When an artist decides to reinvent themselves, there can often be a good amount of risk involved. Will their existing fans not like the change? Will new fans have questions about the different name? Nick Murphy, fka Chet Faker, decided to face these potential challenges head on when he released his debut album, 

, under his birth name. The name change was partially inspired by the legendary producer Rick Rubin, who became a mentor to Murphy over the last few years. Rubin first suggested the 

, and in the spirit of full transparency and honesty to himself, Murphy decided to revert to his birth name. The shift has since opened a new creative avenue for Murphy, allowing him to distance himself creatively from his past works. By shrugging off the mantle of Chet Faker, Murphy has unveiled a certain emotional rawness that was previously masked by the moniker.

 took four years to create, as Murphy found himself bouncing around the world to write and record in different 

 with various creative collaborators. This in itself is a further departure from Murphy’s old persona, as he previously eschewed the idea of partnerships. In his opinion, the exchange of energies in the writing process is extremely personal, which has led him to turn down high-profile collaborations in the past (ahem, 

). However, Murphy has since changed his tune, working with Dave Harrington of Darkside and engineer Phil Weinrobe to create 

. The trio got along so well that there are now talks about starting a new project together, which is tentatively titled “Nick Murphy and the Program.” Through these various professional relationships, Murphy has allowed himself to expand outwards from lo-fi electronica, exploring acoustic piano, funk, and orchestral avenues on 

. The result is an intriguing cornucopia of different genres contained within one album; Murphy is like a multitalented kid in a candy store, exploring his newfound creative freedom with abandon. However, the flow of the album can appear distracted at times, with, it plays almost as a mixtape of Murphy’s own creations.

 is a strong debut album for Nick Murphy. “Hear It Now” is an inspiring opener that slowly burns to a satisfying crescendo and proves to be a good introduction for old and new fans alike. Murphy has yet to fully shed himself of Chet Faker here, but he’s experimenting with maximalist instrumentals that swirl intricately around his vocals, rather than falling back on his previous signature of sleepy loops. “Harry Takes Drugs on the Weekend” features narrative-based lyrics and engaging instrumentals, which are decidedly orchestral but still remain generally accessible to a diverse listener audience.

“Never No” moves at a nice clip without ever feeling pressured; Murphy has always had a knack for manipulating time with his music. The track is the most traditional on the album from a songwriting perspective, and thus is a great stand-alone feature. The instrumentals are pleasantly layered, and an ever-building horn section adds a sense of progression and climax that other tracks, such as the loping “Novacaine and Coca Cola,” never quite reach. Murphy’s unique vocals soar to unprecedented heights as well, signaling a sense of freedom that he never fully expressed as Chet Faker. “Believe (Me)” is a gorgeous stripped-down version of Murphy that has previously only been seen in live performances. Amidst all the change and expression on 

, this track seems to represent his purest form. However, in the spirit of experimentation, Murphy can’t resist a little twist towards the end. The electronic devolution comes as a welcome surprise after being lulled into a sense of acoustic complacency.

A few tracks on the album are a little less self-assured. For the most part, they show significant promise but fail to deliver where it counts. “Sunlight” hovers in a tame, middling space for three and a half minutes without much movement or creative expression. “Novacaine and Coca Cola,” which clocks in around six minutes, has so much potential for an epic build but instead just sizzles complacently. “Dangerous” is probably the closest to indie pop that Murphy gets, but in the context of the rest of the album it becomes “dangerously” derivative. “Message You at Midnight” is a promising closer, but after the quietly stunning “Believe (Me),” it feels like an afterthought. At the end of the day, 

 proves to be an excellent exercise in rebirth and creative evolution for Murphy. There will always be some missteps as an artist navigates new artistic terrains. For the most part, Murphy deftly moves into his new persona, and it is clear to see he has found a skin that he finally feels comfortable in.

Nick Murphy solidifies his new identity on ‘Run Fast Sleep Naked’

WRBB’s Juliana Van Amsterdam sits down with composer and jazz vocalist Amanda Ekery.

