Howdy! I’d like to introduce a brand new feature where I bestow upon you my favourite new (and occasionally old) bangers that are currently occupying my fragile little headspace. I hope to update this as much as possible so the blog always has some semblance of fresh content. Here goes nothing…
First up, and the inaugural Tune In, is *drumroll please* Flyte with their latest effort, Please Eloise. These four whippersnappers, hailing from old London town, are still an unknown quantity in most parts – with only a handful of singles to their name. However, this track could well be a game changer. And in the cold winter months to follow, this tune is a welcome ray of effervescent sunshine.
While the verse is resplendent with glorious harmonies and tropical guitar licks, it’s the sugar-rush of a chorus where Flyte really hit it out the park. And this Eloise must be one hell of a lass, with jilted frontman Will Taylor repeatedly yearning for a bit of reciprocal loving. If he keeps this up, a restraining order may well be issued.
Though some may consider the tune a little kitschy, for me it’s a slice pop perfection – evoking the carefree, afro-beat stylings of an early Vampire Weekend. So it’s really no surprise these lads have already been enlisted as tour supports for huge names like Bombay Bicycle Club. And if Flyte continue to build up a head of steam on the hype machine, Please Eloise will undoubtedly be a staple of next year’s festival circuit.
Icon? Untouchable? Beatnik? The greatest rapper alive? In recent years, much has been said about Kendrick Lamar and his prolific output. From humble beginnings on West-Coast cuts like ADHD to his politically-fuelled stylings on King Kunta, no one right now is carrying the torch for hip-hop as much as this man.
But what makes him so unique? Granted, a number of Kendrick’s contemporaries may match, or even supersede him, lyrically. But it’s his fusion of gritty, observational musings accompanied with the most exquisite production that truly sets him apart. Though Section.80 was packed with promise, this formidable combo first came to the fore on the 28-year-old’s breakout record Good Kid, m.A.A.d City – which saw him take on the role of social commentator and become the mouthpiece for a new generation in urban USA. Chronicles of fatal gang feuds, the tumbling economy and other hardships in his native Compton were all presented in this semi-autobiographical memoir. It also helped that it was chock-full of bangers; very much thanks to the executive production of Dr Dre. Tight-knit, layered beats anchored by the heavyweight hooks of hits like Swimming Pools and Money Trees quite rightly garnered universal acclaim. Such was the success of K-Dot’s second studio album that it was perched prettily atop many a critic’s end-of-year lists – as well as bagging a whole host of accolades. Greatness beckoned for the hip-hop’s prodigal son.
And it was on March 15, 2015 when Kendrick Lamar was elevated to newer, dizzying climes; for this was the release date of To Pimp a Butterfly. Put simply, it revolutionised contemporary hip-hop. Never had there been a rapper so aware of their artistry – with each and every nuance a turn of sheer genius. The attention to detail on singles like Alright and the more understated These Walls truly warrant repeat listens and a damn good audio system. So, how did he achieve such levels of perfection? Answer: By warping a stagnant genre. Instead of opting for synthetic, bass-laden backing tracks that seem to pollute today’s charts, Kendrick harked back to a golden age of music. Strands of jazz and funk infuse the record, undoubtedly inspired by the likes of Prince and George Clinton, while the wordsmith himself brings it all back to date by fiercely tackling political and social themes. When meshed together, these components gift the album a shelf life that ensures it will remain a relevant staple of hip-hop culture for decades to come. The release also saw Kendrick reoccupy the role of narrator, yet this time from an even more introspective viewpoint. He addresses the insurmountable hardships faced by young black Americans, revisiting Compton yet again. Erudite social commentaries like these litter the record, but the artist is at his most poetic when reflecting on his own life – candidly rhyming about the demons that consume him and the unspoken pressures of fame. Quite frankly, To Pimp a Butterfly is a masterpiece. As a body of work it is totally unparalleled – ushering Kendrick Lamar to the head of hip-hop’s pack.
Don’t just take my word for it. A plethora of legends have all waxed lyrical about K-Dot. Most notably rap godfathers NWA, who hailed Compton’s brightest star in an excerpt which can be seen below.
