Thursday 14 December 2017


One of our favourite tracks of 2017 so far now and yeah that's 100% sincere and it's this track by South Wales trio Niterooms. What makes it so interesting? Well, there it isn't just the atmosphere of the track—that in itself is intriguing, a swirl of a picture so melancholy so swooning sad, but at the same time so interestingly done, so nuanced, that it cannot be called simply sad but needs to be addressed for its tight and stylistic attention to detail. The drums tap and tick, thump and thud with all the laid-back authority that trap-infused percussion commands, helped into a realm of oozing monochrome and disappointment by fantasy guitar that twangs and resonates all liquid oblivion. The basic effective dynamic achieved by removing the hi-hats and letting the beat click naked in a tide of sub, the structural ease of it calms the spirit, nothing to remember, nothing to challenge, only a story to hear, a painting to be engulfed in.

Niterooms are from Brithdir, "a small forgotten mining town in South Wales," and fittingly their music sounds like that of something forgotten, something discarded, something glittering and vital left at the bottom of an empty well, the tatters of a dream now whipped into some semblance of being by sheer emotive energy. Whilst a "band" they manage to create the same soundscapes that you'd hear in Drakean pop, that sort of post-R&B trap-flavoured sound with confessional lyrics, a candid soul laid bare in the whirls of something dreamy and unreal. The vocals croon low on the brink of despair and in various meters, quick triplets mixed in with slow lines. A clear lament of lost love, sorrow as old as time, like the story of Orpheus that moved even ghosts as he ventured to find his wife in the Underworld.

Niterooms Internet Presence ☟

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