we get to the edge of the world? Brooke Combe in interview  

For an artist, finding their sound can be as difficult a task as any, but through returning to her roots, embracing her authenticity and having an innate ability for contemporary soul songwriting, Brooke Combe has irrefutably defined herself as a must hear. Ahead of the release of her debut album, Dancing At The Edge Of The World, I chatted with Combe to delve deeper into the album’s meaning, her songwriting process and just how we got to the edge of the world in the first place.  

Immediately the apocalyptic title grabs you and pulls you in, with the story of its origin mimicking the authenticity Combe displays across the album.  

“There was a book that my producer James Skelly was reading about Marilyn Monroe’s life, and someone described Marilyn as so beautiful, she seemed like she was dancing on the edge of the world. James brought that to me, and I thought “at” was better and pretty fitting for what I was going through at Island Records because I finally felt free, and the chains were gone, giving me full artistic freedom. So yeah, it just felt very fitting for that time. It’s quite beautiful.”  

The shedding of skin is evident from the prelude to the final note of the title track closer, but this newfound Brooke Combe is not so newfound for Combe herself.  

“It’s been recorded for a year now. We did it last January so I’m just desperate for people to hear it, have their opinions on it and I’ve already got album two on the brain now.”  

Looking to the future is where Combe thrives, with the final single for the album ‘This Town’ being an anthem for small town dreamers who just can’t be contained. An infectious guitar riff and painfully genuine lyricism play their parts in a contemporary soul masterpiece, which channels the voice of Dalkeith’s finest.  

“For a few years my manager was asking me to try and write a song about home and he wanted it to have Scottish characteristics or something personal like a street name near mine and I was struggling with that, it just didn’t feel right at the time. Then when the album was almost finished, we still needed more types of tunes. My producer gave me some chords, I didn’t love them, but there were a few chords in the progression that I thought could work, so I started messing about and noodling on that. Then, I got on my girls group chat going, “Right girls what do you think about the boys from Dalkeith” and they came back with, “spice boys, still living with their mum, sun beds” and things like that and I basically just put it all together and it just worked.”  

As glowing as these character references are for the men of Dalkeith, comfort can be found by them in knowing they’re immortalised in as catchy a song as you can find. The track is indebted to Combe’s time in Dalkeith, a debt repaid by Combe returning to the streets of her hometown to film the single’s music video.  

“It was bittersweet. I’m proud to be Scottish and I’m proud to be from where I’m from. I think being from a small town shapes you in a lot of ways and gives you a lot of different ambitions that maybe somebody in a city might not have. I also don’t want the people where I’m from thinking that I hate them, so we were trying to find that balance and I think we smashed that. It was very low budget and felt small town.”  

Combe’s pride in her roots is apparent, both in her words in this interview and the authenticity she lets shine in her music. Whilst her passions and drive led her to make that jump out of Scotland, her music remains a constant irrespective of geography.  

[In response to ‘is your songwriting affected by your location?’] “I’ll be honest, I think not really. I’m pretty much somebody who just goes for what they’re feeling in the moment. I like being at home [Dalkeith] because there’s a lot more space i.e. field, forestry, reservoirs, the lot. So, I like having my downtime to give me the headspace to think about what kind of songs I want to write. The last project was very circumstantial the way I wrote that in terms of it being about what my dad was going through and seeing him go through struggles. I think it will be interesting this year as I’m hoping to buy a house in Liverpool so it will be interesting to see how my circumstances play into that.”  

The emotional principles Combe has used to craft her sound are cultivated both in isolation with her guitar and collaboration in the studio, allowing her to balance both emotionally deep lyrics and incredibly groovy melodies. When asked on the role of both, she had this to say:  

“I think musically its quite 50-50, actually maybe not 50-50, maybe 60-40, but it is the music which gives it that soul and funkiness. We recorded it as a live band like how all my favourite old bands from Motown did it so that creates the sound. On top of that, I think with the songwriting, specifically on songs like ‘This Town’, I tried to write it more souly with the groove and lyrics, whereas with a song like ‘Dancing At The Edge Of The World’ I wouldn’t necessarily say the melody or lyrics [are funky]- but you can put them into soul. It’s more the track that comes with it being sort of cinematic.”  

This sonic prowess has helped craft a variety of tunes across the album all with their own edge, however there is one which Combe is particularly eager to give to the masses.  

“The song is called ‘Butterfly’. It goes into escapism; the good, the bad, the ugly, plus it was a completely different writing style for me. My vocals don’t sound like me basically, I’m using a lot more of my top voice, my falsetto, so I’m really really excited for people to hear it.”  

Whilst the album is a brilliant trip down the avenue that is modern soul, Combe refuses to be defined by her production alone, boasting a stellar knack for live performance. This ability has already led her to play some of Leeds’ biggest stages such as Leeds Festival in 2022, O2 academy and her personal favourite, a sold-out Brudenell.  