Before this gushing becomes a full-blown ode to Kendrick Lamar, I leave you with this live performance from The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Clocking in at just over six minutes, dynamic fare is completely encapsulated. From his meticulous delivery of every single bar to quite possibly the most drilled backing group in the game, it’s truly a captivating sight to behold. Oh, and he’s still only 28 years old – giving him more than enough time to stamp an indelible mark of authority as the greatest rapper of all time.
Listen up. It’s on the rise – more and more are succumbing to tinnitus from live music. Isn’t it time people took notice? By Alex Copley
The builders getting to work on your neighbour’s driveway at an ungodly hour. A toddler bawling their eyes out on the bus home from work. The ear-splitting motorbike of a wannabe Hells Angel. Some noises are pretty infuriating, right? Yet, for most people, all calm and serenity is restored after a bout of bothersome ear shredding. In fact, once returning to a Zen-like state, they’ll have probably forgotten about the whole ordeal. But what if that incessant, hellish noise never went away? Welcome to life with tinnitus.
Though commonly regarded as a disease, tinnitus is actually a symptom which affects the ear – one of the most delicate components of a human’s anatomy. Dubbed the ‘invisible condition,’ it is a person’s internal perception of sound when no audible sound is actually present. Once a shatteringly loud sound destroys the microscopic hair cells of the inner ear, that’s it; the damage is irreversible and incurable. What ensues is nothing less than a life sentence of torment. Most sufferers are subjected to a high-pitched ringing sound, others may endure a perpetual series of whistles and clicks. The truth is, every sufferer’s affliction can be different.
In the majority of cases, noise exposure is a frequent cause of tinnitus. One of the biggest threats is harmfully loud music at gigs and festivals. Experts acknowledge that hearing damage can occur when sound surpasses 85 decibels, and with a typical gig registering at around 120, the perils are salient. Some outdoor festivals have even been known to reach 137 decibels – nearly as loud as a jet plane taking off at close range. Though its onset can be the result of a singular event, tinnitus is usually the consequence of cumulative damage over time.
For Adrian Smith, tinnitus manifested after years of touring as a musician. “It was May 1988. I still remember waiting for the high-pitched tone to fade from my head and wondering why it refused to go away,” recounts Adrian. “A few weeks later, after the familiar mellow tone had transformed into the harsh metallic buzz that it is today, I went to see my doctor who told me I had an incurable condition called tinnitus.”
Adrian began making music in the 70s, first as a solo electronic music artist and later as the singer and guitarist in a post-punk group. He then went on to form electro-band Click Click with his brother – playing extensively across Europe to a cult following. It was around this time when the unsafe listening practices began to settle in. He says: “Click Click had a reputation for having the loudest onstage monitors in Europe, probably because we used backing tapes and the technicians hadn’t yet developed those little headsets that bands like Radiohead use.” As a keen gig-goer, Adrian was also regularly subjecting himself to the aural onslaught of live shows ranging from the likes of zany experimentalist Frank Zappa to Brit psych-rockers The Groundhogs.
After six albums and five singles, all released between 1988 and 2014, Click Click finally decided to call it a day. Now aged 60 and father of three grown-up kids, Adrian happily resides in Luton with his wife and their beloved pooch. However, he continues to live with the burden of tinnitus – a stern reminder of his reckless listening habits.
“If I spend a long period on a computer or if I’m stressed or tired, the tinnitus increases; also, of course, if I’m recording with headphones I can expect to suffer for a while,” explains Adrian. At times, the ringing from tinnitus is so loud that he struggles to distinguish sounds in a noisy environment. “Don’t try to talk to me in a busy pub; I won’t hear a word you say,” jokes the affable ex-rocker.
When talking about his affliction, Adrian remains vehemently positive. While the condition is often linked to depression, stress and sleep problems, the 60-year-old refuses to let it get the best of him. However, he concedes that this can be incredibly tough at times. Having been plagued by insomnia due to tinnitus, Adrian is now learning to block it out when trying to sleep. He explains: “It involves working on a novel that’s never written down; instead it’s kept it in my head and worked on mentally. All I’m actually doing is concentrating on something other than the noise in my head; the complexities of working out a plot and narrative help me to block out the tinnitus.”
