Fucted up

This is horrific. Imagine a track like this was released in Ireland by a girl group…

Road Trip, Anyone?

More and more details on Bjork and Sigur Ros’s big free Icelandic festival emerge. It’s in a park! A large park! It looks set to be Iceland’s biggest free concert ever. I’d like for us all to go, but seeing as it was inspired by this book right here and focuses on the preserving the Icelandic environment, I don’t know how kindly they’d view excessive plane usage. In an interview on her website she says:

“Neither me or Sigur Rós look at ourselves as experts on nature, or as politicians, but we do travel a lot and we believe we know a lot about what image Iceland has abroad, and that we are far behind when it comes to being” Says Björk when asked how the concert came to be. “I spent for example 2 months in South-America and there you saw the poor doing recycling. We can’t be 30 years behind, we need to work together on this and preferably we should be leading the way.”

“Too often battles being fought for nature turn into something negative and into mudslinging. We will not go that way, we are not saying that this and that is forbidden, we are rather asking “what about all these other possibilites?”. The 21st century is not going to be another oil century but rather a century where we need to recycle, think green and design both power plants and our surroundings in harmony with nature.”

You could always travel with your ears, I suppose.

Ewan Pearson Interview

Ewan Pearson, DJ, remixer & producer par excellence, plays the final Shock of the Summer in Dublin’s Kennedy’s on June 27th. In advance of what will no doubt be a very special night, he answered some questions for the good folks at Analogue.

For the uninitiated, how would you describe your sound?

That’s a job for PR people, journalists and bloggers and other pundits. I’m the last person you should ask.

Your methods are much more cerebral than many might expect of an international DJ. How do you reconcile your intellectual approach with the mindless hedonism of the dancefloor?

I don’t think I’m more cerebral. I’m interested in talking around some of these things we do, and wonder about them, sometimes privately and sometimes publicly. That’s not so weird is it? And hedonism and intellect aren’t mutually exclusive. They’re both vital parts of life. The head is just another part of the body after all.

How do you feel living in Berlin has changed your work?

I don’t think it’s affected my work in terms of what I make, apart from maybe that I’m generally happier all round and that might feed into what I do, I guess.

I was quite taken with your blog post entitled “The Supreme Overlord of Dance Decrees,” where you encourage producers to “throw away everything you think is not genuinely going to add something to the world.” Is this a viable option for everyone?

Well, that piece was half a goad and half a joke as manifestos should be. I do think we should probably all try and make fewer things and make them better. Al [Usher] and I are putting out one Partial Arts single a year at the moment and trying to make it a damn good one each time.

You are quite vocal in your condemnation for illegal downloading. Can you see a viable solution to the problem, or are the days of small artists and labels getting by well and truly past?

I don’t think there is a solution. The cat is out of the bag and musicians are going to have to rely on playing live, or working in cafes or living off trustfunds or something. But I think that we shouldn’t ever stop pointing out to people that what they are doing is actually stealing other people’s hard work, and that it’s wrong. What’s more that if they’re independent music fans they’re hurting the thing that they purport to love by sharing it. In the end to me it’s about whether you’re always taking, or whether you’re putting something back. In that sense we need to have a more folk model, where fans feel like they’re contributing to the scene they love by supporting the people that help make it.

With blogs giving out free tracks every other day, it’s almost impossible for DJs to constantly stay ahead of the clubbing public. How do you bypass this challenge?

It’s about how you put it together; it’s not just about having this or that track. And it’s about the experience of hearing it in a club, with all the other people and the sound system, not just coming out of your laptop speakers.

With a global recession looming, where do you see the future of dance music, both in terms of record buying public, and clubbing?

People never stop wanting to go out and lose themselves; in fact during recession they probably want to do it more and more.

In such a climate one might imagine that DJs might cut back on their schedules, but it appears that the superstar DJs of this world are still booked for nearly every night over the summer months. Is this a question of bringing their music to as many people as possible, or getting as much as they can out of the scene before the bubble bursts?

Erm, that’s kind of a cynical question isn’t it? I can’t answer for everyone; I can only say that most of the people I know play because they are genuinely passionate and love what they do and want to do it as much as possible. So to imply that if people play a lot they’re only motivated by money is kind of insulting isn’t it? They’re entitled to make a living from it too aren’t they? Or can you only be pure of heart if you do it for free? Personally, I try not to be away playing all the time as I want to have some normal life too. I know people that play too much and damage their personal lives and their health in the process.

