Maki Asakawa
Maki Asakawa

Efficient Space: ...Three emotional years in the making, Be With and Efficient Space finally present Steve Hiett’s Girls In The Grass. Pressed alongside the long awaited reissue of his one-shot masterpiece Down On The Road By The Beach, these ten balearic soul instrumentals are of equal necessity; unrivalled beauty rescued from the fashion photographer-guitarist’s Paris Tapes (1986-1997).While recordings unintended for release should often be approached with caution, this is a rare case of unheard material being assembled as an indispensable and coherent piece. Girls In The Grass is something super special. The light and shadow that defines Hiett’s music is arguably more compelling here. It speaks to us in a language that feels profound, yet entirely comforting and familiar.Girls In The Grass reintroduces Hiett’s languid electric blues boogie, crafted on Saturday afternoons with fellow art director Simon Kentish. Kentish would cook, pour some wine and then utilise his arsenal of technology. He’d dial up a chugging rhythm, together with some ambient pads or keyboard textures, and anchor the weightless gauze of Hiett’s six-stringed touch.Hiett’s guitar sings with the same clean, crisp tone as Down On The Road, animated by a carefree weekend groove. Unlike his defining album which was boiled under pressure, these subsequent sessions have all the time in the world. The naïve melodies chart a missing link between Vini Reilly’s ventures into electronica and Booker T, sounding like sun-warped takes on wordless, fractured non-hits from his heroes The Beach Boys.Remastered for public pleasure by Simon Francis, these private moments are adorned with Hiett’s singular photography and feature typically idiosyncratic liner notes from Mikey IQ Jones.

Last Resort: ...One of life’s most difficult arts is learning to let go. You can try to cling to control in the face of a turbulent world, but the only constant we can count on is change—the tendrils of cleansing fire wiping away the old, new life springing forth from the dust and ash. So what’s the point? Give yourself over to the depths. Surrender to the flow.G.S. Schray’s new solo album The Changing Account is an appropriate soundtrack for learning to cope with a world we can’t count on. Each piece is full of elliptical melodies that swirl with the unstable logic of dreams. Flurries of piano, guitar lines, and other more alien instrumentation shimmer delicately, but before they coalesce into familiar shapes or rhythms they change, then change, then change again. Listening is a bit like falling asleep on a long road—with each passing song you’re waking up somewhere new, trying to get your bearings in another strange world. How did I get here? Where are we going? It doesn’t matter. Close your eyes, drift away again.