He’s even tried electro-stimulation therapy to alleviate the infernal buzz that haunts his ears. “The treatment involves sticking needles in your ears while having your fingers and toes wired up to a low voltage generator,” says Adrian. “It’s really quite pleasant, and the tinnitus actually fades for a while. It’s not a cure, but it’s definitely a temporary relief.”
Alleviation aside, what every sufferer really covets is the magic remedy; the cure for tinnitus. In the UK, it’s estimated that 10 percent of the population suffers from tinnitus. That’s more than a whopping six million people all perennially searching for the antidote. Unfortunately though, that won’t be coming anytime soon, if at all. To truly combat hearing damage at music events, the key is prevention – and this is done by undertaking safe listening practices. An aid which offers the most pragmatic of benefits is earplugs. Yet, more often than not, they are completely dismissed by live music revellers.
Of course, Adrian regrets not realising how much damage he was doing in his younger days. However, he also berates just how little was done to raise awareness at the time. “My attitude at a gig was the same as everyone else: ‘bring it on!’ I’ve never been to a gig where ear protection was an option.” He admits that if warned of the perils of loud music, things could now be a lot different for him. But what really angers Adrian, after all this time, is that hardly anything has changed towards improving the public’s perception of safe listening.
“I think there’s a general lack of awareness; full stop. Young people don’t think about damage to their hearing, they’re having too much fun to worry about such things – and I can’t see any earplugs on the concessions stands or today’s promoters adding a disclaimer to the bottom of a gig or festival poster to warn them. ‘Rihanna may damage your hearing’? Never going to happen. It’s just not cool.”
And that’s the sad reality. While cases of tinnitus and hearing damage from live music rocket, hardly any venues offer protection or guidance for patrons. What’s more, key players in the government and music industry are simply not striving to raise public awareness.
So, what does Adrian suggest? For one, he reckons venues should do more to inform the gig-goer – proposing something as elementary as providing earplugs and displaying clear warnings. Adrian acknowledges that the onus of care is on the punter, but they need to be made aware of the dangers before taking full responsibility. He says: “Ultimately the health services should be putting as much effort into warning young people about hearing damage as they do about diabetes, drugs and alcohol.”
He also thinks that if hearing loss organisations like Action On Hearing Loss and the British Tinnitus Association (BTA) had a bigger voice, the government may just back them. “At the moment, the government can’t even get a decent Keep Britain Tidy campaign going, and tinnitus appears to be a lot further down their list of priorities than dropping litter.” Outlining one idea he thinks could help, Adrian suggests: “A television ad campaign aimed at younger viewers would help immensely. Maybe the BTA could crowd fund such a project.
Audio: Examples of what tinnitus can sound like
Mark Baker is an ambassador for the BTA. Tinnitus crept up on him after years of gigging and performing infectious indie-pop under the guise of We Take Polaroids. He recalls: “The classic high-pitched drone, which we so classically notice after a night out DJing or from a live band, became something which never went. I almost felt a kind of claustrophobic sensation. A sense of not being able to get away from it, almost as an entity.”
Now, Mark is always equipped with his custom-made earplugs to ensure no further harm is inflicted, but the initial damage is something he will never be able to atone for. It constantly irks him. “I notice the problem most when I'm stressed; it's dreadful. I always hear it alongside the TV and other daily goings on.” Mark adds: “I am aware some people have bass tones in their tinnitus, which must be particularly awful.”
Over time he has noticed the sheer number of people who simply take hearing damage for granted because they do not recognise the potential dangers of certain social past-times. After all, this was a mistake he made himself. “What a lot of people don't grasp, is that it isn’t necessarily a gigantic sound system which does the damage,” Mark explains. “Of course it has a damaging effect over periods of time, but I really felt it was the smaller clubs, poor sound systems, pub bands and sub-standard monitors which did most of my damage.”
