Beatrix – Tie Your Shoes
Andrei Tarkovsky believed that the greatest predictor for success was a young person’s ability to spend time on their own. This, of course, flies in the face of what schools and get-rich books teach us. Surely, success is just another word for strategic alliances. The people who are on their own lost out on a myriad of opportunities to meet and influence and people, yeah?
Modern folks do spend time by themselves. It’s just that, usually, this is not a voluntary decision. Besides, loneliness in an era of internet-connected mobile devices is relative. A much better way to say it is that people do not spend enough time along, by their own accord, drenched in their own dreams. People don’t give themselves the opportunity to get bored.
Beatrix’s “Tie Your Shoes” is a wonderful, modern, folk-influenced sound. It’s not great only because the singer possesses a moving voice or because the production is sparse and sweet. It’s great, especially because it sounds like music that comes out of a world of self-imposed loneliness, like observations made by someone strategically creating their schedule so that they won’t be bothered by others. There are few musical artists nowadays who have these kinds of desires.
Flora Hibberd – Auto Icon
Most pop music sounds as if it was made by people who all get invited to the same parties. You can just imagine that these events are frequent, that those invited talk about all the friends that they have in common and that even gossip becomes stale after a while. You also get the feeling that they take this information with them when they write, record and produce their songs.
Pop music sounds as if it is made by people with highly active social lives who find little time to worry about their music until the moment when it needs to get done. Alternative music, in whatever form you should find it, for the most part, sounds like people who don’t accept invites to too many parties. It sounds like music made by people who voluntarily lock themselves inside of rooms, writing poetry and making it fit music until they become a bit cookie, a bit jittery and are no longer the sort of folks who would get invited to the pop stars’ parties.
Flora Hibberd’s “Auto Icon” sounds like the music made by a person determined to gift their isolation through song. This artsy, subtle, tender indie-folk sound is a cover for Hibberd’s very interesting poetry, a mix of off-the-wall observations on life and cryptic humour. Not everything is revealed on the first listen by the author’s request, but the mood that the music creates sure makes up for any difficulties in communicating. It’s Hibberd’s way of sending her own invitations.
