The Chills’ Martin Phillipps at his finest
The 2019 documentary The Chills: The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps opens with a dire diagnosis.
With 80 per cent of his liver not functioning, Phillipps is given an almost one-in-three chance of dying within 12 months.
It goes on to detail an addiction to booze, drugs and adulation. His tyrannical reign over the rotating cast (21 lineups and counting) that made The Chills resemble a travelling carnival. But, most of all, it celebrates his songs, which embedded themselves in our cultural psyche and travelled the world, winning fans in far-flung places.
Without giving away any spoilers from the film, the new album Scatterbrain sounds like survival.
One of Aotearoa’s most celebrated songsmiths, Phillipps has nothing to prove to anyone but himself.
Musically, it’s in a similar class to all his work: melodic, melancholic with just a twist of hope, while lyrically reflecting what he’s endured and what he sees around him.
Scatterbrain the song is about our poor wee cerebra overwhelmed, as they are, by constant scrolling, fake news and information overload.
Caught in My Eye reckons with receiving his diagnosis, or perhaps other bad news and holding on to dignity, without slipping into desperate, emotional vulnerability.
He remains dignified (and droll), despite death looming large and mortality being the main theme here. There’s even a song called You’re Immortal.
Ten tracks clocking in at 31 minutes is typical of his economical sensibilities and Phillips is at his brightest, shiniest and cheekiest on Destiny.
In a seemingly reasonable request, he asks destiny for a bit of empathy, so he doesn’t have to face it all alone.
He also manages to rhyme with autonomy, not an easy word to pop in a pop song and indicative of his endearing lyrical quirks.
By the time the final major chord shift ascends Destiny into its triumphant final leg, it’s hard not to be caught up by his irrepressible charm.
British R’n’B singer Jorja Smith debuted with Lost & Found in 2018, sweeping critics off their feet and attracting highprofile collaborators like Kendrick Lamar. Be Right Back cements her status as one of the most alluring and exciting young voices to recently emerge from the small island nation.
You know that feeling when you think someone should like you more than they do? Smith does. ‘‘You’re the only thing that I need, you should be addicted to me,’’ she demands on album opener Addicted. Easily the poppiest track here, it evolves from radio-friendly consumable to an ode to self-empowerment. The rest of the record strips back, becoming simpler, more personal and powerful, as she carefully measures out her range of gifts song by song.
Resonating with delicate piano and heartbeat kick drums, Gone faces losing a loved one, without specifying if we’re talking death or the end of a relationship. It doesn’t matter really, the outcome for the heart can feel the same.
Bussdown bounces with boss mentality, but Home signifies the record’s emotional centre. Over a lonely guitar, she muses whether her dreams will really bring the satisfaction she imagines. Can she ever be content? Is a husband a good idea? Are other people really happy, or just projecting a veneer of happiness? Legitimate concerns.
Shout out to her vocal engineer who puts you close enough to her rich, full-bodied sound to experience autonomous sensory meridian responses. Obviously a woman with an impressive work ethic, more than one song references the hard grind to financial independence, but she’s already wary of fatigue.
‘‘You burn like you never burn out. You let yourself burn – and you burn yourself out,’’ she warns on Burn. Album closer Weekend again keeps her focus on self and self-independence. ‘‘Don’t work hard, just to spend it,’’ she sings to herself.
An up-and-coming artist slogging her way to the top, she has the skills, the savvy and the songs. She’s done the mahi, we get the treats.