Loma – 'Ocotillo'

Back in early 2018, Loma put out their debut self-titled album on Sub Pop. I fawned over it upon its release, and the album's enduring beauty secured it top spot in my list of favourite albums of that year. In 2019, the band released the song 'Half Silences' – which has since disappeared from the internet, presumably as part of the roll-out for LP2 – and now we have the long-awaited announcement: Don't Shy Away, Loma's second record, will be released by Sub Pop on 23rd October.

Don't Shy Away album art by Lisa Cline

The brooding 'Black Willow', which caught the ear of none other than Brian Eno, was the first single off Loma. Don't Shy Away's first single proper, 'Ocotillo', initially feels like it's in a similar vein: the song opens at a restrained tempo, its simple swinging beat and loping bass creating a wide open space for the band to populate. While 'Black Willow' simmered with just-below-the-surface emotion throughout its runtime, 'Ocotillo' immediately feels more open-hearted. The bass pulse pauses to allow Jonathan Meiburg's Spirit of Eden-indebted electric guitar to periodically glimmer in the mix, and Emily Cross's voice is clear and pure. There's plenty of instrumental detail to catch the ear: congas add percussive interest to Dan Duszynski's lithe drums, while saxophone and clarinet swell and recede. Once Cross sings the words "wonderful disarray" towards the halfway point, all hell breaks loose. A squalling horn section overwhelms the mix as Cross's voice ascends into a scream that sounds more liberated than desperate, as if admitting her state of emotional chaos has allowed her to break free. The music certainly feels free, but it's not just a shortcut to a crescendo – the band ride out the stormy weather throughout the song's second half, never quite falling apart, yet transparently turbulent. It's as if 'Black Willow' and Radiohead's 'The National Anthem' had a love-child.

Loma band photo by Bryan C. Parker

During Loma's KEXP session in 2018, Meiburg likened Loma's creative process to collectively blowing a soap bubble that no one wanted to pop. That album's translucent beauty felt delicate and one-of-a-kind. 'Ocotillo', and 'Half Silences' before it, are early proof that Don't Shy Away is likely to be a bolder, more strident return, the band confident in their collective capacity to muster magic. 

Loma – Loma

The fact that Shearwater’s Jonathan Meiburg has chosen this musical path following 2016’s Jet Plane and Oxbow is heartening. For me, Cross Record’s Wabi-Sabi, released the same year, succeeded in all the ways JPAO stumbled – by paying heed to nuance, texture, atmosphere. JPAO felt like it was over-reaching, striving in vain for universality. Loma is intimacy incarnate.

The backstory goes some way towards explaining how this album ended up sounding the way it does. Shearwater and Cross Record (Emily Cross and Dan Duszynski) toured together, then Meiburg invited the duo to collaborate with him – but it's not quite the simple overlap between Shearwater and Cross Record one might expect. Meiburg's presence is subtle rather than overt. It's only really on mesmerising closer 'Black Willow' that Meiburg's voice is clearly heard, his backing vocals blending with Cross to create something both eerie and reassuring. In writing songs for Cross to sing, Meiburg has retreated to a more affecting songwriting style that brings out the best in everyone involved. The result is an album on which every moment feels lovingly crafted and deeply felt.

Whether tracing out delicate spider webs of sound ('I Don't Want Children'), digging deep into nightmarish ambient-rock ('White Glass') or channelling the beauty of late-era Talk Talk ('Sundogs'), Loma perpetually shifts across its 10 songs, while each piece feels drawn from the same well of inspiration. Learning that Cross and Duszynski's marriage came to an end during the album's creation only lends it further resonance.

I am extremely here for these songs, this sound. I hear vulnerability, sadness, defiance and tenderness. I feel it deeply. Over and over again. I doubt I'll hear a better record this year – and it's only March.

Tor Lundvall – A Dark Place

Discovering the work of Tor Lundvall has been something of a revelation. The prolific ambient musician and painter has released nearly 20 albums in the last 20 years, both independently and via Dais Records, yet I only heard of him last month when the single 'Quiet Room' was released from his new vocal-led album A Dark Place. Luke Turner of The Quietus described it as "the sweet spot between Talk Talk and Slowdive's underrated Pygmalion" – my interest was immediately piqued.

Digging back through Lundvall's discography unearths a very deliberate, consistent aesthetic. Each release tends to be themed around a sense of place, our relationship to nature, the weather or a time of day (e.g., Rain Studies, The Park, Night Studies, The Shipyard). A Dark Place, though notably nocturnal in feel, is more of a metaphorical place – the space one enters alone while reflecting upon our mortality. It's no surprise to learn that the album was influenced by the recent loss of Lundvall's father.

While his ambient albums create a lovingly rendered instrumental space for exploration on headphones, A Dark Place features Lundvall's vocal musings front and centre. He emotes in a mesmerisingly neutral tone, which creates a curious effect. His vocal presence is the focus on each of these eight tracks, yet his delivery and lyrics seem to do everything they can to slip into the shadows so the music can do the talking.

The music itself is typically beautiful for a Lundvall album, with plenty of focus on weighty, looped figures that exhale eerie reverb trails. Befitting a vinyl release it works well as a two-sided experience. Side openers 'Quiet Room' and 'Negative Moon' feel like companion tracks with their insistent bass pulse. At its conclusion, side A feels like it's fading away with 'The Invisible Man', while side B ends on a more hopeful note with the beautiful, lilting 'The Next World'.

Listening to several of Lundvall's previous instrumental albums while waiting for this release felt like stumbling upon a treasure trove, each release fully realised and deeply emotive. My expectations for A Dark Place were high. While there's an undeniably compelling atmosphere to this release, the vocal focus means there's less space for Lundvall's immersive environments to work their magic. As a result, the listener is left in a state of suspension, pulled between the worlds of ambient and downtempo pop. Nonetheless, this release is a grower – and a worthwhile introduction to Lundvall's immense discography.

[A Dark Place is available as a digital download via Bandcamp, and on vinyl from Dais Records.]