“I have a love and it never fades”

Sometimes the best way to cope with loss is to create something new. 

Whether you choose to paint, write, curate memories or do something altogether more personal, finding an artistic outlet in which to explore the death of a loved one is an essential part of grieving and coping. 

It’s art at its most primal and it’s what makes I Have A Love so powerful.

Recorded by Irish musician David Balfe after his best friend and emerging poet Paul Curran committed suicide, I Have A Love cribs some ideas from The Streets but is strikingly minimal and affecting in its own way.

It starts with a simple lopped piano; a siren that warns the listener to Balfe’s coming grief. It weaves in and out of the track like an ambulance futilely attempting to reach its quarry.

“I have a love and it never fades”

Balfe’s spoken-word promise breaks with a wave of distorted bass. Somehow, it feels more powerful in his thick Irish accent as his stanzas sketch the outline of Dublin’s music scene and nightlife which framed his and Curran’s friendship.

“I have a love and it never fades”

He repeats, colouring in the shapes of his sadness with layered flutes as he wrestles with an existential crisis and questions of faith.

“I have a love and it never fades”

He adds texture with the gentle brushstrokes of cymbals while audio records of Paul, accompanied by an 808 beat and a solitary synth, make their friendship real to the listener before Balfe’s feelings finally burst into a torrent of mourning.

“I have a love and it never fades”

The outpouring of love in the words that follow is beautiful. Balfe’s memories are defiantly vivid. He simply refuses to forget. It’s a coping mechanism. A promise to the ether. A promise to Paul.

“I have a love and it never fades”

It captures the essence of why people still talk to departed loved ones when they are alone. Why they pray – even if they’re not religious. And why after losing my Mother, Father, Sister and Nephew I rarely visit their graves.

I simply refuse to let crying at their headstones overtake my memories of who they were and our time spent together.

I have a love and it never fades.

The post For Those I Love – I Have A Love appeared first on [edit] radio.

Played on podcast 519, Love Game by Iris (아이리스) is a disco-funk ballad with a K-pop twist that has become my go-to, feel-good songs of 2020.

Sung almost entirely in kawaii-cute Korean, the track uses familiar musical cues – a Nile Rodgers inspired guitars and doe-eyed keys – to remove the language barrier and allowing western listeners, like me, to fill in the blanks as they bop along. 

The post Iris (아이리스) – Love Game appeared first on [edit] radio.

“Bitch I’m a Charva, Grey Goose Parka”

450 by Bad Boy Chiller Crew is a solid gold banger. Released by a bunch of #Lads from Bradford at the tail end of 2019 and played on podcast 515, the exuberant track parties between Dance and Grime like The Streets with Original Pirate Material, but with fewer fucks given. 

Bounced along by beats and electronic organs which are heavily indebted to late-90s  floor-fillers like Nightcrawlers Push The Feeling and Livin’ Joy’s Dreamer, 450 fits as snugly on as Spotify’s new music playlist as it does on your mum’s Kisstory CD by distilling three decades of the UK’s small-town drink and drug culture.

Where calling your mates a ‘div’, ‘mush’ or ‘charva’ is deemed acceptable and just part of an evening’s entertainment that includes splashing on the CK One, a burn in the car and loading up on cheap vodka at ‘Spoon’s before ending at a nightclub called something shit, like Utopia or Liquid. 

It’s a right of passage set to song, somehow nostalgic-yet-new and the start of BBCC’s inevitable journey into the mainstream.

The post Bad Boy Chiller Crew – 450 (feat. S Dog) appeared first on [edit] radio.

A look at the history of fanzines reveals more about their writers than the music

The first time I encountered a real fanzine was at a festival. I hadn’t slept for 24 hours, was covered head to toe in what I hoped was mud and feeling the satisfying effects of a large amount of gin. Called Applecore, the small, photocopied ‘zine was thrust into my hands by an ordinary looking guy called Henry, cost me £1 and could easily have been mistaken for a school project. I shoved it in my bag, forgot it existed and three months passed before I finally took a closer look at a form of publishing that has become an obsession.

