It’s always a joy stumble across a musician who, in a short period of time, makes you wonder how you ever made it this far without them. One of these musicians is Durham’s Lucy Adlington. I
stumbled upon her music one afternoon while I was digging online for new music. At the time she’d just released the Mercury collaborative album with John Pope. I immediately bought up her back catalogue, her previous band Mondo Sadists and two releases with Mike Vest. I was taken away to a place where things sound sharp and broody but have a sensual side to them just below the surface. This is what drew me into Adlington’s world. The combination of abrasion and mercifulness. Adlington has now released a EP titled Ventricles.
The title comes from a section of the heart that collects and expels blood towards the peripheral beds within the body and lungs. This definition gives you a bit of an idea as to what to expect. However, if you think that Adlington has released an EP of tender love songs you are slightly wrong. Instead she has taken recordings of her actual heart and created pieces of music around them.
The EP opens with the sound of a heart pumping blood around the body. As ‘Annulus Ovalis’ continues electronic motifs start to encroach on the heart. There is a wonderful piece in the middle
where both rhythmic heart samples and the electronics are going at it at the same time. This creates a great juxtaposition of organic and inorganic. ‘Columnæ Carnæ ’ features a wonderful section
where it sounds like Adlington is trying to play her guitar in time with her heart. She isn’t just strumming in time, but coaxing some wonderful rhythms from the guitar. ‘Lachrymal’ is probably the
strongest track on the EP. Consisting mostly of static, it sounds like a fuzzy radio broadcast. At times you can hear the station coming in through the mist but it vanishes almost as quickly. It’s refreshing that the core of the song is hidden behind a veil. Rather than telling us what the point is we have to work it out for ourselves.
Ventricles is a different kind of release from Adlington. Usually, she blasts us with uncomfortable soundscapes. Searing feedback, or intricate acoustic guitars with delicate lyrics sung over the top.
Regardless of her mood the music is all consuming and offers no place for us to hide. On her Caravaggio EP the silence was almost deafening at times. Here, however, we are given something
else. The majority of the songs are built upon the sound of Adlington’s heart. How, and why, she made these recordings we have no idea, but she has them. Over, under and through these rhythmic
sounds Adlington layers glitchy electronics, piercing drones and static. It all ends in the same place. A ghastly sonic experience, but it’s refreshing to see her take a different route to get there. This EP is truly created from the heart.