WHAMO 001 : Orbits – Tunguska


Tunguska by Melbourne three piece Orbits is the first release on my new label Whalesmouth.

Recorded over two nights at The Catfish in Fitzroy (the venue that also hosts Formless Mondays, the ongoing gig series that I organise), Tunguska captures the live dynamic of the Orbits sound – opening wormholes of psychedelic sound through organic improvisation and the subversion of sonic structures. I’m thrilled to have it as my first release on Whalesmouth. Edition of 100 cassettes and full album stream will be available Tuesday 9.6.2014, Australian standard eastern time.
Photos below from the recording sessions, with thanks to Josh Kenk.

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2014 : Formless horizons

Formless Fields is not dead, it has only been sleeping.

Since my last post I’ve been adjusting to changes that have both limited opportunities to post and drained me of energy to put one word after another. Taking up extra hours at my place of employment (fine Fitzroy North watering hole The Pinnacle) and additional band booking roles have claimed much of my spare time. Such a precious, fleeting thing.

I’ve continued to keep an eye on my goal of releasing some tapes this year and I’ll have some news on that very soon. This post however will mainly concern my experiences in booking Monday nights at refurbished Fitzroy venue The Catfish, with a regular gig series we call Formless Mondays.

Booking bands is often challenging, sometimes frustrating, and always rewarding. The focus of the Formless Monday gigs is to provide a different live music experience for punters and performers alike, through longer set times and an emphasis on improvisation and collaboration. Sometimes this happens, sometimes it doesn’t, but always the gigs vary from the norm. What we’re trying to provide is an unpredictable series of gigs from each week to the next; gigs that are lively, challenging and stimulating. Gigs that reflect the great diversity of musical artists on Melbourne.

So far, so good, and below are samples from some of my favourite Formless Mondays thus far.

Vacant Lake and Purr



Purr and Vacant Lake. Photo : Jade Cantwell


Purr. Photo : Jade Cantwell

One of our best attended gigs that best captured the spirit of the night – Purr and Vacant Lake are brilliant musicians who wholly embraced the spirit of improvisation and collaboration. Fantastic visuals were provided by Mr Robbie Pitts.


Mind melting jams from Collingwood kings. All in attendance had their insides goopified. A stunning psychedelic experience. Said it was one of their funnest sets. I believe them. I was there.


Batpiss. Photos: Joshy Kenk

Ryan Edwards


Ryan is one of my favourite local guitarists and it was wonderful to see him playing an extended improvised set before making some spectacular racket with Conatus.



An inspiring set of improvised drone and psychedelic soundscapes from three blokes I’ll be working with real soon, in some capacity. A large portion of this set was captured rather well by Orbits dude Warwick Smith:

Cool Soundscoolsounds1


I didn’t know much about Cool Sounds before their gig but they put on a killer show. A tight band with a great psychedelic pop sound who have a lot of fun while they play. That’s important. Nice guys too. Also important.  Already booked more shows with them. A rough bootleg of one of their jams:


There’s been plenty of other fantastic shows but I don’t have photos or recordings of them all unfortunately! Thanks so much to all the bands that have played gigs and to the good folk of The Catfish for being so supportive. It’s a real thrill to become a more active participant in a music scene that I love so dearly. I hope that booking bands will continue to be one of the many things that I dabble in well into the future. Finally, our Formless Mondays for April:




Over the next couple of weeks I’ll be looking back on the music that inspired and moved me in 2013. I’ll do this by posting on my favourite vinyl, favourite tapes and favourite labels. Over at Bandcamp Hunter I’ll be reviewing my favourite music that I found on the blog for the year, so in between the two sites I hope to provide you with a fairly comprehensive take on what I consider the best music of 2013. This post concerns reflections on other musical events of 2013, as well as taking stock of where I’m at with this whole caper.

Formless Fields and The Record Label

I haven’t posted on Formless Fields as much as I would have liked. This is mainly due to laziness, straight up. My lifestyle is quite conducive to more frequent postings but the extra time that I’ve afforded myself is often given to less energetic endeavours, or being unconscious altogether. Discipline and motivation are things I’ve always struggled with and I don’t exactly have a healthy lifestyle. I hope to be more productive in 2014.

This said I am happy with how Formless Fields has developed, in particular the regular interviews with the good souls who run independent labels have been the source of much inspiration. As nice as it is to get positive feedback online, blogging is a very solitary practice so it’s been a pleasure to talk with people who I admire, to learn more about them and to share in their passion for music. Thanks again to everyone I spoke to this year. I know how valuable your time is.

