Secret Love is the finest expression yet of the profound friendships that created Dry Cleaning. Here, frontperson Florence Shaw, guitarist Tom Dowse, drummer Nick Buxton and bassist Lewis Maynard take their place in rock’s avant garde, catalysing the Reaganite paranoia of early 80s US punk and hardcore with the dry strut of Keith Richards, stoner rock, dystopian degradation, playful no wave and pastoral fingerpicking, while Florence’s delivery, meticulously calibrated to her bandmates’ soundscapes, asserts her in a lineage of spoken-word artists stretching from Laurie Anderson to Life Without Buildings’ Sue Tompkins. Producer Cate Le Bon likens the impression of listening to walking through a city; these 11 songs might also arrive like distinct images in a gallery. The record started life in Peckham rehearsal spaces, the south London four-piece writing, playing and responding to each other in the room, the instrumentalists egging each other on as Florence drew from her collection of postcards and found materials: in Dry Cleaning, music and lyrics form an inseparable, generative whole. Then they bundled their demos in a suitcase and took them to musical friends with strong palettes to test and twist them. Secret Love evolved through affirming sessions at Jeff Tweedy’s Chicago studio the Loft and explosive ones with Gilla Band’s Alan Duggan and Daniel Fox in Dublin, taking advantage of the sonic particulars of each space, and finally with Cate in the Loire Valley. Some acts would fear being subsumed by these other musical iconoclasts. Dry Cleaning wanted to push themselves harder than they ever had before. “We’re very confident about our identity,” says Florence. “It doesn’t seem to be possible to break it down.” The opposite: Secret Love is a singular, career-defining statement, coming after debut New Long Leg (2021) and Stumpwork (2022). They push the cheeky no wave of compulsively catchy lead single Hit My Head All Day somewhere totally unexpected, powered by pistons of breathy synths and magnificent cresting arcs of guitar. Cruise Ship Designer is a classic Dry Cleaning pop song in the vein of Gary Ashby, sung from the perspective of a nautical entrepreneur who has deluded himself that his work serves society. There is unprecedented darkness in Blood, a lurch between forlorn chill and desperate alarm that confronts the normalisation of witnessing atrocities in Gaza, the West Bank and Ukraine online, and the British government’s callous, capitalist attitude to war. Amid these disingenuous actors, Florence turns over questions of trust, and volunteers more of herself than ever before, a profound gesture of connection. She finds Secret Love “quite sad and dark,” she says, but feels good about the honesty of that reflection. “I really love confessional things,” she says. “It always makes me feel calm when people are sharing hidden stuff. I hate when you get a sense that there’s stuff people aren’t saying.” The more introspective songs search for coherence between interior and exterior: the panicked longing for connection in spite of the certainty that people are repulsed by you in the Pentangle-influenced Let Me Grow and You’ll See the Fruit; the warring frustration, lust and foolishness in the bristling crucible of Rocks, Dry Cleaning’s most teeth-gritting rager. My Soul / Half Pint is the goofiest expression of this tension, exploring Florence’s love of tidying – organising to a satisfying internal logic – but hatred of cleaning, a tedious social good. The album affirms the power of coherence in love. The celestial Secret Love (Concealed in a Drawing of a Boy) preserves an unspoken crush for eternity. The Cute Things is a daydreamy swirl about the beauty of self-sacrifice in true relationships; the barely adorned pulse of I Need You uses the characteristically off-kilter image of being fired by Donald Trump on The Apprentice as an analogue to the beautifully deranged pressure of pinning all your hopes on one partner: “The finger coming down: you.” It’s no mistake that Secret Love ends on a similarly optimistic note to Stumpwork. Icebergs, the closing track to their second album, advised: “Stay interested in the world around you / Keep the curiosity of a child if you can.” Here, the song Joy offers “don’t give up on being sweet” in the face of troubling mansophere cults. It can be hard not to feel overwhelmed by the lurid grotesques beaming dogma from your FYP page and wonder if you shouldn’t give up and join them. But Secret Love is a reminder to find the people you can go floppy with; a transmission of the band’s love and trust in one another that listeners might share in, too.

