Mastria

The first few seconds of "Annunciation" were right on the nose. The guitar chords come in hard, with the drums right behind them. There's no ramp up or anything to prime you for. This song has an important message from the beginning. Mary Strand's voice is raw. The words ring true, even when some are not easy to sing. She doesn't want to put on a show. It feels intimate, as if it were something she really had to say. This band is very comfortable behind her. Ryan Smith's guitar doesn't come off as a showpiece, but keeps the song moving. Then the chorus enters and all things seem bigger. Mark Wade's bass keeps the song grounded. Peter Anderson's drums continue to drive the song onward without ever letting it slow. What I most love about the song is that it isn't sad throughout. There's a lot of grief in it, but there's also anger and there's something that needs to change. Knowing that the song was written in response to the shooting...

Here's that guitar note, that's the first thing you hear in “I Will Follow You” by CREEPS. It only stands there for a brief second. So now nothing else has come in yet, and that already sets the mood. Dark and a little heavy, but at the same time calm. The song is about to open up. Then it's Marek Sedláček's turn. It is deep and gritty, with plenty of character. He's not attempting to sound smooth or polished; I think that's what makes it work. He has a message that he believes in. The song is a modern rock, with some hard rock in the background. The guitars are definitely the ones that caught my ear. Filip Buršík is keeping it simple, though there's a lot of weight in the riffs. Bass from Jakub Malášek is there to support the song, providing it with a foundation. The drums of Michal Vašín fit in the same way. Everything fits well with the song. Everyone does what is required in the song. The lyrics, too, are simple and straightforward. They were written by ...

The opening bars hit me right away. My chest got tight, and it loosened up. It was as if they were in a room with people who had lost someone they loved, except they began playing. One More Angel by Eric Alexandrakis starts with a lot of weight, but quickly adds warmth as well. Eric covers the song, written by Raul Malo and Alan Miller, as a way to cope with the loss of Raul, who he had known for over 30 years. He sings and plays a number of instruments and did the majority of the recording himself. One can tell by the attention that was put into it. Nothing feels hurried. He allows the song to be sung at its own pace. The musicians who surround him really make it come together. EJ Ouellette is a violinist, violist, mandolinist and slide guitarist. In the background, the slide guitar can even be heard as a long sigh. The song has a familiar yet slightly dusty quality thanks to Michael Guerra's accordion. Theresa Bentley's harp is soft and light. There's plenty of room for e...

“How Will I Ever Know” is a song by George Styles that I was immediately drawn to. The song is like you're at the end of a hallway, one light is on, and there's a door you know you're not going to open. It was as if I felt that right off the bat. It starts off pretty simple. There's the guitar and then the bass underneath it and the drums are just kinda there. First of all, George doesn't sing very loud. He almost sounds like he’s just talking to himself. It's like he's saying it to you, it's his own voice in your ears. I waited and waited and waited for him to let it go but he took his time. That really makes the song harder to take. He seems to be going over the same question over and over, because he still hasn't got an answer. At 2 minutes and 23 seconds, everything gets turned upside down. The guitars get heavier, the drums come in harder and George's voice opens up fully. It's raw, a little messy but real. It doesn't sound like he i...

All the people in the street are gazing in the same direction at the same time. Nobody says a word. There's someone you know in front of them and your feet just remain in place. That's where herbie the rabbit got me from his song “Burn the Witch.” I felt a tightness in my chest before the first minute was even over. It begins with only the keys and Dan Marsh's vocals. He sounds like a man who's got something to get off his chest. The keys underneath stay simple. He delivers some words with real feeling, and I spent time sitting silently and listening. I waited for him to turn his head and look away from everything around him, but he never does. After that, the chorus begins to take over and the voices start to rise until it becomes like everyone in the room saying the same thing. This song fits that feeling really well. The synths fill in the gaps between his lines – there isn't really much room to breathe. It would be easy to sing along with, and that's what ma...

One window after another that are opening along a street and fresh air is coming in. I can still see that when I played Beautiful Day by Laurie Little. Before I knew why, my shoulders dropped. This song quickly opens something inside me, and I never see it coming. Loose and simple guitar riff, followed by the vocal. It seems to be very aware of what it is supposed to do. At the front there's a big, easygoing voice, it's right at home at Laurie's. There is no strain. It just rolls out. I really enjoy the way it all works together, although it's all made by one artist. The drums keep a steady rhythm and don't rush. Then there's the middle section, and the horns play alongside the guitars. The song seems to be larger; it sounds like it's in a room with lots of people who are happy to be there. From then on it seems like the speed increases. Or perhaps I'm leaning in. Anyhow, it is in motion. Everything is right where it needs to be. I don't overthink it...

The piano line is not a warming up line, it's a driving one from the first bar and the whole song is geared to move. That's "Power Up" by Andrei British, and the energy is already there before the first verse even lands. It captures the essence of South Florida nightlife, the night is on the move before things even start. The song's structure is one of a rock foundation with horn parts over it, and that is what propels "Power Up." Not only is there piano carrying the track, there's also horns in there that give the arrangement a bit of a kick, here and there, verse by verse, keeping it going. The motion is kept from becoming too much by Bec Hollcraft's vocal. Her delivery is soulful and high powered, and her R&B phrasing and rock swagger are the keys to having her voice cut through a dense, driving arrangement. The chorus doesn't need to explain itself, it just says the title over and over, and that is the point. The one-word hook helps k...

