The Friday Dispatch: True Righteousness in Cinemas, Broke Music Critics, Jana Hunter on CD, and Cola & Modern Woman Talk Their New LPs
I hunger and thirst, I hunger and thirst.
I’ve never yearned for personal ‘representation’ on screen. It’s always felt much more interesting to see stories about people whose lives are completely different to mine. But watching Mile End Kicks, a movie about a broke music critic, the appeal of being ‘seen’ was made palpable. The film even features a singalong to Bran Van 3000’s Drinking in L.A., a terrible song I secretly love (Drinking in L.A. > Steal My Sunshine, forever always).
I’m obsessed with this song: Hunger & Thirst (feat. Amanda Seyfried) by Daniel Blumberg
I saw The Testament of Ann Lee back in February. It ruled hard. Ever since, I’ve oft walked around singing “I hunger and thirst” (or sometimes parodied versions) to myself; Shaker hymn turned movie-musical number turned persistent earworm. Music in musicals is usually pretty gross and garish, but Daniel Blumberg’s reimagining of centuries-old hymnals—with avant-gardist composition, film-score emotion, and even squalls of black-metal—is inspired. And one of the many reasons Mona Fastvold’s film takes flight. That the movie’s—and this tune’s—lead is queen Amanda Seyfried, angel of one of 2025’s most unexpected viral musical moments, only adds more layers to this unlikely confluence of true righteousness.
+1 more divine spiritual just dropped on me in the cinema
Cork Sacred Harp Singers, I’m Going Home
Hokum, Damian McCarthy’s asshole-American-trapped-in-a-haunted-Irish-hotel horror flick, knows the simple pleasure of plunging an audience into darkness, patiently letting tension and terror mount. The feeling that you’re watching something beyond a rote genre movie truly crystallises when this song arrives at the end as an inspired credit-roll needle-drop, the wild polyphony of Sacred Harp harmonies echoing throughout the unsuspecting multiplex.
This week I watched: Mile End Kicks
Capturing the most important part of being a freelance music critic—you’re always totally broke, waiting to get paid by publications that may or may not bother—Chandler Levack’s snappy roman à clef is set in Montréal in 2011, against the city’s bourgeoning warehouse-show music scene. Sadly, that doesn’t mean its characters sit around talking about Sean Nicholas Savage, Blue Hawaii and d’Eon. Instead, the Arbutus era is but a backdrop for a coming-of-age rom-com, where our chaotic protagonist (played to the hilt by Barbie Ferreira) choses between two boys in the same (fictional) band, learning life lessons, self-acceptance, and not to be a shithead along the way.
Three interesting albums out today
Deb Never, ARCADE
The long-awaited debut LP for Deb Never is a record about falling in love. Well, maybe. “I’m not in love, I’m just a fool for you,” she sings, amidst a set of songs swept up in the possibilities and pitfalls of new romance. The chef’s-kiss production manages to achieve both clarity and atmospherics, with fascinating details in both sound design and lyrics (“Eric’s got the church keys, he knows where they hide the wine/If there’s a God, why does he only talk to me when I’m high”).
Loraine James, Detached from the Rest of You
After getting a taste for a more ‘pop’ approach with her record-long Anysia Kym collaboration, London electronic producer Loraine James brings more song-like qualities to her latest LP. A warmer, more atmospheric work big on thick ambience and tonal contrast, the absence of any hectic programming creates a sense of unexpected calm. And the guest list—Kym, Alan Sparhawk, Miho Hatori, Tirzah—is quite a cast.
Namasenda, Limbo
PC Music alumnus Namasenda returns five years after her debut LP Unlimited Ammo, a candy-coloured sugar-rush from the more-pop end of the hyperpop spectrum. Limbo makes that half-decade away feel like no time at all, delivering a set of sparkling tunes whose hyper-saturated sound palette and exuberant BPM is so upbeat it throttles towards the (intentionally) disturbing.
I own this on CD
I have many thousands of compact discs. They all tell a story. Let’s meet some of them.
Jana Hunter, JH (2004)
Devendra Banhart gave me this disc in a public toilet in Sacramento. It was 2004, the summer of freak folk, Banhart and queen Joanna Newsom on tour together. What goes on between men at urinals is sacred, but at one point DB asked if I’d heard Jana Hunter. I had not. He gave me his own copy, sharing the love; his label, Gnomonsong, would release Hunter’s proper debut, Blank Unstaring Heirs Of Doom, in 2005. Until this week, I hadn’t listened to this DEMO (it says in marker art on the CD-R) in years: it moves between familiar folk idioms and nuttier experiments, lo-fi hiss worn like a blanket, the spectre of Karen Dalton occasionally summoned. Interviewing Hunter in 2015 for a Lower Dens album (man, Lower Dens ruled), he was delighted when I told him this story of my first encounter with his music.
In deep: A review of Wolfram
Thornton’s sequel to 2017’s Sweet Country is a stunning work of landscape filmmaking, but its examination of colonial frontier horrors only comes alive when it abandons words.
On the radio this week
I host The International Pop Underground on RRR every Wednesday.
I interviewed Tim Darcy of Canadian post-punk trio Cola, talking about their new album, Cost of Living Adjustment, and their first-ever Australian tour. Excited to visit the Southern Hemisphere for the first time, Darcy outed himself as a fan of Melbourne outfits Tropical Fuck Storm and EXEK.
I also spoke to Sophie Harris, songwriter of noisy London outfit Modern Woman. Harris talked about Modern Woman’s debut album, Johnny’s Dreamworld, from its conflict-filled music to its evocative cover art.
Otherwise I dropped the brand new Kelela jam (into duendita into Kelsey Lu, real smooth), a Vera Ellen/Hemi Hemingway duet that opens with the line “you burst a blood vessel in your eye from puking too hard at the party”, and the radiant, v. sweet new Rosa Walton single… Listen to this week’s show.
What I’m looking forward to next week
It’s home turf for me, but the RRR Performance Space is such a sweet place to see music. It always sounds great. Feels like a perfect spot to watch Luluc play a homecoming show tonight, in advance of their latest LP, Sweet Thief. And to hear Zoë Randell’s voice, cutting through the air and straight to your heart.
See you in the funny pages.xo
P.S. I’m not historically great at asking for things. But, if you’d like to become a paid subscriber, you’ll get no additional content, just all the warm psychic benefits of supporting this typing in a real and tangible way. Thank you for making me feel not so lost and alone in this terrifying world.
It hit me a few shows ago what a gift the 3RRR performance space is. The close to flawless audio dynamic is augmented by the fact that audience - every last member - actually wants to be there. It's actually not hard to pay attention for a 45 min gig. Who knew?