Two people, ten guest musicians, a haunt of instruments, and an album of subtle beauty. August and After, also known as Ned Mortimer and Vedantha Kumar, release Embers, an album with a title well chosen, its beauty lying in its gentle flickering rather than any brash roar. Music of a vespertine air, as the day closes and house lights start to dim.
Opener Halley explores a journey, the growth of a life and the two people sharing it together, one of many stories in song form of past experiences. Woven between the lines of all the songs on this album these personal reflections and explorations are so welcoming that they create the feeling that not only are you enveloped in the fabric of the songs, feeling every emotion, but there is nowhere else that you would rather be.
Gleam Behind The Ghosts is given a body of its own in the wholesome string section, and the aching pathos of Waltz For Marie is the how all stories should sound. A quivering guitar on Salamander slowly nullifies any angst, beautifully enunciated diction of lyrics such as ‘apples cling to stratospheres’ in The Orchard add to the variegated beauty within this set of songs, and personal favourite The Jailbreak Song bounces off its boundaries, flexing muscles in a sparse space, fans contributing the foreign spoken word.
A rich tapestry of sounds, each of varying thickness and complexity, all added to a band of aural excellence. It’s hard not to believe that each sound on this record has been nurtured and grown with love and reverence. Art fans to the core, their live performances are a visual experience, and the duo have a series of collaborative film projects scheduled for the summer, including two animations, a contemporary dance video with the UCL dance society and Tripos Productions, a video project with the London School of and have created an independent art platform, whereby fans and artists submit their art as an accompaniment to the songs.
Celebrate their album launch on June 14th at The Islington.

An evening of entertainment, all to celebrate the launch of a special EP. Sunday evenings, especially those spent in the sun, can result in something of a lethargic mood. Could Eiko, Drew Worthley and Kirsty Merryn all excite The Islington on this evening organised as part of the Massive Arms collective? In a corner of the north London pub, decked out in sumptuous red, a la boudoir, we gathered to find out.
Caressing her tiny guitar, seemingly designed for such an elfin figure, Eiko Itoh played her soothing sounds in a crisp and clear manner, delivery charming and disarming. Muted musings and wistful and gentle swirls, she manages to captivate and charm. Slow yet never plodding, the what are quite frankly long songs engaged and enchanted, Morsel of Love being a particular highlight, its layers mingling and melting into one another, and Red Shoes, an ode to footwear of the colour raising a smile.

Despite his set being formed of being predominantly sad songs, as Drew Worthley apologised for, the performance had one and all smiling. His art may have evolved as a form of self therapy and catharsis, but, like hopefully the demons that needed to be exorcised, this has faded to the back ground of the beautiful and inspired poetry performed. Like when making plans for June in January, even the most morbid subject matter is a warm and welcoming light. I hate using the word singer songwriter, as it is so non descript. And Drew doesn’t have a beard, so the conjured image as a result of this noun would be inaccurate. What you can be assured of with Drew Worthley is that he is something of a gem amid a sea of mediocrity. Perpetually engrossing his shows manage to mute the mind and focus it on the songcraft, a rare talent. His debut album The Ember was showcased in its glory, as well as a few expert covers.

Usually less a fan of keys, preferring strings, I admit that a small part of me sinks when I see a keyboard. Yes, I am unfairly judgmental. Kirsty Merryn did some great work in challenging this, although having already fallen in love with her EP I had the feeling she may do so. With sounds that gently probe inner most feelings, her performance triggered the sort of delightful suspire that only the truly relaxed can do. Eidetic lyrics and robust tunes, all communicated by dextrous fingers and eyes that smile. Clockwork was intricate and immediately executed, and the beautiful Love In A City Room a lovely ode to the mundane reality of true love. For all their strong sentiment and upheld sentiment, you get the feeling that behind these songs lie unseen giggles – even on the less positive but wholly accurate Some Kind Of Dickery.
This is something that united all three of tonight’s performers. Music as a way to navigate life’s delights and frights, uniquely channeled into sonic atmospheres that suggest a strength and confidence in the notes they perform. A Sunday evening well spent, all gathered in massive arms and a warm glow. Kirsty’s EP is available here.

Photography by Adam Bakti and Pete Ellis.