I still want to start a record label in 2014. I hoped to be further along in the planning process by now but it is still something I have a strong desire to do and the interview series has only motivated me to do it further. I’ve gotten a lot more interested in tapes this year and this is how I see the label beginning. I’d like to release local music then branch further afield, much like my first interview subject Steve did with Moon Glyph. The combination of music and design is something that greatly interests me and I hope to make beautiful packaging to accompany whatever music I push into the world.I feel as if I’ve grown as a designer over the year and I also hope to collaborate with some of my absurdly talented friends. I also still intend on going to the USA in 2014 and experiencing different music scenes while meeting some of these people I’ve interviewed and, I’m sure, some new folks. 2014 then – the year of getting busier, making things and going places.

2013 has been pretty great, here are some reflections of my musical year in Melbourne.

Good Things

A highlight of 2013 for me has been seeing musical friends gain success and recognition. I’m not a musician myself though I understand the difficulties that come with being a full time musician – the strain it puts on time, money and relationships. It warms my heart no end to see people I know and respect achieve success while continuing to smile and grow musically, seemingly unhindered by the pressures of musician life. Specifically I’m talking about two acts – Courtney Barnett and Batpiss.

The success Courtney has gained this year isn’t surprising at all. I’ve said for a while now that she’s the hardest working musician I know and certainly this is central to her gaining such a devoted following, however there’s more to her success than just gigging and gigging (Courtney also runs her own label, the terrific Milk! Records). You can play thousands of shows, but at the end of the day you’ve gotta have the songs, man. Personal, odd and utterly infectious, Courtney’s songs have always been very likeable and this year she wrote some her finest tunes, with Avant Gardener and History Eraser being the arrowheads that hit the bullseye with many respectable music publications and sites. Her live shows are always fantastic fun and Courtney has a great damn band (enthusiastic tip of the hat to Messrs Sloane, Luscombe and Mudie) to compliment her own brilliant guitar playing. It was awesome to see her so rapturously received in the US and in Europe, and she’s returning in 2014 to conquer even bigger and brighter stages. 

The combination of clever, honest lyrics with hook filled jams is no musical revelation but in this day and age of musical saturation I think we all respond to music that feels like it comes from a real place, a real human being. Music from a person that we feel like is doing it for the right reasons, making music that’s devoid of pretension. A person who is doing it because they dig it. This is what I get from Court’s music. It’s really nice to see that a whole lot of other people get it too.

A disclaimer on the following – Marty from Batpiss is my younger brother. These words are entirely non-nepotistic.

Having built a strong rep as an incinerating live act by the end of 2012, Collingwood’s Batpiss had nothing but scorched earth before coming into their wildfire 2013. With the release of the magnificent Nuclear Winter and a live show that intensified with every performance, their following grew from word of mouth buzz to fervent cult status as the three piece maimed and slayed all that came before them. Their music is violence, it is catharsis, and it is great fucking fun. It’s three young guys expressing themselves through a relentless strain of sludge punk that is of their guts, of their place, of who they are. They’re a true band, in that each member in utterly indispensable – Pirie’s psychedelic mind molesting guitar work (plus his unmistakeable artwork that has given the band it’s distinct identity), Thomy’s roaring vocals and pulverising bass, and Marty’s intense, super tight drumming. Replace one of these guys and they are not the ‘Piss.

Batpiss are a creative melding of these three musicians, yes, but the strength of their music comes from the combining of their personalities. This is true of many bands but it’s absolutely vital to Batpiss, and it has a lot to do why so many people got aboard the searing musical juggernaut that they let loose in 2013. So much sweat and blood was shed seeing them play in 2013, with the album launch of back in May at The Tote standing out as one of my gigs of the year. An unbelievably caustic punk rock show that may well have permanently damaged my neck. But that’s what you do for the music you love. You hurt yourself for it.

2013 was a year I drew a line in the sand on seeing bigger bands in larger venues. I’ve found that in bigger venues the crowd is mostly disinterested, the sound poor and the performance lacking. I’d much rather see a band perform in a smaller space, with better sound and greater comfort. Yep I’m getting real old. So this year it was wonderful to see two of my favourite international artists Mark McGuire, Dirty Beaches and Barn Owl perform in smaller venues, at the (sadly defunct) Gasometer, The Tote and Northcote Social Club respectably. I’d had a deeply solitary relationship with the music of these artists up until seeing them perform so it was a great thrill to be immersed in their music in a more expansive environment, alongside people who also appreciated the music.