The piano entry is warm, but it's a little unexpected to begin the song at such an early stage. Slowly, the gated snare and synth pads join her, but they don't push. They wait. That's what makes ‘Echoes of Paradise' different from other songs constructed like this, that's the patience. The strings are behind her and her voice remains soft and intimate in the verse. Then the chorus asks, “Can anyone hear me? Can anyone see me?” Behind the two questions, the orchestra opens up. It's an unusual moment. The verses are careful and understated, the bigger parts are large because of that. As the song begins to become louder, I begin to notice how the space around the song seems to shift. She's playing alone for a moment and the acoustic guitar is close enough for you to hear the texture of her breathing between the lines. Then it expands outwards to something broad and almost film-like, more at home on a screen than a speaker. However, it does not sound like it...

A guitar plays single notes at a slow and measured pace as if to test the depth before stepping in. “The opening of ‘Mariana Trench’ is like that – and it doesn’t hurry up from there. Paul Garside's vocals have a placid quality that draws you in initially: one that's resigned to the fact that he will eventually go under. The key is low, the song is dark, and everything is heavy in the best way, but nothing in the worst way. The underlying beat is strong, steady, patient and calm. The second verse makes it clear that this song isn't asking for sympathy. It is a place that Garside is familiar with, but ordinary, curious images that don't explain themselves and don't need to. What interests me is that the chorus doesn't go so loud that it makes a point. Paul's attitude is very direct and straightforward – almost like a fact – and that's what makes it land. He does not want attention from you. He's just saying what's up and that's more convincing...

The synth line in THROES NYC's new EP, The Wires Out, doesn't just appear out of nowhere, but gradually makes its way into the track. The same mood carries into the darker of the two songs, “Something Chemical.” A bass that circles before the chorus, along with a sparse piano, sits under Courtney Leo's voice. Courtney's delivery remains low and somewhat distant, as if she is telling herself something that she knows may not be right for her. The bass has a funky feel and keeps moving underneath her, giving the song a tight and slightly off balance feeling. It makes you feel as if you're in a situation that keeps repeating itself. “Always, Baby” is quite a different story. It starts with just piano and voice, a much softer and more open sound than “Something Chemical.” Then the buzzing synths appear, followed by the guitars, and the song gradually becomes heavier and fuller. At the end, it's no longer the same tone as at the beginning, but rather more rugged and r...

A sustained note on electric piano – quiet, slow, before anything else comes in. Noah James Mass begins “I Am the One” with a breath of fresh air. For a bit, just keys and a light beat under Mass' vocals, but when the guitar finally leans in, it truly changes the atmosphere. His guitar is offset, with a rough edge that is befitting of the blues undertow throughout. I like this build for being patient. When bass comes in, the background vocals fill in, and the drums move from loose to locked. Nothing rushes. Every new part is earned and not added for effect. The words dance around a reiterated line, one that continually points at someone else, an outward-pointing ache. Then near the end it comes back to the same phrase, but it sounds different when you're aware of the change. It's a minor adjustment in the name of the song, but it's a huge shift in the meaning. Noah sings as if not yet finished, not yet thought out. He is low to the mic in quieter moments, but once the m...

Noah James Mass' debut single Misery Winter is quiet for a tale that is pressing so much, but that's what makes you listen first. The guitars are clean and bright, but there's something deeper underneath them. That's the secret behind the song. Even though the words are about going round and round the block, wanting to leave and never getting there, Mass sings smoothly and steadily. His voice stays clear and calm. It just continues on, and the hurt feels even more intense when it is silent and calm. The drums don't let up either. From the beginning, they have a steady tempo, and that tempo remains firm even though the lyrics get darker. I kept expecting the song to get slower and sadder, but it never does. It simply continues to walk, like the beat is the one thing that keeps him moving. It's also a little raw in the recording, not too clean and shiny. The instruments have a natural room character, with an analogue feel. That is the choice that adds authenticity...

The voice that comes in is very low, more like a conversation than a song, and you are instantly drawn to it. From the beginning, “Inside Out” does just that. No big opening or anything dramatic. It just gradually draws you in and captures your interest before you realize what is going on. It does not appear as though Sean MacLeod is trying to get your attention. He already has it. The music keeps playing without being too loud and the drums provide a steady pulse to the song. It's more of a person sharing their thoughts and you're there to listen. There isn't really a distinct message to the lyrics. They involve us in who we are, in reality, in showing what we want people to see. These are large concepts, but the song doesn't make them seem too grand or complicated. MacLeod will make you think about your life, without telling you how to feel. I was struck by the waiting in the song. It does not hurry anywhere or rush through its time. When it's needed he's ther...