“On the tour, we had to reschedule that show, as when we first got there and set up my agents said they didn’t want me to sing out of fear I’d mess up my voice [due to strains she had at the time] and so we had to cancel. So, we rescheduled and came back and that left us in the old room on this tiny stage, but it was class. The fans and the crowd were just great.”  

Combe returns to Leeds in April to play Project House on her Dancing At The Edge Of The World tour and her debut album of the same name comes out January 31st. 

Written by Dan Brown

Folk-pop perfection: Katy J Pearson transcends genre boundaries at Leeds Irish Centre

If you haven’t made it to Leeds Irish Centre yet, you have to take a look at their What’s On page and head on over. The very least you can expect is to enjoy the 1970s living room decor with a perfect pint of Guinness in hand. Pair that with a feel-good gig like Katy J Pearson, and it’s a perfect evening. I arrived knowing a few of her tracks but by the time I left, I felt like I’d just been to one of the best gigs of my life so far. Since I got back to my flat that night, her new album Someday, Now (2024) is one I played repeatedly until the end of term. 

Glancing at the merch table as I entered the venue, I was surprised to spot beautifully handmade brooches and trinkets with the label: ‘ALL JEWELLERY HANDMADE BY DANA GAVANSKI’ written in black Sharpie. I turned to face the stage to see Gavanski perched on a chair, acoustic guitar on lap, singing to an audience surprisingly quiet for a support act (a respectful hush which is, unfortunately, all too rare). I moved closer and enjoyed her final few songs of the evening. Looking around at the crowd – a mix of older and younger people, friends and families, it was clear that Gavanski’s synthy indie pop and almost mournful vocals was enough to charm those awaiting Pearson. 

Katy J Pearson and band impressed with a set list that encompassed her discography so far, interspersed with songs from the newest release Someday, Now (2024). They began with the album opener ‘Those Goodbyes’ followed by two tracks from earlier records, by which time Pearson and her band had established an atmosphere of joy. They all seemed chuffed to be there and I wondered if this was the feeling they create and share every evening? It felt unique to the room that night, though the on-stage rapport was familiar and extended to the rest of the room. This mutual enjoyment between musicians and crowd made for a night of unexpected comedy. With jokes being shared and shouted across the room (a particular mention goes to witty guitarist Benjamin Saunders and Katy herself) meant that at one point, the friend I was with whispered to me, ‘Is this a gig or a stand-up set?’.

Despite a strong pop influence in Katy J Pearson’s music, the depth to her tone and lyrical ability amplified as she manipulated her voice and setlist to direct the gig toward a more melancholic, contemplative state. Pearson signposted this shift with a cover of Vashti Bunyan’s ‘Winter is Blue’. The themes of Bunyan’s music, along with the finger-plucking guitar led her perfectly into ‘Return’, from Pearson’s 2020 album of the same name. This was the most heart-touching moment; a rumination on personal change, relationships and a journeying through life. A tear in my eye, and in many of those of the people around me, the warmth of Pearson’s gig was a comfort in the cold of a Leeds December.


The set ended with the most dance-y of Pearson’s singles ‘Take Back the Radio’, a fan favourite from 2020. Focus on the crowd’s experience was sustained through a joyous encore and I left Leeds Irish Centre feeling a genuine connection to the breadth of emotion in Pearson’s music as well as a desire to return to this special venue. For anyone who hasn’t seen Katy J Pearson live, I hope you too get to see her and her band someday, now.

Written by Francesca Lynes

Interview: Jasmine.4.t on her debut album, boygenius, and the beauty of community

When it comes to music, blazing a trail is no easy feat. There are infinite barriers that come with trying to find a unique and relatable sound that connects with people and inspires a new generation of creatives, all while garnering praise from the biggest names and publications in the industry. Sounds like a lot of pressure, right?

Well, if you took one look at Manchester singer-songwriter Jasmine.4.t, you’d think it was as easy as saying ‘indie rock icon.’ Her boygenius-produced debut album, ‘You Are The Morning’ released via Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records on January 17th; ‘Imagine having your debut album produced by Phoebe [Bridgers], Lucy [Dacus] and Julien [Baker], like, what the hell?’

The record breaks new ground, opening eyes and hearts to the brutal, yet beautiful reality of the trans experience. In December, I sat down with Jasmine to talk about the album, its themes, and the impact her community has on her art.

Was it always the plan to have boygenius produce the album, or did you shop around for producers for a bit?

It was actually Phoebe’s idea! Lucy had always told me she wanted to produce my album, and then when Phoebe signed me, she said she wanted to produce it, and then they were like, ‘Why don’t we all just produce it?

From the outside, it looks like it all happened super fast; it was announced you were signed to Saddest Factory, then ‘Skin on Skin’ released, and then the album was announced; was it as fast behind the scenes?

It kind of was! I signed the contract the day after Boygenius played Kingston upon Thames. I opened for them, and it was the first time we’d all been in a room together. Then it was like, ‘We need to get you to LA.’ So, I booked the flight immediately. The label paid to fly my Manchester transsexuals to LA, and some trans musicians in LA helped out too, so we all made the album together. We added some more layers once we got back to Manchester, and then everything started coming out, and here we are! I’m very aware that my life is changing super-fast, so I’m trying to cling onto all the normalcy I have left.

