Record Reviews
Meditations On The Sun/Routine And War
By Hannah Brooks
The debut albums by Sydney’s Melodie Nelson and The Singing Skies are deeply intertwined, writes HANNAH BROOKS.
[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] Partners and long-time collaborators Lia Tsamoglou and Kell Derrig-Hall have spent years performing together as experimental drone outfit Moonmilk. Recently binning their earplugs, the two are now focusing on their respective, quieter, solo projects and debut albums, recently released seven days apart.
Both play in the other's band – Tsamoglou's Melodie Nelson and Derrig-Hall's The Singing Skies – and feature on each other's record but what's obvious is their individual talent. While Moonmilk was dark and distant, in their new projects Tsamoglou and Derrig-Hall are front, centre and newly naked; baring their palms, while still supportively holding one another's hands.
On first listen, Meditations On The Sun is an album of warmth and a playful feminine dippiness. It's lush, breathy and filled with dreamy “oohs” and “aahs”. Yet beneath the sweet, ’60s girl-group veneer are tracks of immense power and significance wrapped in layers of charm and simplicity.
'Waiting' opens the album with themes of longing and the void left when a lover leaves. From there the album moves through several emotions and moods: from the pigtailed poppiness of 'My Johnny', the wounded romance of 'Hurt Me So' and the gypsy dread of 'This Town' to the lustful slow-rock of 'Tonight', during which Tsamoglou's vocals are so sensuously swelling it's dizzying. Like a hit from a helium balloon.
[Historical embedded media is withheld pending rights review.] Melodie Nelson - My Johnny by othertongues
Lighter tracks such as 'Bovine Blues' – a duo with Derrig-Hall – is a Lee and Nancy-esque bouncing farmyard ditty. It threatens to break into Dan and the Hotlicks style “Hey Lia”, “Yes Kell” banter mid-track, but manages to contain itself – only just. It's a pink track with a dark warning to keep it real: “So don't you,” they sing, “go painting all our grey skies blue”.
The weightiest song is undoubtedly 'Meditations On The Sun'. It's simple, uses under 10 words and yet contains thousands of emotions. Alongside the looping guitar and Sergio Leone whistling is Tsamoglou's supplication: “Sun, shine on me today.” The sincerity and vulnerability in her delivery is intense, and her begging mantra is so much more than a request for warmth: it is a plea to live. For all of Melodie Nelson's poppiness, you don't have to dig too deep to see that Tsamoglou is a woman of magnitude and artistic maturity.
[Historical embedded media is withheld pending rights review.] 06 Meditations on the Sun by Melodie Nelson
[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] Carrying similar emotional weight are Derrig-Hall's songs on Routine and War. It's an elemental album, windswept and sounding like a man weary of being blown about by the breeze. Recorded by Simon Grounds it features piano from Laura Jean and percussion from Jen Sholakis. Tsamoglou – with her whispery backing – is an ever-present spectre on the album.
The first track 'Acting Fine' is a beaten-down compromise to life on life's terms. Derrig-Hall laments, “Getting older all the time”, before suggesting, “Don't you think it might be time/We put something on the line?” The tentative request floats out organically with the frailest of vocals before fading into the next line: “Let it burn or watch it shine/Make it something, yours and mine?” Simple and meaty.
[Historical embedded media is withheld pending rights review.] The Singing Skies - Acting Fine by Mess+Noise
“Like their makers, these two albums are enhanced by each other.”
The songs – from the upbeat bitterness of 'Loaded Dice' to the simple beauty of 'When The Others Have Gone' – are lyrically potent and soulful. It's the sound of seeing dreams become tainted by age and reality before they crystallise into something new. In the midst of this broken vision is hope, however crippled, that life is all worth it. On 'Say Your Goodnights to the Moon', Derrig-Hall’s voice reaches breaking point when he sings, “As the sun has it's way with your room.” Through another's existence and absence, the beauty of life – of an empty room draped in sunlight – is reflected.
Routine and War is an album difficult to take lightly; one that invites the contemplation of life's bigger questions. Scaled back and not needing any fanfare, these songs are strong enough to simply exist. Morose yet hopeful, Routine and War is an emotive album from a watchful, sensitive songwriter blessed with an open-minded eye. Enhanced by strings courtesy of Biddy Connor, it's a collection of timeless and poignant songs that seep deep into your skin.
Like their makers, these two albums are enhanced by each other. Separately they easily stand alone; together they fit like a pair of non-identical but deeply devoted twins.
+