Ever since SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE released their self-titled debut in 2014, they’ve developed a reputation for being your favorite band’s favorite band. Theirs is the music of immersion, of confrontation, the kind that makes a listener stop and wonder, “How are they even doing that?” And as the years wear on, that sense of bafflement has made room for SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE to quietly but steadily ascend, with their most recent album, 2018’s Hypnic Jerks, leaving them poised on the precipice of wider recognition. On April 9th, 2021 SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE released their fourth album and Saddle Creek debut, ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH. The album signals new chapters for the band on multiple fronts, being the first to feature their new three-piece lineup, as well as the first to be entirely self-recorded and produced. Guitarist/vocalist Zack Schwartz and bassist/vocalist Rivka Ravede are now joined by new member Corey Wichlin, a multi-instrumentalist who relocated from Chicago to the band’s home territory of Philadelphia last year. In the spring of 2020, the trio began to write their new album at a distance by emailing files back and forth. “The process of making this album was basically the exact opposite of our experience creating Hypnic Jerks,” Schwartz explains. “We had to record that in seven days, because that was the studio time we had, whereas ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH was made over the course of three, four months.” An abundance of time wasn’t the only difference. Recording remotely offered the band an incentive to experiment with new possibilities for their sound, resulting in an album that is unlike any SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE has released before. Once the band finished recording and mixing the album digitally, they mastered it to tape, lending the collection a textured, dimensional quality. “We knew we wanted to use some new instrumental elements on this album,” Wichlin says. “We’re not going fully electronic,” Schwartz adds, “But guitar, bass, drums just get kind of monotonous.” ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH opens with a sonic squall, an abstract composition that transitions into the brisk highway meditation “ENTERTAINMENT.” As a listening experience, the album is a persistent exercise in the bait-and-switch, in what the band describes as a conscious effort to draw the listener deeper into their mystifying manufactured landscape. Take “GIVE UP YOUR LIFE,” a sprawling track that drops two semitones from beginning to end, a cheeky mastering decision that would fool anyone trying to play along. “There are some bizarre tunings on this album,” Schwartz says while reflecting on the process that wrought the single “IT MIGHT TAKE SOME TIME.” “That one started out as a pretty normal rock song, but then we heavily fucked with it to make it feel more discordant.” “Now it sounds like drowning,” Ravede adds. Though ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH doesn’t cohere in a single, unifying theme, the band samples old obscure commercials throughout, many of which guided the process of writing a song instead of serving as an appendage. Schwartz describes his songwriting process as a stream-of-consciousness, while Ravede asserts that she doesn’t typically write vocal parts with any specific intention in mind. “When I write, the narrative usually doesn’t present itself until after the song is done. And even then, it depends on how the listener interprets the words,” she reflects. Regardless of how dreamlike SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE’s lyrics can be, reality rears its head throughout ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH. “THE SERVER IS IMMERSED” is perhaps the poppiest song on the album, but it borrows inspiration from Schwartz’s day job working in the food service industry. Lyrically, it tracks the monotony of the day-to-day, inducing hypnosis until all three band members begin to sing, snapping the listener out of the spell. If there’s a song on ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH that best encapsulates what SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE is all about, it’s “THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN’T DO,” a track that illuminates the growth that this band has undergone since their foundation to now. The song wrestles between the sublime and the monstrous as Ravede’s feather-light vocals are overtaken by Schwartz’s strained howl, underscored by shattering live drums that recall the band’s scrappy origins. “This song draws on some of the sonic aesthetic of SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE’s old records and aligns those sounds with the electronic instrumentation we’ve been exploring,” Wichlin says. ENTERTAINMENT, DEATH isn’t a metamorphosis, it’s simply the newest iteration of a longstanding project. “There’s a line in the Bee Gees documentary that I think applies to us. I’ll paraphrase: ‘We may not have always connected, but we always stuck around,’” Ravede says. Schwartz jumps in, “SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE: we’re still here.”

Music for that end of time capsule, music for the working class, music for all ages Music NOT for the politicians, bankers, cops nor feds Music for the empathic, music for the sex workers, drug dealers and addicts, music for those who somehow feel everything is alive! Singer, songwriter, producer, exploring themes of trauma, post industrial society, love and large bodies of water. His music delivers on feeling as well as presenting his unique worldview laden with ear worm hooks and infectious melodies. Not defined by time, with head nods to eighties virtuosos, such as Arthur Russell and Prince, he’s carving out a fresh sound defined by his intimate vocals, raw guitar licks and undeniable groove. Nourished By Time, traverses a broad spectrum of sound, allowing his songwriting to dictate the ever changing mood he orchestrates; whether it is love or loss.  In 2022 Nourished By Time released his EP, Erotic Probiotic on London imprint, Scenic Route. Garnering support from Jazz Supernova with a premiere of ‘Give It Away’ on her flagship BBC 1Xtra show. As well as support on BBC 6 Radio featured on the The Freak Zone show. Multiple plays from the likes of Yaeji, Anu, Beautiful Swimmers and more on NTS. This year he has been cultivating a strong live reputation in the US & UK with performances at Servant Jazz Quarters, Below Stone Nest, Trinity Centre with Lunch Money Life, Public Records in New York and Current Space in Baltimore supporting Suzanne Kraft.