So, it turns out that Savages are a pretty big deal. Mercury Prize nominations, top 20 albums, collaborations with big name rock stars – the UK indie trio are the kind of band who appeal to Millennials and their older sisters, while getting rave reviews in the mainstream press. They also put on a storming stage show.
All of that might have passed us by – in our normal, oblivious and contrarian way – were it not for the side project of Savages’ bass player, Ayşe Hassan. Kite Base, a collaboration with bassist and vocalist Kendra Frost, came onto our radar as the opening act for Hannah Peel. Let’s face it: there aren’t many dueling bass duos on the circuit these days, and they made speakers shake while Frost’s voice soared around the room with the richest resonance. They also had a deft drum machine called Alan.
A handful of videos followed, along with a glorious 7″ single, “Soothe/Dadum.” After they covered a Nine Inch Nails track, the legendary producer John Fryer got in touch to borrow Frost for his own project, Black Needle Noise. More live dates won Kite Base a following across the US and Europe.
As summer starts, the duo are able to reveal their debut album, Latent Whispers. Have there been whispers about latency? Is there a delay between the input of whispers and results? We don’t know where it comes from, but the title is part of a rather intricate package. From the Craig Ward logo to the fade-out of “Miracle Waves,” Latent Whispers is carefully wrought: nine songs on white vinyl, any of which could be a single. We are sorely pressed to try to choose between them.
There are other electronics carefully deployed to round out the sound, but Latent Whispers is a masterclass in rhythm. Below Frost’s vocals, beats and grooves intertwine. Alan does his best to keep time as accurately as Jaki Liebezeit, while Hassan plucks at the strings of a million hearts. It’s stripped down but complex; ethereal but earthy; post so much more than punk. A diamond in a rough year for music.
Kite Base on the Web: http://kiteba.se/

Like the brain, Hannah Peel’s latest release is divided into two halves. The first follows a poptastic pattern, filled with the folk-frosted, radio-friendly songs that make Peel one of the most compelling artists in Britain today. The other is an intensely personal set of adventurous material, raw to the touch and unnervingly beautiful. The neural pathway linking them is a track inspired by one of Italo Calvino’s postmodern stories.
The suffering of those living with dementia is mirrored by the pain of those close to them. Both sides are reflected in Peel’s material, starting with “Octavia,” a track named for one of Calvino’s cities which happens to be strung over an abyss. In a way reminiscent of Test Dept’s combinations of industrial rhythms and folk songs in Shoulder to Shoulder, “Octavia” pulses and shudders under an angelic chorus. The crackle of electricity and the grinding of gears are straight from Russolo’s musical manifesto on the art of noises, but in Peel’s hands signal empathy rather than aggression; they might be the sounds of urban activity or inner chaos.




Hannah Peel took the third position in CWNL’s Top 10 Songs of 2013, as we highlighted an excellent song from her Nailhouse EP. With the release of Fabricstate, a four-track EP, Peel is early off the mark to chart again this year.