This is shaping up to be one of the singles of spring 2021, a joint venture from Craig Bratley and Amy Douglas. No In Between kicks off with Italo/ Balearic analogue synths and a beat taken at a hot summer's day pace with typically strong vocals from Amy before some bleeps from Sheffield circa 1990 are beamed in sideways. There's a dub remix too, a slowed down, bass led head- nodder. You can find both at Bandcamp.
Back from our isolated mini- break in south west Scotland yesterday, three days in remote places- Cairn Holy (a pair of Neolithic chambered burial chambers), Caerlaverock Castle, a walk in a forest near Gatehouse Of Fleet, some quiet beaches at Southerness, Rockliffe and Kippford, fish and chips at Kirkcudbright (this was the most interaction we had with people, ordering food while wearing face masks, gloves and standing behind a line taped out on the floor, which when you think about it makes you realise what a bizarre world we are living in this year)- and a caravan site.
Roisin Murphy is having a peak couple of years. Following her run of 12" singles two years ago she's now been leading into an album coming out in September. In 2019 she put out Incapable, an monstrously deep and funky piece of machine house and the dazzling disco of Narcissus. Now she has sent this out into the world, written by New York songwriter and force of nature Amy Douglas and once again recorded with Sheffield's Richard Parrot Barratt aka Crooked Man. Something More is eight minutes of slowed down, slow burning, spacious groove with a sense of what we have lost in 2020 and the fact that we all currently feel the need for something more.
Sean Johnston was playing this last night at the Convenanza festival in Carcasonne and it is a beauty, a full on trippy modern house record, with the double threat of the powerful New York vocals of Amy Douglas and two superbly Balearic remixes, woozy, mechanical funk, from Crooked Man (Crooked Man is Richard Barratt, DJ and producer from Sheffield, city of bleep. The original mix was done in New York by Tim Wagner, co-writer). The sort of record that sounds like the dark corners of nightclubs, smells of dry ice and feels like a shot of something strong coursing through your veins.