A guitar line slowly comes in, there is no rush. That's how you feel from the moment you step onto the premises of Traces of the World. It's soothing, like the warmth of a room on a sunny day. The music creates a relaxed mood. Gianfranco GFN isn't going for high-octane entertainment or quick moves. Rather, it appears the instruments are talking to each other. The guitar and keys play against each other with the percussion playing a loose swaying beat below. The playing is spontaneous and natural, not over-rehearsed. The song is like a good trip, taking a break here, taking a break there. Parts increase and then decrease. A definite sense of passing places and people being met and left behind. The most noticeable aspect is the harmony of the styles. Jazz elements, soulful warmth and funky bounce. They are all in place but not overpowering the song. It still has plenty of life left and no one else is vying for attention. The second half is a tighter groove with increased ener...

That feeling on the neck, that pocket where everything locks in. You can't think of anything else. All you hear is the music, and it draws you in. Richard Green built "Holey Shoes" around a groove that wouldn't let go. All three instruments are breathing together, the guitar, bass and drums. It's natural and not something that had to be practiced until it was flawless. Some kind of looseness here, like Richard trusted in the moment more than he trusted the plan. The title "Holey Shoes" conveys a deeper meaning than initially understood. It's not really about the shoes. It is a reference to something more difficult, to people who go unnoticed and to difficulties that many of us pass by. I think that part was more memorable than I expected and added more meaning to the song. I like what the song doesn't do, it does not preach. It just leaves you with the idea and you feel the idea, you don't have to explain everything. This is something that...

Though all around appears to be against them, a small flame continues to burn in a dark corner. It doesn't need to be noticed, nor does it need to be seen. This is the image at the center of “Invisible Light” by AMARAH, and it remains present throughout the song. Her voice is quiet and calm, and she doesn't demand anything from you. She just shares what she is carrying, and you choose what it means to you. I was fascinated by the idea of calm confidence. From the get-go, it did something to me, before I knew what. The song is about releasing old patterns and how we self-protect without being aware of it. It got me thinking about how I do things, the little things I've developed to make me feel safe, and how some of them can feel tiring when you finally start to see them for what they are. There is a repeated idea about carrying something that can't be seen. I liked the fact that it doesn't really explain it. It's just like a person reminding themselves of someth...

The lights on the street are yellowish and red, they're together like it's one beam instead of two. “Sea of Light” is the sound that Naoko Hiranuma weaves into the song before you even know what it's about. She is upfront, with a close, accessible voice, and she's not trying to impress you. It just tells the story straight, and somehow makes it hit harder than if she'd made too much of it. The song is about two people who are traveling from a quiet space into an urban area at night, and as the journey unfolds, the characters' memories begin to merge. I really enjoyed that the song doesn't impose sadness. It allows the image to be clear and lets one trust their feeling. There is a part about the ocean, waiting for the right time to catch a wave, and patience and timing are something that can be heard throughout the whole song. It's not about surfing, of course. It's waiting for something good to come, and it's not always coming. The song then chan...

Just because nothing has changed around a room, it suddenly seems bigger than it is and quieter as well. I feel that under Allan Jamisen's "Milk & Honey" from the opening bars, before the song fully begins. This song creates that feeling in an easy way without trying too hard. The song starts softly, with the guitar and gentle electronic elements blending in the background. That slow start works well, and it takes a while for the voice to come in. There is no hurry or pressure. The music seems to be inviting you in, rather than asking for your attention. When the voices come in together, the thing that stands out is how comforting they feel. It is not a performance meant to impress you. The lyrics are about returning to a place that you know and finding that it is not quite what you remembered. I believe many people have experienced some version of this, but have not always put their feelings into words. Listening to the song about that feeling, I could see that feeli...

Suddenly everyone is silent and someone says the thing everyone didn't want to say. That feeling is at the heart of Cheryl Craigie’s version of "What's Going On," the song Marvin Gaye first shared with the world in the seventies. It begins with a question that is still familiar today. Her voice is not loud or overpowering the song or trying to make a statement. It seems natural and relaxed, as if she's talking to someone and not performing for them. That honesty is what makes you click in before you really absorb the meaning of the words. It's the fact that she creates it all on her own. The sound of her voice and the music around her are all from one person. That makes the song feel more intimate, like someone's softly exploring their thoughts rather than being carefully built in a studio. It's a hard decision to make to record a song as popular as this one. Marvin Gaye's original has a lot of meaning for many already, and many people know what it...

The "boo hoo" part is a surprise the first time you hear it. It should sound like a joke, kind of, but it isn't. That left me sitting with a contradiction for a while after the song was over. “That There Is Our Problem” by Paul Garside is not what I'd been expecting when I picked the song. I'd imagined it to be about a couple that was breaking up in some normal way. It instead becomes something different, a man who is in competition with God for someone's love, and it somehow works. There's a lot of pounding of the guitar here, but it's not rushed and instead gives each note time before the next one appears. The pacing doesn't seem rushed at all. It only plays out the way a person speaks when they are finally being true to themselves about something painful. The memory that remains with me is the change in the singing halfway through. It sounds more like frustration, especially in the beginning, as if someone is simply reacting in the moment. Then ...