The Singles Jukebox

Slowly but surely adding to our tally of songs in Cornish…

[Video]
[6.43]

Katherine St Asaph: Two out of three Pipettes (after Rose Elinor Dougall’s excellent Stellular) are making fantastic Broadcast homages now, but more serrated and more twinkly. Just thought more people should know this.
[7]

Crystal Leww: How tired do you think Gwenno is of answering questions about The Pipettes? Anyway, I think “Pull Shapes” is brilliant. I think this is bird noises.
[3]

Alfred Soto: Now those are pretty synths, and with vocals like cuckoo birds chirping over them “Ti Ha Mor” conjures a happy ecosystem. 
[7]

Nortey Dowuona: Twinkling synths and glancing bass synths lightly brush the muddy, foamy bass and grungy, buried drums, as well as the glassy guitars as Gwenno drifts through.
[6]

William John: Tender Buttons-style kosmische designed, evidently, to preserve dying language and pay homage to local art history. Gwenno inhabits this landscape with a solemn reverence, pacing her words at a rate so careful as to lend them a dignity and gravitas.
[7]

Katie Gill: This somehow sounds so fresh but also amazingly 1990s at the same time. Gwenno’s vocals are airy and ethereal and perfectly compliment that synth backing. It’s calming yet intense, relaxing yet pushing forward. And it’s so beautifully simple! There’s something almost folk song-like in the simplicity of the lyrics and melody: and the busy, glittering synths know when to pull back and let Gwenno’s voice shine through.
[8]

Micha Cavaseno: There’s a point where post-punk flecked pop tunes are the dreariest sort of slough to get through because the records are weighed down with a dull fatherly plunge of influence and statement, or a lack of desire to ever let the song upstage the sense of the singer/band. Gwenno, in having a goal of being uncompromising on another level, is more than generous, as her tunes have always had a whimsy and a spaciousness that allow one to hook their imagination in and hang onto the ride. “Ti Ha Mor” sounds like a good healthy midway point between The Chameleons, Strawberry Switchblade and Broadcast in drifting into that moment when your eyes lose sense of color and you have to step back and readjust. It’s a sense of daze that feels more timeless than more studious peers could ever hope for.
[7]