Katie Nicholas, Katherine Priddy, & Demi Marriner – A Triple Review

Ghosting, aloofness, deceit. All themes that spring from Katie Nicholas’, Katherine Priddy’, and Demi Marriner’s latest singles.


‘In Your Shadow’ is the first. A melancholic tune from Katie Nicholas that could easily have featured on her ‘Feather’ EP. With a heady mix of vibrant strings, they communicate the vulnerability of one who loves but is not loved in return. A narrative which expresses hurt in a very poetic way. None more so than in the line “My treasure left the map / and he went cold”. Heartbreaking in the most beautiful of ways. Not that sadness dominates, as Chris Hillman’s pedal steel and Isabella Baker’s violin crescendo to an emotional release tinged with freedom. Joined by a lovely la-la-la melody of such pleasant subtlety that Katie delivers the final chorus line with quiet confidence. No longer haunted by “the boy who doesn’t call”.

‘Close Season’ is the second. Here, Katherine Priddy prefers a potent collection of percussion to present the hurt and frustration felt at someone who is emotionally distant, even coercive. In a particularly evocative second verse, the drums come to symbolise the contempt of this person, whose disinterest in the other is damningly expressed in the understated lines, “He looks over my shoulder / if I pick up a book”. What follows is then the most rock-infused track of Katherine’s career. Anger and frustration at the revelation of an affair blow as hard as the bitingly cold north wind expressed at the song’s end. It is truly a whirlwind of a song. The words of Simon Armitage lifted from the page in dramatic fashion.

‘Need to Know’ is the third. Demi Marriner’s second release from her upcoming EP delivers a powerful ultimatum. Electric guitar and punchy drumbeats demand honesty from one whose suspicious words and behaviour can no longer be tolerated. “I need to know where you went / where you’ve been / who was there / who did you meet”, she states, in a chorus steeped in catchy Americana hooks. Once again, Demi demonstrates her unique ability to combine straight-talking lyricism with an infectious musical arrangement. The result is genuine emotional investment. Both in the narrative and the music. None more so than in the bridge, where the clever wordplay combines with a luscious melodic lift. An ecstatic moment in a track that underlines her extraordinary talent.

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Eve Goodman – Summer Sun, Winter Trees

The songs on Eve Goodman’s debut album have accompanied her on the road of grief. Now, ‘Summer Sun, Winter Trees’ sees their release into the wider world. Catharsis is a word that comes to mind. Those who have experienced similar may find just that when they listen in.

The simplicity of Goodman’s arrangements contributes to such. It draws the poetic out while giving stability to emotion. Like watching ripples on the water after a stone has dropped in.

Each track is distinct. Yet there’s a journey through all ten. Bookended by the title track whose liminality stretches like a blanket across the other eight.

There are some which are obvious in their meaning. Others whose stream of consciousness’ requires more thought. Sometimes the lyrics take you deep into the action. Sometimes they carry you down a river of reflection. All are, in some way, a balm for the soul.

‘That Day’ feels like a pivot. The starkness of its opening line. “There are days when I think of joining you”. The qualification of the second. “Not in that way. Not from that place”. Grief running through a mind with a silver-lined sky.

‘Jay Feather’ is much the same. A very subtle change to produce something more uplifting. The discovery of a loved one still existing in creation.

From the heaviness of ‘Pellter’ to the lightness of ‘Pick Up All The Pieces’. The captive nature of ‘Burn’ to the proclamation of ‘Quiet Revolution’. This is Eve Goodman expressing something so intimate and affecting. Collating with such vulnerability. Sharing so freely.

‘Summer Sun, Winter Trees’ is an album of nuance. Of universality. Of humanity.

‘Summer Sun, Winter Trees’ can be purchased from Eve Goodman’s Bandcamp page here.