What DJs and producers inspire you?

Ivan Smagghe, Andrew Weatherall, Joakim, Matt Edwards [Radioslave], Carl Craig.

You had two significant releases last year; a collection of your remixes and a Fabric mix CD. How did you decide which remixes to include on Piece Work?

I just tried to whittle down 6 years of mixes into most of my favourites, and ones that would work together on a CD. I could have happily made it a triple CD though.

What is your approach when you’re given a track to remix?

Just to think really carefully about what the music and the artist would benefit from; to try and be sympathetic to what’s there. Not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I’m quite picky with what I choose to do, and if I know I can’t add something useful to it then I always say no.

You blogged in detail about each track on the Fabric mix. Were there any constraints imposed by the label?

Constraints on my selection or constraints on my writing? Neither. Fabric were great to work with and cleared everything I wanted to put on there. The rest was just a question of making 15 or 16 tracks work well together.

The mix closes with a memorable juxtaposition of tracks, as Aril Brikha’s Berghain sits alongside Carl Craig’s reworking of Beanfield’s Tides. Was this a question of just playing the two records together, or did it require more delicate studio work?

I’m absolutely honest and have always been clear that I put the mix together using a computer. But I discovered the mixes from DJing in clubs in front of people – that combination I found at a gig in Cookies in Berlin a couple of months before doing the mix. They are in the same key at the same tempo so you can try it live yourself. It’s great when you discover records that go well together like that – you can see me sometimes scribbling in a notebook at a gig – that means I’ve just found two things that work really well in key together and I want to make a note of them.

How much of your own production do you incorporate into your sets?

I’m usually quite shy of playing my own stuff until I’ve heard someone else do so.

You refer to yourself as a librarian trapped in a DJ’s body. Is there any part of you that regrets leaving the academic world behind?

Regret is too strong a word. I definitely made the right choice I think. But I miss the reading and the writing. That’s why I still do the blog and write the column for Groove and so forth.

Even now, it can be difficult for people to take seriously the idea of an academic study of clubbing and its associated proclivities. How did people respond to your publication Discographies: Dance Music, Culture, and the Politics of Sound?

People have been really positive; the book sold out its print run and has been translated into two foreign language editions – Korean and Spanish. I was a bit scared when I wrote it, but that’s because there is an unfortunate tendency in the UK for people to distrust or diss anyone that dares to take popular culture seriously. That kind of anti-intellectualism doesn’t exist on the continent at all. And things have only got worse since we wrote it; music journalism is in quite an awful state now. When I started reading the NME as a kid it had lots of lots of passionate, intelligent critical writing about music in it. Look at it now. A comic.

What, if anything, do you have planned for your set at Shock in Dublin?

I never plan; but the last gig I played for them was ace. Loved the crowd and I can’t wait to come back.

Future Days Festival: Vicar Street Saturday June 14th

Dan the Man: Pic by Loreana Rushe

As part of last weekend’s Future Days festival, Vicar Street turned into a hip musical playground by hosting a line-up of acts that was so ‘indie’ I’m surprised people weren’t being turned away at the door for not wearing cardigans or hair-slides. Here is a short digest of what went down in the big venue on Saturday night.

High Places
It’s 8.45pm and Vicar Street is worryingly empty. The lights are up before High Places (as they will be between all the acts tonight), and the increased illumination accentuates the cavernous emptiness of the place. We’re in tumbleweed territory before boy/girl Brooklyn duo High Places emerge. However, as soon as they start, the lights drop sharply and people start reverse-melting out of the shadows like vampires. Soon enough, there is a moderate and respectable crowd up front. I know nothing of High Places so I don’t feel all that equipped to comment in detail on their live show. All I can say is it sounds extremely influenced by Animal Collective, and on my first impression, in a derivative and flimsy way. There are sampled tribal-type beats, some live drumming, wigged out sound effects and the girl sings in an insipid, disengaged manner. Post Animal Collective bands are multiplying like bunnies at the moment. But while superficially adapting that band’s current sound might be achievable for groups like High Places, getting near the blistering creative genius behind it is the real challenge. Someone told me their EP is well wort a listen though. So I could be wrong.