While Mark ardently champions the BTA by talking with sufferers to help them deal with the symptom, other contemporary musicians have also opened up about their tinnitus. High-profile names such as rapper Plan B, Britpop legend Liam Gallagher and Coldplay frontman Chris Martin have all expressed anguish regarding their affliction. The latter revealed to Action On Hearing Loss his years of torment after listening to blaring music as a teenager. For Martin, like many, “looking after your ears is unfortunately something you don't think about until there's a problem.” He laments not taking evasive action by considering the pitfalls of deafening live music. Now he wants young gig-goers to avoid the same fate as him – urging more people to wear ear defenders at concerts.
Although superstars like Chris Martin have hit the headlines talking about tinnitus, public awareness still seems to trough. Mark believes this is because there are few, if any, campaigns that highlight the problem. He thinks it’s time for governing health authorities to direct every ounce of effort into informing gig-goers about hearing health. He’d also like the government, working alongside venues, to mandate free earplugs for all patrons. Mark says: “I've been to some insanely loud shows in my time. How about some simple, cheap plugs which squash into your ear. So many more people would wear them if they were readily available.”
Mark then offers another viable solution: a sound level which must be universally acknowledged and strictly adhered to by every music venue and festival site. If implemented, under law and with stringent checks, this could ensure that audiences could safely enjoy music for longer – with a lower decibel level causing less impact. “Just an idea,” Mark concludes.
As chief sound engineer for DHP, who own a host of venues in Nottingham, Bristol and London, Dave McVea has a huge responsibility on his shoulders. Firstly, he must ensure that every single gig runs smoothly, without any technical hitch. But he also places a priority on keeping things safe. “We try to be responsible and have the decibel meter available so that we’re not going too loud,” the engineer says. “We keep it an acceptable enough level to give the music an impact, but not to rip people’s heads off. I think you don’t need to go any higher than 105 DB.”
Dave is in a rather unique position because he himself has had tinnitus for 20 years. Trying to specify what caused his symptom, he says: “It’s very hard to nail that one down because since the early 70s I’ve been going to concerts – and then I end up working in the industry for nearly 28 years. I’ve worked for many bands and venues, so it’s just something that’s accumulated over the years.”
He describes the noise as a “permanent hiss-like white noise” and it’s something he just can’t shake. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re awake or asleep – it’s always there,” Dave says. “It’s hugely affected me in later years in that I’ve been less confident in trusting my ears on the job.”
These days, Dave uses special plugs when he’s hard at work or enjoying a concert – just to conserve whatever’s left of his annihilated ears. The notion of wearing protection was pretty much non-existent in his day and it’s something he always bemoans. His advice for today’s gig-goer: “I know the young ones wouldn’t want to hear this but they really should pop in some hearing protection.” He also urges people to take breaks from the assault of loud music whenever possible.
Dave, who highlights a glaring naivety in young audiences, says: “There’s a bit of an ‘it will never happen to me’ type of attitude. You might hear a bit of ringing in your ears after one gig and it goes away, but then over the years you start to realise that the damage is done.” He attributes this ignorance to a lack of education and thinks hearing health is a serious topic which should surely be incorporated into the national curriculum. Dave adds: “It’s also something that’s not made a big deal of in the media.”
During his career, he admits that some bands, which he won’t name, “want everything turned up to 11.” However, Dave strives to keep the music at a safe level because he has first-hand experience of just how harrowing hearing damage can be. “It tries to defeat the purpose of what we’re doing, but most bands will listen when you make sense of it to them,” he explains. “You don’t have to compromise your sound to be more careful.” Though Dave ensures that all DHP venues stay below 105 decibels, there is a concern that other sound engineers are refusing to follow his suit. “I know of engineers out there that like to go louder with certain bands, but I really don’t believe there’s a need,” he says.
In 1989, a law was introduced to protect UK employees exposed to dangerous noise levels. The amended Control of Noise at Work Regulations 2005 puts a duty of care on employers to provide workers with hearing protection when sound surpasses 85 decibels. DHP strictly adheres to this legislation and Dave thinks similar regulations should be introduced so live music audiences can access earplugs free of charge. This is an extremely valid, and plausible, point. If law-makers have the power to protect all employees, surely the same powers can be exercised for the benefit of vulnerable gig-goers across the nation.