Featured Image (C) Eve Goodman

Ellie Gowers – You, the Passenger

The music of Ellie Gowers always serves as a welcome breath. New EP ‘You, the Passenger’ is no different. Except it finds Ellie reaching beyond the bounds of Folk to incorporate Indie-Pop and Soft Rock. Whereas ‘Dwelling by the Weir’ was a gentle ramble across Warwickshire countryside, this latest record is a mountainous trek through the clouds of personal emotion. The result is not arduous at all but inviting. Introspection that serves to make the listener stop and reflect. Whether in ‘A Moment’, with its lilting desire for mindful escapism, or ‘Sorrow’, with its rich poetic metaphor (chief among them, “there’s only so much a magpie can take”), she invites us into an inner world that fans have rarely seen before. Her songwriting style and subsequent musicality draw comparisons with Gabrielle Aplin. ‘I Can Be Right for You’ certainly contains the same elongated vocals and swirling arrangements of piano and drums. Whilst ‘Love in a Park (on a Sunday Afternoon)’ reflects a positive diversion into pop-coated lyricism. This is not Ellie Gowers as we’ve known her. Neither is it a betrayal of her musical self. This is a progressive sound that fits the song’s setting perfectly. Just as the title track’s elevated strings and thumping drumbeats sit nicely alongside a narrative of strained relationship. The atmospheric Folk of contemporaries like Katherine Priddy ensures she never strays too far from her generic familiarity. ‘Testing the Water’ is testament to that. But this is Ellie Gowers with an added dimension. Another string to her bow. And ‘You, the Passenger’ definitely hits the spot.

You can order ‘You, the Passenger’, Ellie’s latest EP, via her BandCamp page here.

Featured Image (C) Ellie Gowers

April Moon, Amy-Jo, & Vic Allen – A Triple Review

Woven into the songs of April Moon, Amy-Jo and Vic Allen are aspects of love that intertwine. Released on the same day, they speak across the generations to form a picture of the dreams, desires and pressures of the everywoman.


Starting on a Saskatchewan farm, ‘Uptown Lady Life’ tells the story of a young girl whose aspirations stretch to the simple but symbolic purchase of a fur coat. Inspired by Jaime from April Moon’s grandmother, this neotraditional country tune transports the listener right back to its rural life setting. We find the protagonist struggling to make ends meet, racking up the bills with successive poor harvests. It leads her and her husband with little choice but to sell up – an opportunity perhaps to move to the city for a better life. Needless to say, it doesn’t work out. But even against a backdrop of endless work (both in a factory and at home), the whimsical and upbeat guitar riffs represent her eternal optimism for social advancement. It is a really affectionate portrait that April Moon depict.

By her own admission, Amy-Jo offers a highly-romanticised version of this era in ‘Love Before the Internet’. It isn’t without its nod to economic insecurity but the girl’s “modest pay for part-time work in a village café” is mixed with contentment. Like her last single, ‘Young, In Love, and Broke’, the pressures of daily life can be overcome by the presence of love in a strong relationship. What’s more, this love seems to be enough, in contrast to the prayers of the protagonist in April Moon’s story for something more. Delivered in her typically-intimate and stripped back style, Amy-Jo still paints a colourful picture of pre-internet meet-ups and real-world interactions that were often limited to “the fifteen miles around their town”. Compare this to a plethora of dating apps now connecting us across the globe, and she succeeds in championing the supposed simplicity of a bygone era. The exhaustive exhale on the final word of the song’s bridge only adds to the irony of modern-day technology. Social media, as we’re finding out, is not always positively progressive.

Vic Allen highlights one of the problems of social media in today’s society. ‘Wake Up Pretty’ is a suitably poignant and relatable track which powerfully expresses the dark side of our image-conscious world. She outlines the “flawless” and “airbrushed” figures found whilst scrolling through ourfeeds and, against a backdrop of achingly emotional guitar strings, reveals their devastating impact. Idealism and comparison are the enemies. Low self-esteem and body consciousness their effects. The dream of a fur coat seems almost childlike in this context, even as it speaks back to fashion as a means of social validation. Here, the physical body too is at stake. “Too tall, too thin / we just can’t win”, says Allen, and “it makes me question who I should be”. It captures in all seriousness how unattainable perfection sets a standard that inevitably chips away at our own identity. But for all its brutal truth, the chorus remains hopeful of a day when “I’ll take off my make-up and wake up pretty”.