Fanzines like Applecore first appeared in the 1930s as a product of science fiction aficionados, whose interests were ignored by the magazines of the time. It was a small scene that expanded over the next three decades to include titles dedicated to Blues and Jazz music, before in 1969, a US college student called Paul Williams started Crawdaddy! Named after the club in which the Rolling Stones played their first gig, Crawdaddy! was the first publication, either produced by fans or professionals, to write solely about rock music and paved the way magazines like Rolling Stone and Creem. However, it was the combination of Punks DIY aesthetic and affordable photocopying technology, that lit the fuse under the ‘Golden Age’ of fanzines in 1976. Resulting in an explosion of publications that varied in quality and ranged from anarchic handmade ‘zines like Sniffin’ Glue, to the professional looking Monitor. Who were tied together by the enthusiasm of the articles put together by spiky haired, fetish clad amateur writers who wanted to have their say on Punk and pour petrol on the scenes fire.

Prof. Chris Atton

Karren Ablaze

By the turn of the century thousands of untrained writers had flooded cyberspace to have their say. Amongst their number was Bill Cummings, a geeky teen studying at University with a penchant for lo-fi rock, “I started writing for my student newspaper and I needed a put them out for myself. At the time music blogs didn’t really exist, so I set up a very primitive Yahoo site.” Although a fan of blogging, Cummings decided to go a different way, “I made a webzine, because I was influenced by the irreverent and passionate air of old style paper ‘zines like Repeat. It gives us a passionate less serious edge to our content which has more individuality than the mainstream press.”

The post The Evolution of Fanzines appeared first on [edit] radio.

I’d stick around when things are falling down

As song titles go, there are few as apt as ‘Sticky’. Succinctly describing the track’s figurative and metaphorical message, it stands as a testament to the artistic focus of Ravyn Lanae. Featuring production by the talented Steve Lacy – the man behind the best of Kendrick Lamar’s discography – the track by rising RnB star from Chicago sounds nothing short of alcoholic. A dizzying cocktail of god-fearing keys, funky basslines and shimmering drums, that fizzes upon contact with Lenae’s sherbet sweet voice. In just a few gulps you’re drunk, swaying with every high-pitched whoop, spinning with each breathy whisper before stumbling into an utterly addictive and mesmeric state of bliss.

Words by Edit_Kev.

The post Edit Recommends: Ravyn Lenae – Sticky appeared first on [edit] radio.

Romanticising the emotional trauma of a morning after the night before is something that Boy Pablo has mastered. On, Feeling Lonely, the Norwegian Indie-pop newcomer confesses to waking up unexpectedly alone, without a “cellphone” and with a headache that thumps like a “heart attack”. Instead of doing the sensible thing and sulking, Pablo revels in his mess, singing with a life-affirming swoon and dancing around his loneliness with a guitar that’s so caffeinated it’s enough to cause palpitations. After all, no matter how bad you feel when you wake up, at least you had a good time, right?

The post Review: Boy Pablo – Feeling Lonely appeared first on [edit] radio.

Don’t you know that I can make it better?

The first time I listened to Three Rings I cried. Emotionally speaking, the song absolutely battered me and it’s taken me a while to figure out why.

The track, the first to be released from their forthcoming album, Painted Ruins, is a continuation of the Brooklyn band’s ever evolving sound; which has drifted from a Jazz-addicted Beach Boys (Yellow House), to precise chamber-pop (Veckatimest) and onto baroque rock (Shields) in just three albums.

On Three Rings, this evolution continues. Stark industrial beats and deep base keys have been added and lurk menacingly underneath the bands usual tropes; orchestral string, flutes, vocal harmonies and, of course, Daniel Rossens intricate guitar work.

While at first the affect is a little jarring for fans – the transition is similar to how odd it felt to when Radiohead started using processed beats on Kid-A – the additions fit well, and brings additional heft and momentum without ever overwhelming Ed Droste’s delicate voice.

