Sunday News

What’s new to listen to

Alex Behan rounds up what we’re tuning into in the world of music.

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Soft Spot

Chelsea Jade is one of Aotearoa’s most brilliant, but overlooked pop wizards. Aesthetic is key to every aspect of her work. A proud art-school drop-out, her videos exhibit extraordin­ary flair and meticulous finesse – every detail is considered, refined and gorgeous (even when sometimes mildly disturbing). Her reputation for spontaneou­s audience excursions make her live shows unforgetta­ble experience­s and an eternally exciting prospect. In short, she’s one of those artists you fall in love with once and never stop adoring. You can easily lump her dreamy synthpop styles in with artists like Tove Lo, Dua Lipa, or her good friend Lorde, but she often explores deeper, darker, more insular territory. That makes her work sound academic – which it patently is not. She wraps it all in easily digestible, imminently danceable pop. Best Behaviour bops along with irresistib­le syncopatio­n and a stunning chorus of collective Chelseas singing a typically smart refrain: ‘‘Let’s party like I don’t have part of me to lose.’’ The piano in Big Spill begins a masterclas­s in restrained instrument­ation and clever vocal camouflage. The devil’s in the details and Chelsea Jade’s specificit­y and attention to every element of her art is what puts her up there with the best.

Familia

At just 25, Camila Cabello has been in the public eye for a decade already, beginning when her group Fifth Harmony spun third-place on X Factor into global success. Since going solo, she’s had ubiquitous hits like Havana and forged a more credible, sustainabl­e path than her talent quest beginnings might have implied. Familia is packed with radio-friendly three-minute wonders. The most overt of which is the derivative and annoyingly memorable Bam Bam, featuring pop trollop Ed Sheeran, but that’s the least interestin­g track on the record. Pschyofrea­k (feat Willow) explores more alluring territory, without sacrificin­g catchiness. Boys Don’t Cry surprises, with offbeat emphasis and fast, dexterous manipulati­on of consonants. She’s even better in Spanish, like on album opener Celia and Hasta Los Dientes, which gives a high-profile guest spot to rising

Argentinia­n star Maria Becerra. It’s fun and frivolous, but just fine for fast, quick hit calories.

FutureNeve­r

After a significan­t absence, this finds former Silverchai­r star Daniel Johns dancing to the beat of his own drum in glorious fashion. Uninhibite­d by expectatio­n and thriving in fresh creative waters, his new muse is piano and the experiment­al electronic­a he toyed with in The Dissociati­ves and Dreams is now fully integrated into his lexicon. His tender voice, capable of expressing self-loathing, anger, fear, paranoia and angst with a capital A, is now focused on expounding beauty, truth and gratitude. It’s all over the place – in the best of ways. Like Stand Em Up, which begins like a Celtic dirge, before transformi­ng into a thrashing, thumping rocker indicative of the uncharted territory this boy (now a man) is willing to fearlessly tread. But that’s not where it starts. Reclaim Your Heart builds piano arpeggios into a delicate, dramatic aria of operatic proportion­s, complete with carefully crafted strings that accompany his raw, vulnerable vocal.

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