In the last twelve months Queen of Hearts has had a pretty eventful year it must be said. Having gigged in America, done an acoustic session for BBC Introducing and garnered the interests of online establishments such as Popjustice, it is clear the sublime talent of Liz Morphew is finally being recognised at last. To end the year on a high the London-based songstress has released an ample slice of blizzardous electro-pop in the form of "Warrior". This latest effort sees Morphew collaborate with Australia's very own producing maestro Diamond Cut to marry organic tribal percussion with computational Italo-pop streams; imagine Madonna's "Frozen" but with a razorsharp lacquer finish and seamless instrumental interaction. Such a diverse concoction saunters majestically along at a decent tempo into each choral overspill making this track feel perfectly segmented and driven. There lies a mythical character to this single thanks in part to whirring basslines, undulating synth vapours and Morphew's emotive vocal detailing, adding a depth to "Warrior" that disassociates it from the usual chart slurry. Sounding like a cross between Grimes, Foxes and Little Boots, Queen Of Hearts defines elegance. Her sincere and contemporary musical excursions offer pop in a new guise; formidable and with tangible layers, there is no denying the girl has a bright future ahead indeed.
Incredibly Night Engine only formed back in January of this year. In that brief period they have already had new music bigwigs clamouring around and making positive comments; think of how The Vaccines or Mumford And Sons became overnight music sensations and you get the idea. The London quartet have fashioned a sound that journalists are interpreting as eighties throwback with the buzz word of "David Bowie" marauding articles left, right and centre. Night Engine's scintillating amalgams are a lively affair; anthemic, fervent and storming, mix The Killers and The Cribs and hey presto! "On and On" is perhaps the least recognised track from the band but it is their most rousing; a mash of creativity with fuzzy guitars, juddered vocal regalia, mammoth choruses and slick drum beats, it has it all. A song like this is designed for a large crowd for it's very structure, each thirsty note played, has the ability to cast aside reservations and ignite an energetic spark. It is therefore not surprising this band has stirred up such a huge interest. Their lively blend of manic indie furores and charismatic scuzzy pop is a welcome sound that transcends genre boundaries and hints to a promising future for the four Londoners.
While we knew all along that DWNTWN had never really disappeared we still very much missed them and their perfectly luxuriant soundscapes. Fear not though, DWNTWN are back properly this time with a dreamy collection of songs for our ears to feast on. The enigmatic L.A. trio of Jamie Leffler, Robert Cepeda and Jerrod Bettis seem to have finally found their feet as their latest four track EP "The Red Room" glides onto iTunes with a selection of songs that feel assured, confident even, of their purpose and with how they sound as a finished product. There is no disputing the fact that the tentative sprinkles of synthesising on their year old debut cut "Transition" have helped to generate a contemporary ethereal sound on "Stood Me Up". Rich in electronic whispers, stuttering bass warbles and watery keys this instalment glides along with magnificent poise right from the first audible note. The beautifully crafted introduction nudges each musical element into a concordant stream of shoegaze electronica and 'States-Pop' frivolities. Uplifting choruses and pristine synths bolster the package together neatly. Although it may seem fluffy and whimsical in appearance "Stood Me Up" is dissected by sharp, honest lyrics that scar the instrumental torso with detailed emotions. The track feels raw. Upfront. We like this candid approach. DWNTWN's dreamy electro-mists and meticulous sound portraits work in perfect unison on "Stood Me Up" and we cannot wait to hear more from the prosperous L.A. collective.
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