Sarah Nixey - Sing, Memory (c) 2007 ServiceAV
Artist....: Sarah Nixey
Album.....: Sing, Memory
Type......: Album
Source....: CDDA
Tracks....: 15
Genre.....: Electronic
Label.....: ServiceAV
Catalogue#: FIGMENT007
Encoder...: LAME 3.97
Quality...: VBR kbps / 44.1KHz / Joint-Stereo
URL.......: http://www.sarahnixey.com
Tracklist:
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01 Sing (Prelude) 00:56
02 When I'm Here With You 03:54
03 Beautiful Oblivion 04:48
04 Strangelove (Sing Version) 04:03
05 Hotel Room 04:28
06 Nothing On Earth 03:53
07 Nightshift 04:08
08 Memory (Prelude) 00:50
09 The Collector 04:14
10 Breathe In, Fade Out 03:58
11 Endless Circles 04:28
12 The Man I Knew 04:27
13 Masquerade 03:15
14 Love And Exile 04:41
15 The Black Hit Of Space 03:44
Total:79,4 MB / 55:47 min
Release Notes:
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Sarah Nixey made her show business entrance as one third of the darkly
glamorous pop group Black Box Recorder. She was in the severe, dreamy
centre, singing scheming songs that were deadly serious about trivia,
and deeply frivolous about important matters, acting out her role as
interpreter and enigma with subversive attention to detail. She sang
the songs as if they were bruised lullabies, as if she was soothing the
20th Century to sleep, as if she was a friend of Alice in Wonderland
and Sylvia Plath who was quite partial to the Pet Shop Boys and
Francoise Hardy.
Black Box Recorder were like an entertainment equivalent of those
television programmes in the 60s with names like The Avengers, The
Champions, The Persuaders, The Adventurer. They could have been called
The Thinkers, or The Absurdists, or The Strangers. Each of their songs
was a part of a series that told the fantastic abstract story of how,
somehow, the group maintained the stability of the world, and kept evil
at bay even though they themselves were somewhat fascinated by evil.
Black Box Recorder made an appearance on BBC 1's Top of the Pops that
goes down in history as one of those moments when the point of pop, as
total surprise, as a transforming invasion of our ordinary waking
hours, was absolutely confirmed. The three of them appeared on a family
television show as if they had just been thawed after centuries of
suspended animation, or as if they were just about to be frozen, as if
this was their last act as near human entertainers. They sang a song
about death or happiness or both as if they wanted to make it clear
that for them pop music was just as likely to be fabulous as it was to
be stupid. They looked like they didn't belong at all on the programme,
except they made a sound, and moved around, like they should be on the
programme at least once a month.
Sarah is now solo, having had her group moment, her hits inside a
deadpan parody of a pop group. Her flash, exotically electric singles
The Collector and Strangelove were like manifestos proclaiming that
she's as committed to the idea of pop as a dream, a fantasy, as she had
been in Black Box Recorder, but this time the surreal edge, the
emotional pressure, the deviant intensity is all her own.
She sings smart pop songs. They tell heady, half-crazed stories about
minds and bodies, flesh and spirit, memories and illusions, desperation
and passion. They're theme tunes to far fetched adventures, songs that
play over the credit sequences to imaginary Bond films as written by
Kafka, Ballard, Nabokov, Atwood. They will be hits, but not obvious
hits, not everyday hits. She sings them on her forthcoming album Sing,
Memory with that tough, tender combination of explicit English
detachment and cryptic European emotion that's all her own. :)