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Listen to Australian Synth Songstress Seja’s “Here is One I Know You Know” — Plus Watch Video for “Time to the Brim”
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Dying to remember all the things that I forgot
Flying synapses are they in my mind or not
I got space to the brim I can waste it
But this place is grim and I hate it
Versatility is often the hallmark of an adept composer. Seja’s third album, “Here is One I Know You Know,” serves as a testament to this. The record, an homage to analogue and her cherished synthesizers, underscores her evolution as an artist. Emanating from her intimately set home studio in Brisbane, the album melds the pulsating rhythms of synths, drum machines, and computer bongos, harmoniously juxtaposed with her distinct, mellifluous voice. The result? An album that not only pushes boundaries but also showcases Seja’s profound capability to intertwine disparate musical elements.
Diving into “Here is One I Know You Know,” one isn’t merely partaking in a musical dalliance, but entering an affair rich in synthetic melody and nuance. There’s a resonance of an artist who both strikes a chord and woos it with the fervor of a seasoned romantic. Her pop proclivities are as effervescent as champagne bubbles, yet, this songbird refuses to let her notes be confined. One moment, she’s enveloping us in the ghostly embrace of dreampop and the sentimental allure of 90s neo-psych, and the next, she’s guiding us through the rhythmic maze of psychedelic krautrock funk and the shadowed corners reminiscent of a 1980s memory. Through it all, Seja’s songwriting – whimsical, deeply personal, and with a flair that lures us into her melodious web. She has truly outdone herself with this gorgeous record.
“I was listening to a lot of Harmonia and Brian Eno, as well as Yellow Magic Orchestra and was really loving the relationship between their layered electronic and acoustic instruments, says Seja. “I tried to sing and write from the heart without masking the meaning behind metaphors.”
The album opens with All Your Sorries, with hints of Stereolab, Portishead, BEAK>, Warpaint, Jane Weaver, and the delicious pathos of Weyes Blood. The melancholic track has the warmth of nostalgia with a bit of retrofuturism. This contemplative ballad grapples with internal desires and external expectations. Striving for connection, battling temptation, and recognizing the futility of apologies, there’s a pronounced emphasis on self-compassion and silencing unproductive self-critique.
Through striking metaphors, I’m A Revolver describes a persistent tension between desire and disillusionment. The repeated imagery hints at inescapable patterns and the yearning for clarity amidst self-inflicted turmoil, culminating in a desire for liberation. Es Passt, sung in German, captures the essence of profound connection. There’s a cosmic undertone suggesting Fate’s hand in a bond. Amidst the vastness of the universe, a shared moment stands still, underscoring the depth of their affection. Home serves as an anchor — a refuge from chaos, a place of warmth and familiar comforts…as well as a deep-rooted emotion, embodying love, wisdom, and self-assuredness.
The lyrics to Luck of Numbers depict a deep intimacy, where vulnerability aligns with mutual understanding. Drinking becomes a metaphor for absorbing one’s true essence and escaping life’s distortions. In the overwhelming noise of worries, the duo seeks solace in shared dreams and unspoken feelings…and perhaps blind optimism. With Minor Chords, Major Problems, time’s dilation becomes symbolic of mental anguish, grappling with reality versus illusion. There’s a palpable desire for escape from this disorienting state and a plea for help to navigate overwhelming emotions.
“Time To The Brim” drags us, somewhat willingly, through the murky waters of identity and memories, questioning our very essence. There’s a dizzy dance between the vast expanse of time and a disheartening gloom, all while chasing some fleeting sense of worth. The accompanying cinematic piece, a brainchild of Sleepy Mountain Films (Paris and Jacob), toys with time in a whimsical fashion, depicting Seja in an endeavour to sew a tiny felt Minimoog…which happens to be her charming side hustle!
Watch the video for “Time to the Brim” below:
Seja’s approach to this album leans heavily on the tangible allure of hardware, minimizing the digital touch of software. In embracing both steadfast and quirky equipment, she aspired to capture the elegance of the imperfect. Within her home studio’s sanctuary, Seja wore many hats — that of a vocalist, a synthesizer aficionado, and a dexterous handler of instruments ranging from guitars and bass to the nuanced sounds of the Omnichord and Rhodes piano. Her adept use of drum machines, programming, and sequencing further underscores her multifaceted artistry.
Here is One I Know You Know is out now via It Records.
The album Here is One I Know You Know welcomes a few close friends into the fold playing real acoustic instruments, including Jen Boyce (Ball Park Music) on bass, Stella Mozgawa (Warpaint) on percussion, Fred Armisen (SNL, Portlandia) on octobans, Georgia Mooney (All Our Exes Live in Texas) on backing vocals, George Browning (Velociraptor) on drums and percussion, Nicole Perry on congas, Chris Farrer (the Quickening) on guitar solos, Conrad Greenleaf (Richard in Your Mind) on bass and Danny Widdicombe (the Wilson Pickers) on pedal steel. Hotmagnets was production assistant and noise merchant.
Here’s a video of their sound memories making the album:
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