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Caitlin Mae – Mr Moving On

Welsh Country artist Caitlin Mae retains the rock and ratchets it up on her latest single. ‘Mr Moving On’ contains more than a streak of what has become her signature sound. This is a production with plenty of electric guitar and heavy drumbeat. Instruments that speak to a narrative of regret. This is a case of girl-meets-boy but true feelings are submerged until “He couldn’t wait any longer for me to admit it”. Contained within, in true Caitlin Mae fashion, is a positive spin. Whether it be knowledge, wisdom, or inspiration gained for “this song”, not all is lost even as love turns up too late. Not least musically, on a track which has much greater finesse than previous. No doubt a result of her re-location to Nashville. Further evidence that she continues to grow into an artist worth watching out for.

Featured Image (C) Caitlin Mae

See Emily Play – What the Hell is BDD

It feels like See Emily Play is breathing new life into the alt-country scene. If it’s not the quirkily-named single ‘Yoko Ono was Seven Years Older than John’, then it’s the unconventional musicality of ‘What the Hell is BDD’. I say this because the subject of mental health is so often accompanied by reflective or balladeering tones. Yet here, her new single is punctuated with the rapid and rocky sounds of contemporary bluegrass. What results is a refreshing and fascinating take on the subject of body image. More specifically, it chronicles her experience with body dysmorphic disorder, from “a comment overheard” to “approximately thirty-six fucking months since I felt like me”. The chaotic rhythm of the song is at once delightful and unnerving, as Emily plays with expectations to arrive at a sincere truth. She once again does so via an unexpected path. One that, despite the entertainment, doesn’t lose the more serious message beneath.

‘What the Hell is BDD’ will be released on November 1st 2024, when it can be heard on most streaming platforms, including Spotify.

You Kill Me – Katie Nicholas ft. Robert Vincent

The title of Katie Nicholas’ new single has become hauntingly relevant. The story of ‘You Kill Me’ is about forbidden love but it takes on a more sinister meaning in the context of its release. It almost didn’t see the light of day this week due to a technical error, exposing the dark side to a faceless and automated music industry. How this affects the mental health of artists has been brought firmly into the spotlight by Katie. It is in many ways a far cry from the laid-back musings of the track’s pedal steel. Its acoustic rendering is classic Americana, containing a hint of whimsical Folk that has followed from her most recent EP, ‘Feather‘. The addition of Robert Vincent on vocals shapes the narrative’s languid despair. “You hurt me in the softest way” sums up the overall feeling of the music. Sadly, Katie’s real-life experience has been a lot more severe. In a landscape domineered by streaming giants and selfish algorithms, ‘You Kill Me’ is, like so much music today, at the mercy of these gatekeepers. But to those at the grassroots, her determination to persevere and share her latest creation is a sign of hope-filled rebellion.

You can follow Katie’s story on her Instagram. To purchase the single, visit her page on BandCamp.

Rona Mac – Honeymilk and Heavy Weather

‘Honeymilk and Heavy Weather’ are two facets that deftly describe the light and dark of Rona Mac’s latest collection of work. Hers is an album written from the depths of a soul versed in the tragic grief and fragile beauty of life. Dedicated to a friend who took her own – Emily Victoria Hemingway – a few years ago, Rona unashamedly explores the complexity of emotions that arise whilst weaving them into a larger tapestry of friendships. The result is tear-stained, arresting, and life-affirming.

The theme of water runs throughout. It is a rushing river that opens the record which slowly gives way, on ‘Seafront Room’, to voice-notes atop a Latinised guitar. It is an understated piece in both its music and lyricism. A sense of foreboding becomes increasingly present. “It’s about time we talked” represents the pivot upon which a conversation around mental health starts.

‘Afon Cleddau’, with its playful Rootsy twang, seems to present its waters in a healing way. The song invites them to “come on close / you’re what she needed the most”. Words which take on a far more complex meaning later on. For now, the touch of water on skin echoes the sensuality of ‘Body’, caught lovingly in the line “I’m seeing with my eyes shut”. The delicacy of the piano keys also captures an intimacy that speaks to something bigger than oneself. Such expansive contemplation is continued into ‘Brothers in Mud’, a song so good as to offer multiple interpretations even as a sense of unity in communal love underpins it. It is the first in a series of moments when tears emerge, as Rona gives the ordinary an affecting power. “This table was an island / your garden was freedom” speak to a safety and security that slowly slip away with the harsh realities of life. Not that they disappear completely, as the happiness and joy in the verbatim recordings of its final 30-seconds illustrate. But they mix to give a far more intricate picture of what it means to be human.