I spoke with Amanda Ekery, a talented composer and jazz vocalist, one early morning to discuss her latest album release and her thoughts on sexism in the jazz industry. Ekery was gearing up to celebrate the November 3rd release of 

a jazz album that tackles the pervasive culture of sexism in the jazz community. When writing lyrics for the tracks, Ekery drew from her personal experiences, jazz industry exposés, and interviews that she conducted with several young female jazz artists. Ekery is a committed teaching artist, and has held countless female-centric workshops and lectures while on tour or performing at various jazz festivals. In all of her ventures, Ekery places an emphasis on inclusion and collaboration, and incorporates alt rock and improvisational arrangements into her compositions and performances.

Ekery founded the El Paso Jazz Girls program in 2017, a free program for female-identifying students who have an interest in learning more about jazz. The program is taught by female jazz artists and does not feature any particular instruments. Ekery explained that she started El Paso Jazz Girls after discovering that there have only been seven girls in the past decade who qualified for the Texas state jazz ensemble. She believes that every community can benefit from these types of local programs, as they foster a communal desire to see girls explore their passions.

Ekery believes that now more than ever, the jazz community needs to recognize the issue of systemic sexism in the industry. She described how over time, jazz become highly institutionalized; it is very rare nowadays that a jazz musician has not been trained at a school. Thus, professional prowess is cultivated in a school setting, where women are underrepresented. The result is the production of cookie-cutter musicians, and the effect only snowballs from there. Due to their exposure to additional opportunities and connections, men in the jazz community are able to foster stronger relationships and gain more recognition, than their female counterparts. Ekery’s solution is to hire more female jazz members in ensembles and change the repertoire that is taught to include more works by female musicians. In essence, Ekery’s main focus is talking about these issues and working to increase female visibility within the jazz community.

Ekery decided to increase visibility through her music by making an album devoted to the same issues she has encountered in her career as a female jazz musician. 

 is built on the notion that the “keys” that women acquire in their careers lead nowhere. Dreams and ambitions are fostered, only to be crushed in a mountain of red tape or blocked by the glass ceiling, effectively “locking” the women out of opportunities. While she finds expressing her message through music “artistically fulfilling” on a personal level, Ekery noted that conducting her workshops, lectures, and the El Paso Jazz Girls program led to more direct, measurable progress overall.

So, what’s next? Ekery said she is currently planning a March tour for 

 and will definitely be popping by her old Boston stomping grounds. When not performing, she wants to do more workshops. Additionally, Ekery has high hopes for the expansion of El Paso Jazz Girls in the next year. Whatever her future endeavors may be, Ekery has the passion and creative mind to make it happen. Be on the lookout for this rising jazz star’s next visit to the Boston area in 2019!

Addressing Sexism in the Jazz Industry: A talk with Amanda Ekery

is especially pedestrian, presented as one long conversation with his listeners.

There comes a time in every aging rocker’s life where they produce a highly personal mid-life contemplation, and the time for Kurt Vile is now. Now approaching 40, the multi-talented musician turns even more reflective on his latest release, 

. Having established himself firmly in the surfer-dad-rock genre, Vile has begun to stretch his boundaries, dipping his toes into keyboard synth and playing with tempo. His lyrics, however, rarely stray from highly ruminative topics such as the wear and tear of tour life, his fear of flying, and a sense of encroaching loneliness and general malaise. As ever, Vile presents his thoughts in a highly informal manner, using hypnotically repetitive instrumentals as a pedestal for his layman lyrics.

runs the risk of blending into one long, weird monologue, there are tracks that are worth a return visit. The album opens with ‘Loading Zone,’ a classic Kurt Vile track that genially rolls along. ‘Hysteria’ evokes twanging, Lord Huron-esque instrumentals while Vile’s signature drawl croons a whimsical love letter. ‘Bassackwards’ introduces a new instrumental approach, pairing Vile’s acoustic guitar with sliding synth melodies. The result is an atmospheric track grounded by Vile’s familiar vocal patterns, and the lyrics displaya sense of regret about his frequent absences from his loved ones. ‘One Trick Ponies’ provides some exceptional background vocals, a feature Vile does not often utilize, adding a whole new dimension to his normal songwriting technique. ‘Rollin With The Flow’ provides some strong America vibes, a welcome stylistic change that evokes some of Vile’s old inspirations. ‘Mutinies’ is a darker track, hammering home Vile’s insecurities in a beautiful, slow-burn rotation.