From working with countless tinnitus sufferers, Professor Deborah Hall knows a thing or two about the symptom. Stationed at Nottingham’s hearing unit for the National Institute for Health Research, she leads research projects on neuroscience and tinnitus. “Our work is primarily focused on trying to find new ways of assessing or treating hearing related problems to improve the quality of services that the NHS provides and the quality of people’s lives,” Hall explains.
She’s seen for herself how traumatic the affliction can be. Hall, who has been awarded by the British Society of Audiology for her services to the science, says: “Some people are very stoic and just get on with it. However, for a small proportion of people it is really bothersome and occasionally you do hear of tragic stories where people have committed suicide because their tinnitus is so bad.”
Sufferers are also putting more and more pressure on medical services – with around 300,000 new cases going through the NHS system every year. So, where do we actually stand in finding a cure? “We’re nowhere near that at the minute,” states Hall. “There are multiple challenges to finding a cure because tinnitus has lots of different causes. There’s a lot more funding being put into research on tinnitus presently. Funding always spurs on new discoveries, but we’re still looking for clues as to exactly how to develop effective treatments for different types of tinnitus. Ask me the question again in ten years and I might give you a different answer.”
With the current outlook of a cure bleak, Hall puts a huge emphasis on preventative measures like earplugs – the “first line of defence.” She’s seen the symptom plague so many live music fans; something they love can ultimately cause them chronic suffering.
It is extremely sad to see this torment increasing, blighting the life of each new case, when prevention can be that simple. Those in the know agonise over the perpetuation of such ignorance. So now is the time for change. Awareness is pitifully low and people need to be informed. So listen up. And this time hear and act.
This feature was written as part of the dissertation of my print journalism degree at Nottingham Trent University.
Below is a mock-up image of the article in the Guardian Weekend magazine.
On the eve of her largest headline tour to date, Marika Hackman recalls the "hellish" start to her live career – where nerves threatened to get the better of her. "I used to not be able to eat before shows. When you're playing as a support act and no one is listening, it gets really gruelling."
Now, the 23-year-old is gearing up for a 17-date run across the UK and is fully accustomed to life on the road. However, she admits there's one bad tendency that she hasn't been able to shake off.
"I have this terrible habit that when I do mess up my first instinct is to swear quite loudly down the mic," she chortles.
Marika is set to grace the Bodega on Saturday March 28 and she is no stranger to the revered venue. In fact, her most recent of forays came only a few months ago. So what's different this time?
"It's going to be funny because it will be a solo tour without the band. I'm excited because it's a return to a really raw and intimate show," she explains.
"It's just me up there with the audience. The songs are as they were when I wrote them sitting on bed at home – there's no embellishment."
Marika recently released her debut album, We Slept At Last, to critical acclaim. Although most artists tend to shy away from reading reviews of their work, she was overwhelmed by the gleaming response.
She adds: "It's an immense relief when you spend so long making something and then get it out there."
When queried about the album's themes, she cites them as "loneliness and the acceptance of it" and "the capacity for darkness all humans have". These are all rather solemn topics on paper, but Marika manages to transpose them onto record in a harrowing manner.
Her upcoming single, Ophelia, is a poignant tale of spurned love which teems with all the traits of an accomplished wordsmith. This comes as no surprise when Marika recollects her early penchant for songwriting.
"Instruments were put in front of me at a very early age so I would always try and write. When I was 14 and I started to learn the guitar was when I really wrote songs properly because it was an instrument I could finally get my head around."
She also uses songwriting as tool for coping with her most intrinsic of anxieties.
"My way of making sense of it all is writing about it. I edit it a bit and make it more abstract because I don't want to put my heart on the line for everyone to judge," she concedes. "I like to keep a protective shield."
Through the years, Marika has noticed an improvement in her writing, but she isn't keen on resting on her laurels. In fact, she's already pushing herself with a view to album number two.
"I've started writing for it and have got a couple of songs already," she reveals. "I want to get those written and get back into the studio as soon as possible. It's my favourite part of this job."
She's even keen to write while on the road – something she hasn't done before.
"It's something I really want to do on this upcoming tour. Generally I find that there's not enough time and personal space to write because it's a very private thing."