White Williams
White Williams are another band I could write what I know about on a postage stamp. According to Wikipedia, this is how their record label describes their new album: “unapologetic pop that flirts with the vacuous nostalgia of the American dream; engaging ambiguous and schizophrenic instruments with impressionistic lyrics, driven by a casually heterosexual backbeat.” Ahem, a casually heterosexual backbeat? The vacuous nostalgia of the American dream? Who writes this shit? As punishment for that sentence I refuse to say anything more about their show apart from this…the lead singer does a freakishly studied Avey Tare (singer from Animal Collective) impression; same hat, same shirt, same dance, same strangled vocal yelps. Tonight Matthew I am going to be someone incredibly more talented than me.

Deerhunter
Just as I’m starting to worry that the world is insidiously being taken over by Animal Collective underlings, Deerhunter emerge to a respectably full venue. They look tired. Bassist Josh Fauver has huge bags under his eyes and singer Bradford is cranky, moaning more than once about the house lights. This could be a real disaster for a band renowned for their erratic live performances. If Deerhunter are in shitty form, they tend to play a shitty gig. It’s as simple as that. They are transparent that way. Somehow, things work out well enough. They don’t exactly bring the house down, but the clutch of new songs from Microcastle sound more alive, more muscular, and dare I say it, more Cryptograms-esque than they did at the last show in Whelans. It’s as if they recorded an album of poppy material because they were bored of drone rock, then took it on the road, realised they were bored of pop and started droning out again. The crowd are familiar with much of the new album (it was leaked a shocking five months ahead of its release date). What I hear tonight is, at the odd intense moment, like the new album being covered by Suicide, Spaceman 3 and Mogwai all at once. A short set is polished off with a ferocious reading of ‘Heatherwood’, which was sadly missed last time around. Man, they look tired though.

Dan Deacon
He does his usual thing, does our Dan, ‘cept on a much bigger scale. For those not familiar with a Dan Deacon show, it’s basically a completely interactive experience. It veers from ridiculously sweaty communal freak-outs in front of a strobey green skull as a crouching Dan messes with pedals and samplers, to his playful hi-jinks that involve, well, everyone. Tonight, these include a massive game of tag that turns the entire crowd into a vortex of sweaty bodies racing around Mr Deacon. He merrily conducts this madness in a pair of luminous pink shorts and a Jar Jar Binks t-shirt. It’s hard to describe these shows without making them sound lame and gimmicky. Rest assured, they are not. All the kerr-azy games hang together on the frame of Deacon’s music which is adventurous, forward-looking and complex. It’s also completely banging. By the end of an epic Wham City (his signature tune) thousands of mad hands are reaching toward a little light bulb that Deacon is holding up as the techno apocalypse crashes all around. Pink Floyd may have lasers and 20 foot high inflatable pigs, but that skull and that little light-bulb are the coolest fucking special effects I’ve seen at a gig. Small is beautiful. I heard this is the last we’ve seen of this incarnation of Deacon. I wonder what his next trick will be?

Richie Lynott? Pic by Loreana Rushe

Jape
Richie Egan must feel the pressure following up Deacon after the hardcore shagging he gave the crowd. It must feel like getting into bed with a spent lover after they’ve done ten rounds with Angelina Jolie/Brad Pitt. He even humbly admits toward the end of the gig that he was shitting it. He needn’t have worried. After warming the post-coital crowd up with a few cuts from his solid new record Ritual, things really take off with ‘floating’ and from then on in its a beat-heavy ride to a barn-storming finish with that monster of a track, ‘I was a man’ which plays like ‘floating”s big brother on ecstasy. The home crowd lap it up. Richie emerges one last time for an encore of newly minted anthem ‘Phil Lynott’ that morphs into a techno kiss-off as a very much alive-and-kicking bass player from Crumlin crowd-surfs through the throngs. Indeed, Jape were so good that midway though their set another Analogue journalist ended up punching himself in the face during a moment of mad self-harming excitement. Rock’n'Roll!