With the benefit of 20-30 listens, it’s become clear that what hit me so hard is the narrative laid out in the songs lyrics. When Droste sings “Will you move on again? / See that time to flee again / You always make it alright / Is that the way it is? / You know your move around the bend,” he dragged up every rotten, anxiety-ridden memory of the romantic relationships I had in my 20s (I’m 36 now).

When boiled down, his words became the essence of how my own lack of self-worth and excess of empathy helped attract partners looking for someone non-threatening to move on from a previously damaging experience; I offered closeness without the risk of getting hurt.

The amount of times I was told that I was loved, that I had helped my partner only for them to discard me quickly were beyond count. It made me bitter and made me beg: “I wanna be the guy who’s right / I want you to see things clearly / I wanna make it alright” and left my own mix of neurosis’ worse, as my understanding for their pain clashed with my own: “Don’t you be so reasoned / Don’t you know that I can make it better? / Don’t you ever leave me / Don’t you feel it all come together?”

It happened a lot and for a long-time, it diminished me as person and eventually left me numb and it took some pretty massive, life-changing decisions to break the cycle. Decisions that have helped me find the sort of loving relationship that I never truly believed I deserved.

The post Grizzly Bear – Three Rings appeared first on [edit] radio.

I hate to say I told you so

I’ll hold my hands up right now, I was pretty damn late to the Paramore party. Back when I was in my mid-twenties I was a bit (*coughs and splutters*) of a music snob and put waaaay too much emphasis on the value of authenticity. These days I have don’t suffer from the same hang-ups and (thanks to the cajoling of [edit] first lady Jenessa) I can appreciate Hayley Williams as a consummate live-performer and one of the best popstars knocking around.

On their new album, After Laughter, Williams and Paramore’s chief music maker, Taylor York, continue their evolution from emo-headliners to straight ahead pop megastars. A journey that begun with the success of Ain’t It Fun, the summer banger from their self-titled album from 2013, and is plastered across every single one of the new LP’s tracks.

For me, the most interesting song from the new LP is second single “Told You So”, which fidgets with nervous energy. Upon first listen it feels irregular, its rolling verses trundle along nicely before they’re unwittingly soaked by an impatient chorus which is dropped in like a hastily placed pint. However, as familiarity grows, the Foals-esq guitars (the breakdown in Blue Blood anyone?) and precise vocal yelps and warped vocoder begin to find their mark, the oddness recedes and the track reveals itself as a fresh and bold departure from a band that critics and fans felt they had a handle on.

The post Paramore – Told You So appeared first on [edit] radio.

When I die, bury me with all my ice on.

For ages, I’ve joked with friends that when Drake croons about his woes he creates a genre of his own (RnBemo anyone?). But while I don’t doubt the emotional sincerity of his output, he’s often covering issues that are the very definition of first world problems, which is something that makes his music a.) easier for fans to relate to, and b.) easier to mock his ‘feels’ with memes without feeling guilty.

The same emotional triviality is nowhere to be found on WitchBlades, the latest single from fellow Emo and HipHop blending Lil Peep. The newcomer from Los Angeles, erases traditional genre definition with a track that could weirdly fit in either Linkin Park’s or The Weeknd’s discography. While he’s not the first artist to blur the area between rock and rap (Run DMC & Limp Biskit), on WitchBlades, Peep exudes an equal mix of rap badass and emo-kid-fragility, creating something that feels entirely new.

The post Lil Peep – Witchblades appeared first on [edit] radio.

“It’s just that you waited a long time”

In March I stumbled across Poussine by Krispy Kareem, an album that someone, somewhere should have shared with me earlier. The indie-pop-slackers from Philadelphia are a sounds-like-Pavement band recommendation with a difference. Not only do they have a serious knack for a chorus but on a bunch of the LP’s tracks, and on Fraternity Forefathers in particular, there is more than a hint of Math Rock that fans of Meet Me in St. Louis or first album Tubelord will seriously enjoy.

The post Krispy Kareem – Fraternity Forefathers appeared first on [edit] radio.