At the moment all I’m hearing is slightly Brummified Surrey,
but having listened to Anika’s debut album all weekend,
a German accent was exactly what I was expecting – specifically of
the deep, smoky, Nico-esque variety.
Was the singing accent a choice? “I don’t know, sometimes I just can’t pronounce words,” she laughs “and when I sing I have a sort of German speech impediment.
I can’t help it; it’s not intentional at all. I over pronounced my words on the
record because I didn’t want to sound American, and I ended up
sounding really German.”
Don’t you just hate it when that happens? While it might seem peculiar to be analysing the way a singer pronounces things, it’s a key factor in the
draw of the record.
The precise, elegant articulation and measured emotion of Anika’s voice is utterly captivating, especially as it slices its way through a minefield of screaming guitars,
hip hop beats, acid synths and passing clouds of reverb that sound like they’ve been beamed down from outer space.
- OXFORD’S NAUTICAL ARCHAEOLOGY TEAM:
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- Brolin Flags Mixtape
The album is a collaboration between Anika and Bristol trio Beak>, and contains both original compositions and a strangely well-suited assortment
of cover versions, including songs by Yoko Ono and Bob Dylan.
“I really like 60’s music,” says Anika. “I’ve always liked garage rock. It was me, Billy [Fuller, Fuzz Against Junk] and Geoff [Barrow, Portishead] who
picked the songs.
We wanted to find really sickly sweet songs and mess with them as much as we could.”
Which they certainly did; their take on Brenda Lee’s ‘End Of The World’ is a sort of slow motion ode to the apocalypse, while Ray Davies’
‘I Go To Sleep’ sounds like a nightmarish carnival ride. “Even the love songs have turned into stalker songs,” she says evenly,
and there are plenty of politically motivated songs in there as well, such as ‘Masters Of War’, which might have seemed an obvious, almost lazy
but for the unfortunately timeless message of protest and outrage, which,
again, Anika’s voice conveys stunningly with its dignified anger and frankness,
backed only by a minimal beat and its own hollow echoes.
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