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Knee-deep in a post-winter slump, I’ve made it past the depressingly cold seasons and
entered the UK’s slightly less cold spring. As I grasp at stray rays of sunshine and step over
piles of un-washed clothes on my floor, I clutch at the strings of my earbuds to keep my
mood warm when the air isn’t. The only thing missing? Something new to listen to. I’m all
for discovering new music, especially at the turn of a new year and season. So, when I
stumbled upon the alt-Indie band Blue Violet, I was excited at the prospect of something
fresh to add to my playlist. The North London duo comprises singer Sarah McGrigor and
guitarist Sam Gotley, though their quality of music and musical dexterity reflects that of a
full-fledged band. Their newest album, FauxAnimaux (released January 24th), is rich in raw
and ethereal vocals by McGrigor, having enticed me as a listener more and more with each
new track.
Let’s jump right in with the title track: Sweet Success. Crisp vocals overlay a synthy
background, with multi-layered harmonies and reverbed electric guitar filling the song's
scope. The track is perfect for a brisk city stroll or as the backdrop of an indie movie
montage—think leather jackets, neon lights, Tumblr filters, and cigarettes. Eliciting a rich
and bright sound, fun guitar riffs interplay with alien-like synthesized beats, laced heavy with
distortion.
I was quickly enthralled by the track: Fire. It is the kind of song that inexplicably gets your
foot tapping and your head nodding rhythmically like your body has an intrinsic response to
the music—an uncontrollable desire to move. One key word comes to mind: groovy. Groovy
like your favorite 80s band, from crunchy vocals to gem-studded drum sets. Bell bottom
jeans. Gelled hair. People dancing without inhibitions, their feet pat pat pattering across the
floor of a dimly-lit underground bar. The distinct style of production, with its futuristic 80s
sound, hooked me as a listener and willed my feet to move. The build-up of synth beats,
electric guitar, drums, and classic rock vocals was satisfying to the ears and the soul, with
instrumentals and vocals melting together like butter. I loved the drop in instrumentals at
2:45, creating space for a short vocal solo before an immediate return of instrumental fullness
at the end of the lyrics: “I know what you have in mind.” If you’re anything like me, your
head might stop bobbing as the instrumentals pause, for just enough time to follow the
soulfully echoed lyrics before the song returns to its rhythmic nod once again.
Speaking of groovy, Boogie Shoes similarly encapsulated an 80s style of indie rock and roll.
Its anthem-like chorus, with its lyrics “dance for pleasure, dance for pain, dust off your
boogie shoes and dance again,” is especially addictive. McGrigor’s vocals stunned in a
nostalgic rock style, and the catchy melody quickly became something I wanted to sing along
to and move to, becoming yet another key dance-along track of the album.
Teeth Out struck a chord with me on a different level, as I find myself partial to lyrical talent
and deeper storytelling themes. Not only are the lyrics overwhelmingly reflective of my daily
struggle with an anxiety disorder, but the soft and nostalgic melodic structure allows the
melancholic lyrics to shine truly. The lyrical metaphor: “teeth out,” cunningly describes the
state of flight or fight that we so often find ourselves in, weary of the impact of our every
decision and equally those decisions that we fail to make. The question of ‘what if’ plagues
my mind like no other, and though the weight of this overwhelm can feel irrationally
unbearable, I surrender its presence to being merely a thought. The lyrics of Teeth Out
exemplify this idea, quietly reminding us that we can be united in our struggles and our
shared feeling of the weight of the world.
I fear that we’ve all had the unfortunate experience of navigating ever-changing friendships
and relationships. It seems to be a rite of passage in our teens and twenties, almost
religiously. Survival voices this struggle of navigating hot and cold relationships, with the
key chorus line “Every time you let me go, I turn on survivor mode,” sums up this sentiment.
The perpetual return of disappointment and hurt is displayed with artful conviction, namely
through the song’s wistful background vocals and melancholic soft-rock production.
In The Librarian, we finally hear Gotley’s voice—and it did not disappoint. His baritone,
brain-scratching vocals added a depth to this duo that I didn’t know was missing. My mind
immediately went to Matt Corby’s Light My Dart Up (vocally) and Gang of Youths’ Do Not
Let Your Spirit Wane (vocally and melodically). My favorite line, “I keep turning lemonade
into lemons again” is, at surface level, a fun play on the famous quote, but metaphorically
profound and poetic. Paired with the previous lyrics of “this life keeps giving me everything,”
Gotley expresses the feeling of helplessness that plagues us when things consistently go awry
as if life itself is against us. The slower-paced instrumentals, with gentle piano chords
beneath the guitar and slow drums, give a dreamy feel to the track. Paired with Gotley’s
vocals and a hauntingly melancholic lyricism, The Librarian became an instant favorite of
mine.
Blue Violet seems not to confine themselves to the strict boundaries of one genre, rather
enveloping listeners in a space of experimental sound and introspective storytelling. Although
I am rarely unable to connect emotionally with songs, Blue Violet has proved to do so in an
exceptionally moving way. If you are looking for artists with a sense of 80s nostalgia, fluidity
between indie/folk and rock genres, and something to move your feet and emotions, I urge
you to look no further than Blue Violet’s electric album Faux Animaux.
Words by Ella Stillhart, she/her
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