It’s difficult for me to pinpoint a list of gigs by local artists that I enjoyed the most, my memory also fails me in my latter years. However I can say that gigs by The Ocean Party, Michael Beach and a very recent show by The Stevens stand out as some of the best I saw. Then of course there was the Formless Fields launch party, a great day of music and sunshine held at my own house. Events like those are what I enjoy the most, in getting to see bands perform and meet a whole lot of folks that I’d only had online contact with up until then. I’ll be organising more shows in 2014, starting with a new series of nights that I’m organising called Formless Mondays. More about those gigs soon.

One of the great musical moments of the year was seeing one of my favourite bands of all time You Am I perform their two classic albums Hourly, Daily and Hi Fi Way at The Forum. I was wary going into this gig as I’ve become very anti-reunion/album performance shows. I’d attended a few fizzers and dislike the exploitative nature of some of these gigs, they prey on nostalgia (like much of the music industry does) and often don’t do the band justice. My apprehension was misplaced for this show however, as You Am I delivered a blinding gig and upheld their title as The Greatest Rock and Roll Band I Ever Did See. I hurt myself at this show too – strained my face from smiling too damn hard.

Sad Things

Continuing the local slant of this post and it was saddening to lose two of our best music venues in melbourne this year, The Gasometer and, just recently The Empress. The Gasso had established itself as one of Melbourne’s best local venues, hosting an amazingly diverse range of music across its two stages every night of the week. As a venue it sometimes lacked in atmosphere however I always enjoyed the gigs held within the walls of this beautiful old pub and will miss it greatly.

The Empress shut its doors just this month amid an outpouring of public grief. It’s a grand pub that had become a strong part of Melbourne’s culture, both musically and socially. People held this place dearly in their hearts, something I have not really understood until taking up employment in a similarly beloved pub in the same area. These buildings are not just about booze and bands, for many people they are central to their day to day lives and social interactions. Places to meet, talk and laugh. I had many fond memories of nights spent at the the Empress and will miss it’s red interiors, that lovely little stage and the personality of publican Sandra.

As glum as all this I have great faith in the ability of Melbourne’s live music scene to rebound from such losses. In my time spent in Melbourne I’ve seen many a venue close, only for another to rise elsewhere. These are not fatal blows. Mourn their loss but let us move on. The best way to do this is by getting out and see as much music as we can in the new venues that will inevitably take their place.

Not to long ago I was disappointed to learn that favourite local band Sandcastle had called it a day. Those who have followed my blogging for a while will know that the psychedelic marauders were a favourite band of mine, having impressed me greatly with their stunning debut EP and consistently gripping live shows. With their rhythm section dispersing across Australia the band called it quits, though frontman Max and guitarist Ryan continue to work on their own projects. The two have an intriguing new project named Conatus while Max continues in his sonic alchemist guise as Nothinge. Fruitful times ahead for them I’m sure but vale Sandcastle, and thanks for all the good times.

A Good Thing and A Sad Thing

Back in March I was fortunate enough to witness a remarkable performance by my chief musical hero, Neil Young, held as one of these “Day On the Green” type deals out on a winery near Geelong. The weather was foul that day my friends. Neil and Crazy Horse’s set was gloriously defiant in the face of howling gales and torrential rain, a stunning display of stoicism that encapsulated all I love about Neil and the music that he’s given us. His performance of Like A Hurricane during the most intense period of the storm was one of those moments that cannot be described, it was truly magical. You just had to be there.

While I was witnessing this spectacle another musical hero of mine was leaving this mortal realm. Jason Molina died that night. Molina and Young are often linked and while I feel this comparison is not always appropriate from a musical view point (I consider Jason a superior lyricist), I do consider them to be similar in being defined by their great artistic integrity. On this night we drove back to Melbourne listening to my favourite Songs:Ohia album Didn’t It Rain. I looked at factories in the moonlight, saw wires swaying in the rain and wondered how Jason was doing. Little did I know that he was dying. I’ve never been so saddened by a musicians death. I miss him every day but will always be grateful for what he gave, and am thankful that I’ll always have his music. I plan on writing a more in depth tribute to Jason, hopefully in time for the anniversary of his death in March.