When I saw that Vixen played on the album, my mind was blown; she plays guitar for Rina Sawayama and I’m a huge fan. How do you guys know each other, was that through the label?

I can’t remember if it was Lucy or Phoebe who knew Vixen; she’s a great guitarist, but an incredible bassist as well, so we got her in to play bass. We have a lot of footage of the boys and Vixen writing the bass parts together, and it was so incredible watching them all work together. They’re all incredible, but seeing how they all work individually and looking at the different things they contribute was really fucking cool.

What was the writing process like for the record?

All the songs were written and demoed as solo and acoustic; I’d taught my band the songs, but we hadn’t done many shows before we went to LA, so we arranged them in the studio together. Phoebe was laying the framework for how we recorded things; we recorded in the same studio she’d used for Punisher, so we naturally did things in a similar way. I was expecting it to be tense, or competitive, or for there to be some kind of conflict with so many cooks in the kitchen, but it was so fun. We were just hanging out, eating great food, and making great music!

It’s really crazy that you’ve gone this far. Especially because we’re mutuals and have mutual friends, I just find it super crazy that a Manchester doll has an album produced by Boygenius. I can’t get over it.

It’s fucking mad!

It’s a bridge between two worlds that I never expected.

I met the girls through transfem meetups in Manchester, and it was crazy to be like, ‘Hey, do you want to come to LA and record an album with Boygenius?’

It speaks a lot to the value of community; the chemistry between you and your band, and the way you talk about all the different aspects of community and what it does for you is really cool.

I’d definitely recommend coming to ‘Just Do the Thing’ in Manchester, they’re so cool. Each one is organised by a different doll; it’s very anarchist so you never really know what to expect!

Setting up your own meetups in Leeds would be a good shout too, just because there’s so many dolls in similar positions who want more transfem-centred stuff to happen.

Just to circle back to the album for a second, I’d like to talk a little bit about the title track. I assume the track came before the title was decided?

Yeah, it’s about my friend Han who stayed with me through my transition when most of my friends didn’t. I was sleeping on her floor when I didn’t have anywhere else to stay. It’s really a dedication to her.

But at the same time, it’s about the resilience of trans and queer people in the face of violence, which is a very pertinent thing. The memorial list for Trans Day of Remembrance this year was so fucking long. At the time I’d experienced a few violent hate crimes, and Han really helped me through that; it’s all about how my community got me to a point of being able to fight for myself and those around me, and transfem people’s potential to bring change in themselves, those around them and the world in general.

We’ve seen trans people change the world in so many ways this year, and that’s what ‘You Are the Morning’ means now. It’s a call to others to realise that they hold that power.

Your music does that to people, we’ve talked about it a little bit before. I remember speaking to you when you got signed to Saddest Factory, and it really reignited my faith in music and the idea of making it. I’ve never seen a trans girl, other than Ethel Cain, at the centre stage of indie music like this. I know you’ve not been around for long, but I’m really seeing the change.

Thank you, yeah. It’s been amazing seeing other dolls be like, ‘What the fuck? I didn’t know there were other girls out there, making music like me.’ It feels like that world has needed more representation for a long time, and I feel very lucky to be a part of that.

Of all the tracks on the album, I’m the most excited to hear ‘Guy Fawkes Tesco Dissociation’, I’ve heard it mentioned in a couple of interviews and I can’t wait.

I’m expecting it to resonate with a lot of people. I think it’s a very relatable experience, dissociating in Tesco!

Are there any other tracks on the album you’re excited for people to hear?

‘Highfield’, for sure. Of all the tracks, it’s the one that most directly addresses street harassment, and violence, and all the shit that we go through. It’s a present theme on the album, but in this song it’s really the subject. As such a visible advocate for trans rights now, it’s something that I want to bring up.

I bring it up a lot when we play live. It’s something that I think a lot of cis people just don’t think about, and how it affects us psychologically, and stops us from being ourselves on the street. It feels powerful having that song and having the boys there to support that.

It’s something that I don’t see talked about enough. All the conversation is about bathrooms. Who even cares about that?

Exactly, I can go to the bathroom with another girl and be in and out, and feel safe enough, but walking down the street anywhere is terrifying! There’s this background threat of violence that we always have as trans women, and I don’t think people realise that.

The conversation about bathrooms almost seems like a distraction; we’re being made out to be a threat when we’re the ones who are at risk? But I barely see anyone talking about the actual violence we face! I’d really like to centre that conversation in my music.

In terms of the music, what’s next after the album? Are you gonna take time to sit and write?

Oh, I’m writing all the time! I wrote a whole EP while I was in the studio recording the album, and I’d like some of those songs to be on the next album. I’m gonna be playing lots of live shows too.

Hopefully, I’ll be spending more time doing what I love; spending time with lots of lovely queer people and making music. I feel so lucky.

Written by Lucas Assagba