It's been a crazy journey, as always, to get new music recorded and out into the world, and this release definitely came with a mountain of challenges, both in my personal life and music world. It's incredible to always land on the same important phrase: "so long as the music is the best it can be, that's all that matters". Which is what all my music friends and friends outside of my work team and family always tell me. And let me tell you. I couldn't have created anything more honest than the music I've made over the last few years.
A bit about the song
Hear Me Out - the title in itself already tells you a lot about the song. Lyrically, it talks about wanting to be seen and heard by a loved one. Not only because we should all be heard in a relationship (of any kind), but because it can save the relationship. Hear Me Out sonically travels through more stripped-back moments, at the start of the song, then builds into a whirlwind wind of emotion and chaos. Ending in calm intimacy. This is a song for those who deserve to be heard.
Julia Holter always knew there were multiple forms her song “Materia” could take. The tune’s dynamic, Hildegard von Bingen-inspired melody and dense modal chords stood on their own without a complex arrangement on her wondrous 2024 album Something in the Room She Moves, but she felt a lingering desire to expand the texture and stretch out the harmony. Though she could hear the potential orchestration in her head, Something was already abundant with layers of sound by the time she finished it. She stuck with the original form of “Materia,” then, her cresting voice and blue Wurlitzer hosting games of harmonic hide-and-seek above subtle electronics.
https://juliaholter.ffm.to/materia
Jacob Brodovsky joins If It Be Your Will to talk about Tell the Kids We Tried, the strange business of making art, and the increasingly ambitious project of keeping it together. We get into songwriting, fatherhood, community, climate dread, and why Canadian indie music seems uniquely qualified to make existential crises sound charming. There’s melancholy, wit, guitars, and just enough optimism to keep the whole thing from collapsing. A smart, funny conversation with one of Canada’s quietly great songwriters—and proof that “we tried” can be both a shrug and a pretty decent philosophy.
‘Bandmates Wanted’ posters may be old school, but when songwriter Oisean Burnett moved to London from Glasgow in 2024 the homemade approach was what worked. Fast forward to now and Starter Car have established themselves as darlings of the South London music scene with their unique brand of country-influenced indie. This year sees the release of their debut album, Afterlight, a hooky collection reflecting on life’s beauty and struggles. Recorded and produced by Joe Futák (lilo, Piglet, Baggio), the album’s sound grew organically through the core band plus collaboration with fellow scenesters, including vocals from Christie Gardner (lilo), fiddle from Sophia Bartlett (Tugboat Captain) and banjo from Michael Rhea (Symbol Soup).
https://shop.tapeterecords.com/starter-car-afterlight-4574
“True Mountain Laurel make a strong case that we just need to get our friends together and do some vivacious yapping, set it to a dusty, forlornly hopeful folk tune and rise, together.” - Exclaim!
Our upcoming album Beyonder is full of sounds of the natural world, and the ocean plays a special role in that. If you came to our Royal Albert Hall show in March, the soundscapes we used there included the songs of humpback whales, a person diving underwater, and sounds of a storm at sea. We have populated our songs over the years with sea birds and crashing waves, and it's a habitat that has really fed so much of what we've done lyrically and musically. So the ocean is something we really care about.
https://bitwbitwbitw.bandcamp.
Bitw is the solo project of Welsh musician Gruff ab Arwel. A committed DIY artist, he has built a career of sorts on his own terms, creating lo-fi art pop (not his description) that takes itself seriously without taking himself too seriously. Now in his mid-thirties, Gruff has made the seamless transition from failing musician to failed musician, and is finally enjoying the freedom that comes with having nothing left to prove.
His latest album, Gaddo Glaw, is his most homemade and cost-effective work yet; a record made almost entirely alone with a borrowed Portastudio and a steady supply of bad news. The songs find Gruff generally giving up on hope and finding peace instead through accepting our impending doom. His first entirely Welsh-language release, Gaddo Glaw confronts geopolitical conflict, the climate crisis and the general feeling that things are falling apart, all delivered in easy-to-digest pop song form. Bleak in subject matter yet full of warmth, the album stops short of finding a beacon of hope, but nevertheless holds on for dear life to love as one of the best things full stop.