I appreciate all the support you’ve given me in my blogging endeavours this year. I look forward to continuing to bring you new music and articles in 2014 while also embarking on new adventures. In closing I’ll invoke Molina and use the words he would say at the end of nearly every song he performed live : “Thank you kindly.”



Our Melbourne is a town that never gives you what you want. Desperate for definition as we all are, Melbourne – like any large city – defies categorisation, in both meteorological and urban terms. You can talk about how pretty the bay is on a summers day, but spend an afternoon sweating in the industrial badlands of Preston and you might not be so chirpy. Wax lyrical on the wonderful creative community that thrives in the town and I’ll suggest you walk down Swanston Street at 2am on a Saturday night. Tell me how everyone is getting along. Talk about how lovely it is outside right now and be certain that you’ll be struck by a blast of sleet within the next moment. My point being that a city is a rich and complex place, it has both unpleasant and beautiful aspects. Dark and light. Loud and quiet.

Released on ace local label Birds Love Fighting, “Swallowing A Sunflower” is a guitar odyssey that captures the contrasting sides of life in Melbourne. And those guitars are glorious. “Shoegaze” is probably one of my most disliked of all silly genre titles but it’s hard to talk about this record without dropping it in. The guitars on “Sunflower” do indeed build walls of sound and we are indeed guided into spiralling chasms of noise by these dream-like songs. The sound here tips its hat to stalwarts of late 80s shoegaze however there’s a rawness to the Parading sound that indicates their place of origin; a combining of hard edges and formless (I do like that word) noise that makes it a distinct Melbourne album.

There’s been a lot of hype about the rise of the “New Pop Underground”  in Australia recently but the last eighteen months has also been a Golden Age for heavier bands, led by acts such as Batpiss, The Spinning Rooms, White Wallls and Exhaustion, to name but a few. Parading fit somewhere between the two fields; their songs have a tenderness that sets them apart from these other high volume bands. Their sound is undeniably all about volume however and, like the bands mentioned above, seeing them perform live is the best way of experience Parading. My appreciation for this album has been heightened by seeing a few Parading gigs and they’re an impressively tight unit as a band, devoid of showmanship in their performance. What they are is assured, sharp and paint-strippingly loud. It’s the contrast between the power of their performance and the themes of uncertainty and personal struggle in Tom Barry’s lyrics that makes them an intriguing band.

Opener “Apollo” is the heaviest track of the album, a mid-tempo crusher that establishes the elements of the Parading sound : the muted, rock-solid rhythm section, those heavyweight guitars and Barry’s distinct voice.

His delivery has something of an affected slant to it – not slurred but sounding alternately like he is either entering an altered state or coming down from one. It’s a central part of the bands sound and adds to the understated quality of this album – while the instruments are often hitting celestial heights of noise, the vocals keep the sound grounded, and very human. “Apollo” also hints at lyrical themes to come in it’s fragmented, pained conversations with lovers-

You don’t come easy to me;
Thinking of how long;
We didn’t know that we was wrong

“Country Song” is a heavy one too though slightly more melodic than its predecessor, with the presence of acoustic guitar perhaps contributing to the songs title. It’s got a brighter feel to it, with a guitar refrain that almost reminds me of Teenage Fanclub’s “Alcoholiday”. The lyrics  feel conversational but that conversation is happening with just one person – an overseen diary entry of doubt and second guessing.

These dark themes take on their bleakest form in “Flying Too Low”, a song that inverses the myth of Icarus.

Please don’t turn around that’s too slow;
You’re flying too close to the sun;
I’m flying too low

The words here seem to deal with the paralysis of depression. I don’t believe it’s a misanthropic song though the lyrics reference wanting to be alone, of being repelled by society. The feeling of isolation is tangible, though as with many songs on this album the introspective moments are offset by the power of the band. It bristles with stoicism. Parading battle sadness with noise, fend off demons with jet exhaust strength guitars.