Noisy Reading

Just finished reading two books from the lesser trodden ends of the musical spectrum which are definitely worth a look:

‘Noise/Music – A History’ by UCC’s Paul Hegarty details the dissonant journey music has made from John Cage and Pauline Oliveros (who will be performing at the Quiet Festival in Cork at the end of this month) to the Boredoms and Autechre. Included also is the mandatory chapter dedicated to ‘the paragon of noise’, Merzbow. Hegarty does his best to pack in as much as possible and chapters on free jazz are correlated to subsequent chapters on industrial and punk music making for a varied narrative on the subject of noise music.

The second book which has provoked an obsessive reaction to the music dealt within it is ‘Japrocksampler’. Written by Julian Cope (who also brought us ‘Krautrocksampler’) it is a detailed account of the mayhem incited by the arrival of Western music and the effect its collision with 1960’s Japan had, from it’s avant-garde foundations to its culmination into a psychedelic mutiny of the ‘long-haired teenage futens’. Cope, while providing a historical background to Japan’s musical landscape also goes into detail on the central bands that paved the lysergic pathway for the rest to follow, the controversial ‘Les Rallizes Denudes’, ‘Speed, Glue and Shinki’ and the naked bikers gracing the books cover, ‘Flower Travellin’ Band’ seen performing in the clip below.
Well worth a look.

[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDBdMnkcx0E]

Foreplay

This weekend past was something of the foreplay to next weekend’s orgiastic meltdown of Dublin’s gig overload. With Deerhunter, Dan Deacon, Fleet Foxes, Beach House, White Williams, Jape, High Places and some lad who ripped off that Jack L song “Hallelujah” all vying for attention on Saturday alone. Last weekend was a gentle stroke on the leg and coy look in comparison to this forthcoming veritable laneway ride. But as any glossy mag will tell you, sometimes the build-up’s the best part.

Providing the aforementioned coy looks on Friday evening in the soon-to-be-a-pile-of-cement Andrew’s Lane were five Swedish ladies that, rather frighteningly, are actually younger than me. Those Dancing Days is a particularly suitable band name for the Scandavian troupe, as they ply their trade in the nostalgia-steeped shiny-happy-people songs that one can dance like a camp badger to. And indeed a frenzy of camp-badger-dancing was on show as the girls tore through their simplistic, though instantly memorable catalogue of killer choruses and melancholy lyrics. You’ve seen this all before, and certainly prominently from Sweden (see Shout Out Louds and PBJ for reference points), though possibly never pulled off with such charming exuberance as guitarist Cissi Edraimsson (who receives an extra cheer upon leaving the stage) and keyboardist Mimmi Evrell seep. The band are visibly thrilled with each song they complete, as if the whole show might fall apart any second. Given the rough edges shown live that aren’t on show in their super-smooth single releases to date perhaps they’re right to be so worried. The band ooze potential, and will no doubt enjoy swooning previews with words such as “twee”, “uplifting” and “please let me elope with you” upon their second Irish visit (whereupon they may realize they’re not in Scotland. Bless.)

Saturday night is more serious business. Given that the Notwist are commonly referred to as the “German Radiohead”, their Button Factory gig coinciding with their Oxford counterparts is somewhat problematic calendar-wise. Nevertheless, the venue was nigh-on filled out with Neon Golden-devotees. The Radiohead comparison, it must be said, isn’t a lazily-made one. The Notwist’s balance of intelligent beats and attention to texture, combined with their tendency to rip three shreds of shite out of their guitar at the most spontaneous moments is their calling-card. The gulf between older, more guitar driven noise attacks sit somewhat awkwardly with newer, IDM/ambient tracks is stark at times, though within songs the melding of synth, sampler, guitar, drums and vocals fold together as organically as imaginable. Their set is surprisingly bare of tracks from latest album “The Devil You + Me”, though Boneless is a highlight. The band mined Neon Golden dry, and also dug up some gems from earlier albums. These were the ones that lasted two minutes and left one with a mild headache when finished. A fluid and funky version of Pilot saw the band at their darkly glorious best in a somewhat toploaded set that meant interest may well have dropped off for the non-ardent fans of the band towards the end. There was something detached and somewhat personality-free about the band, communicating as little as possible (although electronics man Console’s use of a Nintendo Wii remote to trigger his pedals and samplers clearly makes him too cool to have to talk to anybody, ever.)