is especially pedestrian, presented as one long conversation with his listeners. He is in no hurry to get his message out, choosing instead to sonically experiment between meandering verses about life, love, and death. While Vile typically delivers music that is lackadaisical and darkly clever, this album seems to touch a bit deeper, as if his happy-go-lucky façade has begun to crack. 

requires a feat of near herculean patience, but it’s worth listening to his whole spiel at least once. The album may not feature repeat listenability, but it has a way of sticking to your brain long after the final notes of ‘(bottle back)’ fade. Maybe it’s because of Vile’s established musical prowess, or maybe it’s because he has a knack for spinning hyper-realistic verses that are so universally acceptable. That’s something for you and him to decide together.

Kurt Vile releases full-length ‘Bottle It In’

Everyone knows about the zero-to-hero stories, the shooting stars who burn out as quickly as they rise, but little attention is paid to bands who consistently put out pretty good material and slowly build up a fan base over many years.

The effect that mid-level fame has on artists is fascinating. Everyone knows about the zero-to-hero stories, the shooting stars who burn out as quickly as they rise, but little attention is paid to bands who consistently put out pretty good material and slowly build up a fan base over many years. The Paper Kites are a perfect example of this mysterious latter category. Based out of Melbourne, they have been on the indie scene now for the better part of the decade, and have recently built a pretty solid fan base in the U.S. since the 2013 release of their debut LP, 

The Paper Kites completed their first North American tour after the 2015 release of 

, which was produced by the prominent American producer Phil Ek. Along the way, they garnered a solid reputation among North American fans, which led to a frequent touring schedule, keeping them from their loved ones back home. 

 which was created as a book-end their other 2018 release, 

is a reflection of the mid-level fame mindset: trying to strike a balance between setting down roots and pursuing your artistic dream.

Musically, the album presents as an extension of 

, but now with the occasional heavy-handed 80’s pop ballad. The Paper Kites started out as a folk-centric band, and certain tracks (‘Flashes’) feature acoustic guitar; for the majority of 

 however, heavily-produced electric guitar and drum tracks dominate. The Paper Kites’ sound is tight and cohesive, but is somewhat lacking the rawness and ingenuity of 

; tracks begin to bleed into one another towards the middle of the album, and never quite reach the mark of melancholy, wistful reflection.

The album does open and close on a strong note: ‘Give Me Your Fire, Give Me Your Rain’ comes in with a bang after the unnecessary intro track, ‘A Gathering on 57th,’ shaking away the cobwebs from the band’s three-year hiatus. ‘Don’t Keep Driving’ is another gem, a simmering track that plays to the band’s strengths and redeems the album’s more middle-of-the-road tracks.

Sam Bentley is a creative and talented front-man, with a knack for storytelling and incorporating concepts into his work. He wrote both 2018 releases during a year-long break in between tours, and most of the tracks were penned while he was 

 at a local Melbourne movie theatre; ‘Midtown Waitress’ reflects this cinematic influence as the one narrative-based track. Yet he seems to have fallen on familiar, unimaginative tropes for 

; the tracks are comforting, almost cocoon-like, but never quite fully engage the listener.

The Paper Kites release lackluster ‘On The Corner Where You Live’

Mitski Miyawaki is officially done acting as your diary. Tired of fans projecting their inner turmoil and romantic pitfalls onto her, she has created her latest album, 

, an exquisite version of musical make-believe. Mitski, who self-released her first studio album 

 in 2012, gained a reputation amongst the indie community as an industry “sad girl,” a title she has historically bristled against. Enter 

, a short anthology that traverses the highs and lows of “adult love.” Every track, which average two minutes each, is a vignette that portrays the realities of love, placing the desire, lust, and longing that accompanies a new crush alongside the resentment, silence, and nostalgia that precede the death throes of an aging relationship.

The album serves as Mitski’s fearless foray into narrative-forward lyricism, which she approaches with the deftness of an experienced fiction writer. This spectacular musical thesis is embodied in full by the title, which serves a dualistic function. “Be the cowboy” is a phrase that Mitski has claimed is an inside joke with herself, coined to give her the confidence to make exactly the music she feels like making. However, the phrase also acts as a sort of directive; it is easy to lose oneself in the narrative of these fourteen personalities.