At only thirty five minutes “Swallowing A Sunflower” could be regarded as a brief album for a band with such an expansive sound but I think it’s perfectly weighted. Three instrumental tracks break up the album nicely – “Julienne” at the end of side one, “Sweet Julienne” as the second track on side two and the title track as the album closer. Wedged between the two “Julienne” tracks is a crackling cover of Springsteen’s “Factory”. At almost twice the length of the original, it’s delivered at a slower tempo and filled out with a much greater volume. That said it’s one of the more minimal songs on this album, delivered with (of course) less earnestness than the Boss to create a reflective rendition that seems to have more to do with the drudgery of working life than being a rousing working class anthem. Mostly it sounds like a band delivering an affectionate cover a song they admire, and in the context of being a Melbourne album it evokes the city’s hulking docks and factories – an aspect of Melbourne that is rarely acknowledged in song.

“Dreaming about Killing” is aptly named, its dark dreamy tone makes it the most “shoegazy” of all the songs here. A line that concerns a dream about murder can’t help but remind me of the opening line of “Via Chicago”, one of my favourite Wilco songs. And while on the Chicago band, the sound of “Swallowing A Sunflower” does remind me of “A Ghost Is Born” songs like “At Least That’s What You said” and “Hell Is Chrome” in the combining of detached vocals with cathartic guitar noise. Another big influence is undoubtedly Galaxy 500, and the albums high point “Untouched” evokes “Fourth of July” in the spoken delivery of the verses and soaring guitars.

A poignant postmortem on a relationship, it’s a terrific song that’s delivered with great power and honesty.

It was bound to happen;
They were bound to fall over just to get up again;
Two people crashing into each other;
Just to see how close they could get

In tandem with the blissful spaciousness of the closing instrumental, “Untouched” rounds off the album beautifully. Dark days have been encountered on “Swallowing A Sunflower” but it’s an album that leaves a positive afterglow.


Like the long Melbourne winter that never seems to end, followed by the spring that never was, followed by the summer that refuses to begin, this album reflects the uncertainty of life in Melbourne but, I believe, rejoices in that uncertainty. Heartache and hardships come and go in this town, just like any other place. The Great Constant in Melbourne is the music – guitars to get lost in. Noise that bleeds the pain away. Great bands releasing great albums that become your closest of friends. Parading are a Melbourne band.


For a limited time you can purchase “Swallowing A Sunflower” through Birds Love Fighting and receive  “Bow Down To” by Hierophants and the ‘”Fresh Milk EP” by Orbits 7″ for free.
Visit the Birds Love Fighting Bandcamp to do so.



“Little Appeal”, the latest release from Melbourne’s Lower Spectrum, is a night album. It was created at night and is best experienced at night. In the dark hours there’s less movement. Fewer people. The city is lit so dramatically, so…cinematically. I’ve taken a greater interest in such music over the last year, especially in the work of artists like Ensemble Enconomique, the blacker-than-black sounds of the UK’s Blackhoods, and local artist Angel Eyes.

Then of course there’s the music Alex Zhang Hungtai creates as Dirty Beaches. This years  “Drifters/Love Is The Devil” is by far my favourite album of 2013, and this has a lot to do with it being a night music tour de force, a brilliant evocation of the nocturnal urban landscape .

To my senses, the sounds these musicians are creating share some relation to the strange and often violent undercurrents that exist in the films of Lynch and Winding Refn. The violence in this music is perhaps not as graphic as say, the scene in “Only God Forgives” where a man has skewers rammed into his ears (and many other body parts), but there is an inferred sinisterness in this music, a similar sort of tension that dominates such a film. A subtle sense of dread pulses through the electronic dominated soundscapes these artists create, contrasted with moments of disarming beauty. It’s music that may incorporate elements of drone, modern classical and ambient, though the important aspect is the creation of a certain atmosphere. Listen to the opening track of Ensemble Enconmique’s latest release – a split with Italian outfit Heroin and Tahiti – listen to it in the dark.

These are sounds to be experienced with only secretive night cats and indifferent street lights for company. With your breath billowing before you in a street shaped by shadows. Such music enhances the night and gives everything an intangible sense of cool. It may also make you feel like you’re on your way to some sort of illicit deal (and hey, maybe you are).

I recently had a drink with Ned Beckley of Lower Spectrum at Clifton Hill bar Some Velvet Morning (not at night but during bleary Melbourne daylight hours) and we talked about his new album, amongst other things. The creation of “Little Appeal” is a unique tale. It was conceived during a six month globe spanning trip that covered Asia, Europe and the USA. Equipped with a laptop, a zoom mic and two midi controllers, Beckley would take in his surroundings during the day and create music at night, drawing on inspiration from what he had seen that day. The album was then fleshed out upon return to Australia in rural Victoria. At night.

