ALBUM REVIEWS
Before they were widely tipped as one of London’s most exciting new post-punk bands, Bar Italia spent years patiently grafting. The trio, consisting of Nina Cristante, Jezmi Tarik Fehmi and Sam Fenton, put out multiple releases via Dean Blunt’s avant-garde World Music label, including their debut LP ‘Quarrel’ and follow-up EP ‘Angelica Pilled’ in 2020. Second album ‘Bedhead’ swiftly followed in early 2021, before they then shared three standalone singles (‘Banks’, ‘Miracle Crush’ and ‘Polly Armour’) in 2022.
This prolific streak steadily raised the current fanfare that surrounds their percussive yet pensive post-punk, eventually leading to a string of sold-out gigs, worldwide tours and a deal with Matador Records (home to the likes of Pavement, Julien Baker and Snail Mail). It’s an impressive feat, especially when you consider the layers of mystique Bar Italia have intentionally conjured during their rise: from issuing dim and grainy publicity photos to their Microsoft Paint-aided show flyers, they’ve also actively avoided giving any interviews during their emergence.
Despite this reticence, the London trio now seem to have their sights set on making their reintroduction with ‘Tracey Denim’. Recorded and produced by the band themselves with mixing from Marta Salogni (Björk, Black Midi, M.I.A.), their third album should be enough to shift to one side those hasty (albeit somewhat justified) comparisons to The Cure and Joy Division, ensuring that Bar Italia make a lasting impression that’s all of their own making.
On ‘Punkt’, Bar Italia take their listeners on an imaginative jaunt soundtracked by erratic guitars; its spoken word lyrics culminating with Cristante’s infectious repetitive proclamation “I don’t owe you an explanation / I just want to lose control”. The rapid ‘Friends’ particularly highlights the band’s production prowess by fusing together elements of warped and pulsating punk with a melodic pop delivery, while ‘Maddington’ closes the album with lush layering and gentle singing that lures the listener in while creating a wall of sound all around. It works as a perfect bookend for the collection, shining a bright light on the trio’s experimental edge.
The 15 impressively arranged tracks on ‘Tracey Denim’ will only bolster Bar Italia’s discography to date, ushering them, whether they like it or not, even further into the spotlight.
ALBUM REVIEWS
Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