Impersonality is not an accusation that can be levied at Evangelicals, who brought their fucked up psychadelia to an almost-empty Whelans on Sunday night. With a singer that could well be Rich Hall‘s acutely camp twin brother, a guitarist with a sparkly cape and seriously intriguing altered trousers, a bassist who is Johnny Borrell (is), a drummer who might just well be their dad and some well-placed soft porn on their equipment, the Oklahoma-based band wear their singularity on their sleeve. I found their recent album, The Evening Descends, esoteric at first, enthralling after a second listen, and an entertaining, though not always attractive experience thereafter. Their live show was much the same, minus the “first listen” part. Clearly not phased by the fact the crowd was tiny, or that their equipment was banjaxed (“D strings are for pussies!” quoth frontman Josh Jones) bounced through their spasmodic, disorientating and often downright delirious songs with all the excitement of a caffeine-fuelled guinea pig. The melody that sometimes has to be searched for on record came through more clearly live, and the raw power even more potent. Proof as if we needed any, that oddballs are always the most entertaining

One final thought from a certain Tripod gig on Monday night: How in the name of Guus Hiddink does Stephen Malkmus know who the fuck Ruud Van Nistelrooy is?

Photos courtesy of the lovely Cait Fahey, Turgidson and Loreana Rushe respectively.

The Saga Of Vampire Weekend

If there is a better case study for the state of music in the Web 2.0 world, I have yet to see it. Vampire Weekend are a band who were hyped so much online that their backlash started before they put anything out. People had started to theorise the blogosphere’s reaction to the real world catching on to them before it happened. The Pitchfork-centred axis is slowly becoming self-aware. It’s a vaguely scary thing.

Beforehand, the NME could put a band on the cover, pick the name for the new genre out of a hat, ride it out until it stopped being exciting to anyone, and then bury it. So long as the NME were behind it, there were people behind it. Vampire Weekend backlash would surely have taken between three and six months longer if they’d come out of those hallowed pages first.

The difference is this: the right to reply. Blogs have comment features, generally. And a lot of people read the big ones, like Stereogum (or Analogue, of course). So after fifty people say “Wow, that new track sounds cool! I’d been waiting until it was acceptable to admit to liking Paul Simon!”, there’s going to be one guy who was at Columbia with them, and didn’t like the circle they were in or something. So he says they’re being derivative and colonialist.

That becomes an issue, when it wasn’t one. Because backlash is inevitable for any popular band, that’s something else it can latch on to. And things like that keep popping up. Comment sections start to fill with people saying “Vampire Weekend sucks”. Then blogs start to fill up with it too.

And then they release their album, and they launch into the real world as if the whole online power-shifting never happened. But the attainture is still there.

Even musicians weigh in. Bradford Cox’s faith in indie rock in general was rocked:

Cox: I’ve pretty much given up on indie rock. I hate indie rock. I never listen to it anymore. Because indie rock to me is safe. Like college rock in the 80s. It has a lot to do with like economic oppression. It has a lot to do with rich kids. When I think of indie rock recently I think of sort of bands whose names I won’t mention appropriating African music.

On Merry Swankster, Nick Thorburn from Islands bemoaned the insincerity of it all:

You know we didn’t write Graceland, we were just influenced by it. People who grew up around that time were. The difference between us and Vampire Weekend is that we’re not parroting the genre, going in and mining the territory that Paul Simon was in such a boring and uncreative way and just basically ripping him off. We were doing it in a way that wasn’t reducing it to … parody really. I mean when Paul Simon was doing it it was a discovery for him and we were trying to just get in sync with that same sense of musical exploration. I feel like with a band like Vampire Weekend is just seems so calculated, going through the same narrative styles and trying really hard to imitate. And it just sounds like an imitation. I don’t even liken what we did to what they’re doing. We had the same touchstone which was Graceland, which is a great starting point. That’s what Paul Simon’s great thing was is that he opened alot of people up to South African music and Brazil and all over and he was creative about it and you have to be creative in the way that you interpret and explore music. And I don’t think that band is a very creative band I guess.

Stephen Malkmus weighed in too (prompted by me admittedly – de gustibus non est disputandum), in an interview coming in the next print issue of Analogue. He reckoned people were just mad because they were rich kids who didn’t have to pay their dues.