Mitski’s works have always had a theatrical flair to them – she originally intended to major in Film in college – and 

 is no exception. Combining powerful, poetic lyrics with varied instrumental themes, the album fully engages the listener, engulfing them in a flurry of emotions, memories, and soundscapes. Each track has a unique musical tone, and Mitski bounces from disco (‘Nobody’) to jangly pop (‘Me and My Husband’) to western music imbued with synth and watery guitar (‘Lonesome Love’). Yet the grab-bag assortment of genres is far from displeasing; rather, it helps to delineate the vignettes, signaling to the listener that another story is unfolding.

 opens with the explosive ‘Geyser,’ a track that lives up to its name. Mitski’s voice enters slowly, as if from a dream, becoming steadier and more feverish until she explodes with a cry of undying devotion, and the instrumentals help to portray the simmering, uncontrollable feelings of an all-consuming love. ‘Why Didn’t You Stop Me?’ immediately follows, jarring the listener from the theatrical display with a cheery pop song that carries some hefty emotional baggage. In ‘Lonesome Love,’ Mitski taps into the millennial concept of “back on my bullshit,” portraying a woman who is her own worst enemy when it comes to love. She croons gut-punch lyrics like “Nobody butters me up like you do, and nobody fucks me like me,” over a gently swaggering western melody.

‘Nobody,’ which is arguably both the most intriguing and accessible track on 

, is seemingly more autobiographical. Written during her solo holiday abroad, the track reflects on the nature of loneliness and the desire for honest companionship over a peppy disco beat, another laudable example of Mitski’s use of dissonance between music and lyrics. At the key change, Mitski begins to literally disappear, her voice replaced with a haunting recording that simply repeats “nobody” until that too begins to break down.

‘Two Slow Dancers’ proves to be a haunting, beautiful album closer, with Mitski at her most theatrical. The track plays as if ripped straight from a movie scene, depicting an aging couple fighting to keep the relationship alive. Mitski, who at 27 could not know such a feeling, adeptly addresses a common, terrible fear that grips so many married couples: how can we maintain the romance once the novelty has worn off? The instrumentals underline this sentiment, entering at a glacial pace, eventually reaching shimmering heights at the climax of the song before settling back down to their starting dynamics.

 with two powerful tracks – the first about a feverish love, and the last about a love that is dying – Mitski manages to encapsulate an entire range of human emotion in half an hour. The raw, passionate power that lies in her music is the reason why fans resonate so much with Mitski. With 

Cowboy, everybody wins: Mitski’s experimentation with fiction allows her to be a vehicle for our memories, the stimulus for our emotional pain, and the impetus for our reflection, and she is able to rise above the fray, untouched, ever the true artist.

Mitski shines once again with ‘Be the Cowboy’

Shoto Mas Inc. / Young Turks Recordings 

 is not what one might expect for a jazz album, but it manages to perfectly encapsulate the energy of the tenor saxophonist-producer-composer’s latest release. Washington appears in the foreground cloaked in decadent gold and cerulean, as if he was plucked from a Klimt painting. He is grounded by the water and sky around him, but a clear reflection gives the illusion of a floating vision – Washington exists both on Earth and in Heaven. The album, a sixteen-track behemoth that stretches past two hours’ listening time and is divided into an 

 side, both hinges around and expands upon this vivid imagery. Washington’s compositions are expansive, demonstrative, and celebratory, taking a sweeping look at the world before turning skyward to a more idealized, reflective space.

, Washington utilizes his 10-piece band the Next Step to provide interesting and ear-catching solos, and incorporates the vocal talent of Patrice Quinn and Dwight Trible to pack a meaningful punch as the band navigates the swirling, heightened emotion of his arrangements. Take, for example, the album opener ‘Fists of Fury.’ Washington borrows themes from Bruce Lee’s 1972 opus 

 and directs that energy into a rallying cry of the oppressed: “We will no longer ask for justice / Instead, we will take our retribution.” In general, the use of choral singing is rarely seen on the jazz scene, but Washington has a knack for incorporating swelling vocal compositions into his instrumentals, a continuous trend from his 2015 release 

imbue the standard jazz arrangements with a swelling sense of urgency and purpose.

