The Leaf Library Have Been Right This Whole Time
Six years is a long time to believe in something. Matt, the engine behind The Leaf Library, will tell you it requires a specific kind of delusion — the ability to convince yourself, and eventually everyone around you, that the record you're making is worth the time, the money, and the slow erosion of certainty. After the Rain, Strange Seeds is proof that the delusion held.
The band's fourth album landed on Fika Records this past March, and it sounds like exactly what it is: decades of instinct refined into something weightless. Dream pop that leans pastoral, folk textures dissolving into lo-fi haze, Kate's vocals sitting just above the mix like something half-remembered. It's the kind of record that doesn't announce itself — it accumulates.
In this conversation, Matt traces the long road here: a Stereolab ad in Reading, a John Peel spin, a DIY infrastructure that taught him more about music than any lesson could. He talks about the band's finally-settled lineup, the collaborative friendship with Kate that stretches back to 1996, and a forthcoming project built around drones traded with Japanese artist Teriyuki Kurohara. He's thoughtful, self-deprecating, and quietly certain that this one cut through for a reason.
He's right. Go listen.
the-leaf-library-the-ivy-house