Ned Beckley

Ned Beckley

“Little Appeal” is an accomplished expression of self and place. We talk about the “pure creativity” that comes with travel, something that many experience but are unable to translate to actual art as successfully as Beckley does on this album. While the bustle of cities inspired elements of his compositions, he tells me how the landscape provided a greater amount of creative fuel – the sonic shapes of Little Appeal are borne more from “rolling deserts and deep forests” than from teeming cities. The contrasting and at times bizarre experiences also provided inspiration, from witnessing the peculiarity of Arab Idol, to playing a baby grand piano in a Tuscan castle, to the cultural cacophony of San Francisco and New York. Ned documented his experiences on Tumblr during the trip, pairing images of French vineyards and Berlin street art with these gestating musical creations that were posted to Soundcloud.

“It was such a good thing to do, being able to listen to the sounds and look at the images – it’s a nice sort of memory that’s concrete. You don’t often look at you memories and hear them too. Like the way you’d look at a video, or a moving image…it’s a special thing.”

A wholly different recording process, one that makes studio production look positively stale and, well, uncreative. The results are one of the finest electronic releases of the year. Each piece is lush with atmospheric layers of sound, mining deep sonic ideas that stretch beyond the time frame in which they exist. “Sanctity” is a fine example of this. Skittering beats are gradually introduced over layers of slowly building brass and piano and a strange tension develops, one that is both serenely cool and disconcerting. Make your way down that checkered hallway and close those red curtains behind you sir, there’s someone here to see you.

Elsewhere the manic rhythms of “Hollow” remind me of my own adventures through South East Asia though Ned points out that Little Appeal is not a travelogue. The dense rhythms and dark sonic terrain of “Little Appeal” are designed to evoke a feeling of night. This is reflected in the artwork for the album, a blackened scene of a service station that is reminiscent of the work of American photographer Will Govus. Says Beckley – “It is how I imagined people would perceive what the music would look like.”

It’s an interesting notion and something many musicians seem to neglect, the close connection between vision and sound. It’s a concept that many of these smaller labels that I’m interested in realise, providing the artists they represent with carefully crafted packaging that captures their sound and identity. Though interested in working with labels in the future, this has been very much an independent release for Beckley.

While Lower Spectrum did perform live as a duo for sometime, the project is now very much a solo endeavour and this independence informs the choices Ned makes in distributing his music online. A record label was interested in the new album after it was uploaded to Bandcamp, asking him to remove the album and organise a single launch rather than an album launch. Beckley declined, preferring to retain full control over how the music was released into the world.

“I don’t really like the conventions of doing a single and teasing it out. With this album I perceived it as a whole piece. I didn’t want to break it apart…I like the DIY approach.”

There’s no rules in online music, only what works best for you. Beckley is not fiercely independent, but merely independent – clear minded and aware of how he wants his music to exist in the digital space (loves Bandcamp, Soundcloud – not so much). Already he has seen decent returns on the pay-what-you want system of Bandcamp after just one week of activity. We sip our beers and concur that good music will find a way to be heard and that good people will pay money for it. It’s comforting to find affirmation of this notion as I sometimes fear I am becoming idealistic in my attitudes towards digital music. Clear eyes and open minds, friends.

Beckley brings up catching Nils Frahm while in New York and we discuss his interest in the modern classical movement. He describes his own music as sitting somewhere between this genre and the term “experimental”. “Erasing Form” is perhaps the best indication of the straddling of styles, with lilting piano giving way to what sounds like a futuristic factory, busy with laser driven machinery and pulsing neon light.

It’s music that exists within an exciting realm of sonic creativity, where artists conjure music that is not solely concerned with the act of listening, but also of seeing and experiencing. Perhaps this realm is “cinematic”. Or maybe it’s “nocturnal”.

Since I met with Ned he’s relocated to Perth to work on new ventures and be inspired by new surroundings. Not only do I identify with the music of Lower Spectrum as being part of this “new nocturnal” but in talking with Ned I get a strong sense of someone who is very much a modern musician, an artist who is revelling in the current state of music. He sees this as an exciting time to be an artist : not complaining about what digital music takes away but rejoicing in what it provides, seeking out new creative approaches, and moving forward, always moving forward. It will be exciting to follow his output while in Western Australia. I hear the night skies out there are incredible.

Lower Spectrum on Tumblr

Lower Spectrum on Bandcamp