Music Review: The Bloomsbury Sessions
Source: Live Music Society
Livvie Hall reviews Live Music Society’s latest project: an album of original work from seven talented UCL artists.
The Live Music Society undertook an ambitious project with The Bloomsbury Sessions this summer – and they’ve crafted something really impressive. Pulling together original writing and recording from seven different artists, this album showcases the wealth and diversity of homegrown musical talent at UCL. Compilations are a challenge to get right, but Live Music have done a pretty good job here. From alt rock to jazz fusion, this record convincingly navigates a breadth of sounds and styles each as good as the last. The album is brilliantly produced with recording quality that stands up to a full-volume test drive.
Ascension is an energetic, edgy start to The Bloomsbury Sessions. This recording is engineered to sound a little imperfect, as if you’re listening to London-Hong Kong band PIK SHA perform live. This is Live Music Society after all. The vocals are loose and confident, like those of Miles Kane or Robert Smith from The Cure, but I wonder if this track would have benefited from more backing vocals to bolster the voice and give more direction to the instrumentation. I really enjoyed the bridge: the dotted rhythms here add contrast and halt the pace until guitars and drums burst into action again. This is a hyper, gritty opening track and it certainly made me sit up and pay attention.
For me, the highlights of this album are Something You Know and Mystery. The success of these tracks comes down to a certain finesse in writing and performance. Bandra Hursel and Adam Haddour are confident and precise in their distinct musical styles, and they lead a balanced blend of instrumentation and dynamics with both proficiency and passion.
Something You Know is a song to groove to. It’s a concoction of guitar flourishes, zingy vocals, rich synth chords, and a bouncy bass line that bursts with funky off-beat energy. Bandra Hursel reminds me of bands like Hiatus Kaiyote, Steely Dan, and Jamiroquai, all of which boldly dance on the borders of jazz, R&B, funk, and soul. Chris Thomas’ vocals are smooth and playful, soaring effortlessly into full-bodied falsetto. This record overflows with talent and soul, leaving plenty of room for improv and even a drum solo!
Mystery is a moody, pacey piece quite like Damien Rice’s It Takes a Lot to Know a Man, but with a soft rock Radiohead edge. Haddour’s vocals are brooding and complement the dark tone, intensified by closely textured harmonies. This track moves with rich momentum and it’s the kind of thing I’d listen to while driving. The bridge is cleverly written, introducing a creepier discordant sound that suits the theme of ‘mystery’. This track expertly crafts feelings of confusion and longing.
I like the play on French and English in Lost in Translation. Lisa-Maria Tanase has a unique, soft voice and I love that her French accent comes through in the vocals, blending well with the minor key. Developing the instrumentation beyond acoustics here, too, makes the track distinct from other French-English artists like Carla Bruni and Keren Ann. My only suggestion to Tanase would be to introduce more intrigue to the verses – perhaps a punchier or more playful accompaniment would accomplish this. I could hear the welcome influence of Regina Spektor, Fiona Apple, and Feist, who all embrace a quirkier sound.
Chris Thomas brings an honest vulnerability to Blank Page Anxiety, contrasting with the pretty, melancholy melodies in the piano accompaniment. He’s really channelling a Tom Odell, Matt Maltese, singer-songwriter style here. The Wolf is a wonderfully unsettling song, and Sheida Kiran brings together several features that remind me of Agnes Obel: broken chords in the piano-string arrangement, close harmonies, minor key, and abstract lyricism. Finally, I must admit that, while cinematic pop is not exactly my cup of tea, Catrin Harris almost sways me with Amsterdam. This is a complex song, written and performed with great talent. I’d like to see a little more expression in the vocals. The volume dynamics are effective but I think Harris could really touch the listener by sacrificing vibrato for more softness at times.
The Bloomsbury Sessions is a masterclass in meaningful songwriting. These seven young artists transcend the simple emotions of happy and sad to express something more complex and real. The Live Music Society has built a platform for students to write, perform, and grow as recording artists. This is not a half-hearted project – the time and talent invested in the production of this record is tangible. I’d recommend this album to those who enjoy finding new artists, and to anyone who wants an insight into the diverse musical talent that walks the cloisters at UCL.
You can listen to The Bloomsbury Sessions on Spotify now.