Sheffield Streets – Amy Allison (Urban Myth Recording Collective)
In this, the hardest thing is….
I must forget, ignore, her cult, her father, her partners, her history, the players, the craftsmen. I must disregard the many lines of text glowing from pc screens and smoldering on white paper press releases, and take the music the words the mood and the tension and write about that, forget the rest.
Her latest creation is like a cat that has not yet learned to purr, a cat that cannot fully relax, is coiled within its soul tight to the point of breaking, a cat who desires the comfort of love, of release, but the emotions the fears the memories do not allow it to reach that comfort yet. Which is wonderful for us, cause instead we are given these songs these gateways to this strange exquisite world.
She manages to make us nostalgic for places we have never been to, fall in love with ghosts of angels, and makes us want to kiss the totally WRONG type of person and flirt with those monsters we concoct in the mists of our fine delusions.
In many ways these are recipes for escape.
They are maps of dream worlds and sketches of broken hearts, scrawled pretty then crumpled up and thrown into the fire where they turn into jittering words that slide into tunes, which play gentle before us.
One of the albums of the year for me.
Listen to tracks from this album on this AND next weeks NBT podcast