For those unfamiliar with a Marika Hackman live show, she labels it as an intense, yet intimate, atmosphere "full of abstract, grungy folk."
Having overcome any initial jitters in the fledgling stages of her career, the songstress now boasts a compelling stage presence. By taking a stripped back approach to her live fare, this will only be further intensified when her next venture to Nottingham rolls around. Just watch the language this time, Marika.
Swathed beneath a veil of mystery, Young Fathers orbited into the public consciousness after last year’s shock Mercury Prize victory – staving off competition from the likes of Royal Blood and Damon Albarn.
Though still not an established household name, at the Rescue Rooms it was plain to see why they’re held in such lofty regard.
The trio, hailing from Edinburgh, have been a tough act to label throughout their fledgling existence. Though rooted in hip-hop territory, they traverse paths where art rock, Motorik and electro all intersect. It’s a truly inimitable blend which is salient from the get-go.
Anchored by a touring drummer, the group tear through a visceral set – pouring out their soul over dystopian beats. On-stage, their chemistry is mesmerising. With essentially three distinct frontmen, each member constantly grapples for centre stage, to the extent that they coalesce into one frenetic entity.
Of all attributes, discord is a tenet of Young Fathers’ trademark sound. While Ally Massaquoi’s graceful vocal momentarily softens the intensity, cohorts Kayus Bankole and G Hastings spit caustic rhymes of angst and disaffection. The band’s charm lies in this unique incongruence.
Breakout track Get Up sees the trio amped up to the highest of planes. In what is the closest they’ll get to a fully-fledged hip-hop banger, the group urge the listener to “get up and have a party.” This, their mantra, is delivered with unbridled vigour.
Amidst all the chaos, there are lulls of undeniable beauty. Low, from award-winning album Dead, is a wistful number which further showcases Massaquoi’s soulful warble. Hanging over a plangent backbeat, the track throttles into life when reaching its explosive hook.
At a time when live music can be so insipid and predictable, along come Young Fathers. By championing a genre-bending ideology, the frantic three-piece more than justify the buzz that precedes them. If ever in doubt, it’s now time to believe the hype.
A hookworm is a parasitic organism which creeps into and inhabits its host. Akin to their namesake, this burgeoning five-piece from Leeds, create a similar effect at their visceral live show.
It's tough to pigeon-hole Hookworms. At a push, they're best described as engineers of psychedelic noise rock.
With a glut of synths and all sorts of frills at their disposal, the group manufacture an inimitable, sprawling sound.
Showcasing cuts from their 2014 release, The Hum, it becomes salient that every nuance in every track is a deliberate touch of artistry.
Songs like The Impasse and Radio Tokyo crescendo, note by note, into hulking anthems and a sea of bobbing heads bow in approval.
For most part of their set, the Rescue Rooms is transformed into a cacophonous box of throbbing feedback. The intensity is unmitigated. And they are angry – very angry. Frontman MJ's guttural refrains intersperse with thrashing, violent guitar strokes to frightening effect.
You should need to sign a waiver prior to a Hookworms gig. There is little to no respite as the group execute what is an all-out sensory assault. At times, this can overwhelm – particularly when the set heads wayward at its mid-point as tracks begin to segue into one long thrum.
Admittedly Hookworms are a challenging listen, but once they have you in their clutches, it's a wholly rewarding experience. Set closer Retreat epitomises their fare. Cymbals crash, guitars wail and synths resonate for an utterly enthralling climax.
In full stride, they are a beguiling force majeure – but as is the nature of their sound, they are an acquired taste. If you really want to reap the rewards of this band, just free your mind, take a deep breath and let Hookworms slowly creep into your conscience.
Michael Shuman has had little time to relax after a hectic few weeks. The Mini Mansions multi-instrumentalist has only just returned to home soil in Los Angeles after traversing the United States on a support tour with ubiquitous rock n’ roll newbies Royal Blood.
His band are also hard at work with the release of their second LP, The Great Pretenders, very much on the periphery.
And Mini Mansions aren’t resting on their laurels just yet. They are currently on the road supporting Brit Award winning buddies Royal Blood, including a sold out show at Rock City.
