Jeff T Byrd - Nighty Night
Nighty Night
Jeff T Byrd
December 23, 2021
December 23, 2021
December 16, 2021
December 6, 2021
December 1, 2021
November 11, 2021
November 2, 2021
October 26, 2021
October 20, 2021
September 13, 2021
August 1, 2021
July 10, 2021
June 30, 2021
March 25, 2019
March 25, 2019
May 9, 2019
May 10, 2019
May 13, 2019
May 28, 2019
May 29, 2019
June 11, 2019
June 24, 2019
June 25, 2019
June 27, 2019
July 2, 2019
July 2, 2019
July 12, 2019
July 30, 2019
August 8, 2019
August 23, 2019
August 29, 2019
September 5, 2019
September 10, 2019
September 20, 2019
September 24, 2019
September 30, 2019
October 4, 2019
October 9, 2019
October 10, 2019
October 12, 2019
October 14, 2019
October 14, 2019
October 26, 2019
October 30, 2019
November 4, 2019
November 5, 2019
November 6, 2019
November 11, 2019
November 20, 2019
November 25, 2019
November 27, 2019
December 2, 2019
December 5, 2019
December 20, 2019
December 21, 2019
December 24, 2019
January 7, 2020
January 10, 2020
January 17, 2020
January 19, 2020
January 22, 2020
January 23, 2020
January 31, 2020
February 4, 2020
February 7, 2020
February 17, 2020
February 19, 2020
February 20, 2020
February 29, 2020
March 7, 2020
March 12, 2020
March 13, 2020
March 15, 2020
March 20, 2020
March 20, 2020
March 20, 2020
March 24, 2020
March 27, 2020
March 29, 2020
March 31, 2020
April 6, 2020
April 13, 2020
April 13, 2020
April 18, 2020
April 23, 2020
April 24, 2020
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020
May 5, 2020
May 6, 2020
May 7, 2020
Liam Murphy
December 31, 2020
Tracks in this feature
Tracks in this release
A voice whispers through decaying remnants of glitched sound. A synth makes its way slowly toward the top of the mix, met with strange wooden and metallic impacts, as the voice speaks of an embrace in a weighted and calculated manner. The atmosphere is an uncertain one. Rather than offering a guide rope for the melody and voice, the percussion seems to happen in reaction to the reverberation of sound. It is akin to droplets of water from slowly melting ice, it comes sporadically and without warning. The synth reaches a heated climax, glowing with energy as more melodic vocals begin to seep in. The main voice stays stalwart, whispering words and phrases amidst the sudden whirlwind of singing. Next, the voice exchanges lines with a defunct and short circuited mimic, a babyish voice aping the words back in an innocent tone. There is an austere feeling emanating from everything. The singer communicates a lack of self worth through the words, this theme summed up perfectly in the song’s title ‘thank you for your time’. The focus is on the other person, as if the singer should feel lucky that they could steal an iota of time or affection away from someone else. Though the atmosphere is grand and serious, the listener feels as though the singer is placed in an inferior position to their subject. With the admission ‘I wanted this’, the already leaky dam collapses. Heavy bass drums begin to pound, a torrent of distorted voices career toward the listener. Snippets of melody begin to get caught up in random sequences, as if the remnants of the entity are desperately trying to piece themselves back together.
The lead single from Leucrocuta’s forthcoming EP presents the idea of waste as its main subject. Not only does the singer feel themselves to be a surplus aspect of someone’s life, the instrumentation feels like it is a hybrid of wasted parts. The percussion leaks and spurts out randomly, the synth flickers and hums like an old heater. The three aspects of thank you for your time feel quite distant from each other, but there are moments of real intense synergy exacerbated by icy silences and an indifferent atmosphere.