Washington has often been decried by the ivory tower jazz community as blasé and unimaginative, but his works famously speak for themselves in contention of this criticism. While his arrangements may not be “avant-garde,” they pave a new, more expansive path. Jazz has long been considered the fodder of the music elite; Washington has helped to deliver an imaginative form to the masses, gaining notoriety through his involvement with Kendrick Lamar’s 

. Additionally, Washington pulls from a variety of music genres and influences to supplement the album, including hip-hop, gospel, orchestra, and the Los Angeles fusion-jazz scene of decades past. All of this is combined to create a truly kaleidoscopic opus. For example, compare and contrast ‘Vi Lua Vi Sol’ and ‘Street Fighter Mas,’ which are sandwiched together on the 

 side of the album. The former has an irresistibly smooth 

 vibe and utilizes the vocoder to create a warped, intriguing vocal solo; the latter, on the other hand, is a swaggering track that struts along with the aid of Dontae Winslow’s trumpet solo. These two tracks come right after the sweeping ‘The Space Travellers Lullaby,’ a ten-minute track that could be dissected in an entire review alone.

A potential downside – if one could call it a downside – to 

 is the sheer enormity of the album. It proves to be a rather daunting task for the average listener, and even as a fan of both jazz and Kamasi Washington, I had to initially break the album down across multiple listening sessions in order to prevent listener’s fatigue. And yet, the expansiveness of the album may very well be indicative of a greater journey, both earthly and ethereal, on which Washington serves as our guide; jazz as a vehicle for enlightenment.

Kamasi Washington releases full-length ‘Heaven and Earth’

The prized British musician’s third full-length release is a marked departure from his earlier ventures, leap-frogging from the folksy 

(2014) to a grander, more experimental style. Howard utilizes soundscapes throughout 

, creating a diverse tapestry that moves naturally; the tracks melt and flow together without sacrificing their individuality. A creative and multi-talented musician who was a recipient of the prestigious Brit Awards in 2013, Howard has shifted his sound to become bolder and broader, leaning into instrumental breaks and diverse chord progressions without sacrificing his poetic lyricism. 

 serves as an ode to nature’s unpredictability and vastness, with Howard continuing to draw from his experiences in the Cornish countryside.

One of Howard’s greatest talents is his impressive ability to move between lyric-heavy tracks, where poetry is crucial in conveying the tone of the piece, and tracks that exist in a space of few words, relying on the instrumentals and composition to carry the emotional message. Historically, Howard has drawn from his childhood influences of wordsmiths like Joni Mitchell and Simon & Garfunkel to build his narrative. Howard continues to use lyrics to deliver his message on 

, but also makes an effort to show rather than tell, communicating through instrumentals rather than vocals. In tracks like ‘What the Moon Does,’ he invokes Swedish-Argentinian singer-songwriter José González, with looping, dreamy instrumentals backing soft, phlegmatic vocals. In others, he plays around with Sigur Ròs-esque soundscapes, producing the instrumental crescendo in ‘A Boat to An Island on the Wall’ that slowly burns and builds for four minutes.

 is awash in tonal color, reflecting a summer sky during a thunderstorm: inky purples, bruised blues, and slate greys (‘Someone In the Doorway,’ ‘Murmurations’) break at times into a brilliant sepia (‘Nica Libres at Dusk,’ ‘There’s Your Man’). The instrumentals are rarely at a standstill, and they alternately simmer and soar; on certain tracks, the rollicking combinations of electric guitar, drums, synths and strings threaten to swallow Howard’s voice. In other tracks, however, they are docile and subdued, yielding to Howard’s songbird croon. The use of instrumental breaks on 

 is a relatively new feature for Howard, and one that may prove divisive for his fans. Patience is certainly a virtue when listening to this album, and listeners unfamiliar or unwilling to lose themselves to the more experimental aspects may write 

 off as being too wandering, too laborious. I would argue, however, that it is the aural journey that makes this album so intriguing. We should all give into the “road less traveled” at some point in our lives, and Ben Howard is here to help us make that a reality.