He also said it was essentially just a pop record. Which it is. It’s okay to like Vampire Weekend without a copy of Das Capital in hand, or a collection of African pop in your CD rack. It’s also alright to hate them, for whatever reason you can come up with. They’ll probably be forgotten in a year or so anyway. Until then, the internet is going to keep examining itself through their trajectory. And it’s interesting stuff.

Docklands Festival

Analog Concerts (not us) are hosting a three day festival from Friday 17th July to Sunday 20th in Dublin’s revamped docklands. It’s going to be a two stage affair with the Main Stage in the new technicolour Gand Canal Square (above) and other concerts in the Analog Studio at the Conservatory in the chq Building. The highlight has to be the triple bill Saturday show with Liars, Efterklang and Tortoise all playing the Main Stage. However Friday’s major show Hal Willner’s Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs and Chanteys is bound to be an experience.

Other acts confirmed for the weekend include Jóhann Jóhannsson, Chequerboard, The Sleeping Years, Dollboy, Songdog, Silje Nes, Madam, Taraf De Haidouks, Vinicius Cantuária, Iain Sinclair with Susan Stenger, Jonathan Coe & The High Lamas and a Ninepoint Records showcase featuring Thread Pulls, Mit Nye Band and Petit Mal.

A limited number of weekend passes for the Main Stage are available at €60. However the Jóhann Jóhannsson and Chequerboard show at the Conservetory has already sold out. The Liars, Efterklang and Tortoise show is priced at €30, bargain!

Daedelus: Love To Make Music To

Daedelus, a Los Angeles producer lauded for his uniquely genre sampled releases, which owe a lot to his musically spoilt background in jazz and electronic music not to mention his aptitude for an array of instruments; has released this similarly dappled album.

A feature of his music which has thankfully been sustained in this release is his signature indulgence in musical anachronisms amid electronic backdrops. Throwbacks to Glenn Miller big band era and samples of ragtime piano relate his keenness for distinctively era specific samples and particularly for those belonging to the 30’s and 40’s. The frenetic whiplash electronic interruption in ‘Drummery Jam’ for example is fed to us through an oneiric depression era chorus in its introduction.

Daedelus is at his best cutting up samples of unusual sounds and blending them into chaotic collages rather than a concentration of a single style. Unfortunately this is made all too clear on tracks such as ‘Hrs:Mins:Sec’ and ‘Bass In It’ which due to their sparse use of this skill cause him to shoot wide of the left-field hip-hop that he successfully produces on the track ‘Touchstone’.

But these weaker moments only serve to emboss the albums highpoints, tracks such as ‘If We Should’ where doppler-esque glissando is cut short by synths sighing beneath Laura Darlington’s ambient vocals. Also the catchy ‘Make It So’ and the albums opener ‘Fair Weather Friends’ both feature the same endearingly optimistic beat.
It’s Daedelus’ willingness to introduce soundscapes paved with everything from samba drumbeats to electronic bleeps and cut-ups of noise turned music that redeem this album from the more forgettable tracks that unfortunately score through the continuity of its better tracks…

[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRJ2YvRv3N4]

Vetiver: Crawdaddy June 8th

After a weekend of bombast and electro-shock, Vetiver provided the perfect Sunday night soother.

The vaguely hippieish filled out Crawdaddy last night, as these Devendra Banhart collaborators took to the stage to promote their latest album Thing of the Past. It’s a collection of covers, remoulded in Vetiver’s americana heavy, country blues style and includes tracks as diverse as Hawkwind’s ‘Hurry On Sundown’ and Loudon Wainwright III’s ‘The Swimming Song’. However despite crowd requests, which prompted groans from the band, the rollicking Hawkind track wasn’t played. Instead Vetiver took it easy.

Their sound is so mellow and soft that as soon as those fingers start plucking you can just imagine you’re sitting on a porch, beer in hand, watching the sunset, while in the background the cicadas creak and the wireless gurlges in the kitchen. Their music lulls you with a gentle sway. It’s not the most amazing sound ever, nor the most exciting, however it could claim to be the easiest to listen to. Yet this overriding sense of peace that descends upon the gig dosen’t overwhelm the music itself. ‘Been So Long’ and ‘Luna Sea’ stand out as prime examples of well crafted songs that although they fit into the mood of the concert also entirely transcend it. Their quality allows them to stand alone, isolated from the set. It is this that makes Vetiver worth listening to.

Vetiver’s Thing of the Past is out now

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