‘Wdig’, a town in Pembrokeshire where “the streets are just ghosts / and I find myself in the dark”, transposes this human element into a sense of place. It captures brilliantly how geography can influence our stories and memory. At the same time, how music is shaped by the landscape that surrounds. Akin to the likes of Georgia Ruth and Jodie Marie, there is something ethereal that sweeps in from the West coast of Wales to become embodied in the musicality of Rona Mac’s sound. Add the pain prevalent in the best of Country Music’s songwriting simplicity and what comes across is another poignant moment, perhaps summed up in the lines “friendships… remind me that life gets hard… / I just wish we could all sit round the table and go back to the start”.

It is here that the album cranks up the pathos. A single line in ‘Sense’ – “when you chose a world without you in it” – is enough to bring me to tears and draw afresh my own grief. Meanwhile, ‘And Then They Found Her’ presents a more matter-of-fact but no less visceral take on mental health. A fierce polemic underwritten by an understated soundtrack, it takes aim at a broken and dehumanising system much like ‘The Poet’ by Katie Nicholas. It is Mac at her quietly seething best – sorrow and despair mixing with dark irony, like in W.O.M.A.N and Polidics. In between, ‘showmehowyoumourn’ places an emphasis on the spoken word, which through an endearing acoustic arrangement gleans a series of fascinating questions and thoughts to give yet another dimension to the album’s primary topic.

To end, Rona Mac chooses a suitably Folksy arrangement. ‘Buttercup’ is a sign of hope as much as acceptance of the temporal nature of our relationships. The two sides of the human coin remain present – life and death “cruelly entwined” – but there is a quiet appreciation of what the one can bring to the other. There is a sense of release that does not make light of that from which Honeymilk and Heavy Weather springs. Rather, it pays tribute, in the most honest and openly vulnerable way, to those who are no longer with us, whose lives can lead us to a place where, in time, we can come to appreciate our own.

Featured Image (C) Rona Mac

Mikki Evans & Gary Quinn – Mr Right Now

Mikki Evans has been blessed with a crack team of UK Country’s finest on ‘Mr Right Now’. Not only has Tim Prottey-Jones had a hand in its production, but Gary Quinn joins her as both co-writer and performer. The song is a lovely duet featuring soft and subtle vocals that sparkle around a light and airy soundtrack. The touches of pop in amongst the acoustic guitar lift the romantic mood around two people who have judged each other far too quickly. “I might have got it wrong” sums up a confessional chorus in which perceptions are challenged to come to a new understanding of what this relationship actually means. There is a dawning on both that “you got me to believe that I am enough” – a sign of real love, in which steadfast commitment becomes the measure by which ‘Mr Right’ is judged. Mikki Evans has found the musical equivalent in a growing partnership with Gary Quinn that sees her music going from strength to strength. Here, Prottey-Jones just adds a little bit of extra magic.

Featured Image (C) Mikki Evans

Nia Nicholls – Goldilocks

In ‘Goldilocks’, the new single from Nia Nicholls, three bears are the least of her worries. Instead, taking the dialectical tension at the heart of the well-known fairytale, and subverting it in the context of a relationship, she highlights a man as the cause of her troubles. Using her inimitable style of light-hearted country-pop, she presents the problem of perfectionism in respect of the male gaze with a delicious irony. The chorus is the epitome of this, presenting the ways in which men try to conform women to a certain image to the extent that “maybe I [should] become a contortionist”. Such subtle sarcasm is what gives the lyrics of Nia Nicholls’ songs their unique flavour. Hers is a message wrapped in dry humour and playful music which nevertheless conveys a brilliantly brutal truth. In this case, “it’s you who needs to change”. For love is not self-seeking, as the famous passage includes, but accepts us as we are.