Shuman, who you may also recognise as bassist of arena-churning monoliths Queens of the Stone Age, reminisces on his budding relationship with the British breakthrough duo.
“We get along really well with Royal Blood. I met Mike probably a year and a half ago at a Queens show and we’ve played some festivals together and hung out. We had fun on this last run and they’re up for the party, I’ll tell you that much,” Shuman muses.
With the Royal Blood hype seemingly percolating all over the world it was no surprise that this upcoming tour would be an instant sell out.
Is it a daunting prospect filling the support slot for one of the most in-demand bands of the past year?
“Supporting other bands is tough. You’re trying to win over a crowd that either doesn’t know you or doesn’t care – they just want to be drinking and waiting for Royal Blood. It’s tough, but I kind of like the challenge and feeling like I’m an underdog going into a game.”
The LA three-piece have already had a taste of the UK this year, managing to squeeze in a London headline gig in between a laborious touring schedule. On the gig, Shuman says: “We did loads of shows with Royal Blood and then to come to London to our own people in a small venue was super fun.”
It was at this show at the Lexington where Mini Mansions unveiled a very high-profile collaboration – with Arctic Monkeys’ indie deity Alex Turner. Michael compares the track, Vertigo, to a 90s West Coast hip-hop standard.
“We had this idea that Tyler, our keyboard player and vocalist, would take the first verse and then maybe I would take the second verse – having a different voice come in.”
Although the collaboration came about organically, the band initially imagined the track in a completely different way.
“I envisaged some kind of British thug character from a Guy Ritchie movie so we tried a bunch of different things and spoke to a number of people. But then Al had been hanging out with us a lot in the studio, so when we went to do the vocals it was a no-brainer. He wrote his own lyrics and melody for that verse – and that was it.”
If that collaboration wasn’t impressive enough, then Mini Mansions really up the ante on single Any Emotions – featuring none other than The Beach Boys’ founding member Brian Wilson. For Michael, this was a pipe dream which became a reality, but he admits that he never got to meet him in the studio.
“Someone from our label was working on the recent Brian Wilson record and asked our bass player Zack to play on one of his songs – which was insane.
That track went really well and a few days later we were doing the vocals for our record and Zack thought if he didn't ask Brian to sing on our record then he’d regret for the rest of his life. We gave him two or three songs to choose from and he picked Any Emotions. It’s just one of those things that you never believe will happen – having a guy like that who has been such a huge influence on us playing on your record.”
Aside from the dream collaborations and crazy touring plans, the conception of The Great Pretenders was a fairly stunted process. After writing eight songs in 2013 for a proposed EP, the band soon found themselves mired in record label issues and Michael was swamped in with Queens of the Stone Age album sessions. The only resolution was to start from scratch.
“It wasn’t really going our way and in that time, so we started writing a bunch of new material and those original eight songs are now the B-sides to the singles from our new album because we wrote so many new songs over the last year and a half.”
So how is it juggling both Queens of the Stone Age and Mini Mansions?
“It just means you have no life,” Michael puts bluntly.
“I just give everything to both bands and when I’m not doing Queens, I’m in the studio writing for Mansions. It’s tough because you make sacrifices to do what you really want to do and a lot of things suffer, like friendships and relationships. It’s been an interesting, but exciting, couple of years.”
As for the upcoming record, Shuman insists it still retains the Mini Mansions sound, but is far more engaging on a lyrical level.
He adds: “Where the first record was much more fantastical and arrangements were wilder, this is more focused and we’ve been able to open up and talk about real things.”
Themes like love, death and existentialism all feature heavily on The Great Pretenders – and are motifs which reflect the band’s current life, says Shuman.
As he talks about the new record, it’s obvious just how much he has invested in Mini Mansions. Quite simply, he loves his job. For a man who has headlined some of the world’s biggest festivals with Queens of the Stone Age, Shuman remains refreshingly modest and entirely engaging.
Juggling projects and a compromising schedule with apparent ease, you could say he is one of the hardest working musicians in the game. And with Rock City on the horizon, that work ethic shows no signs of abating.
