Photo: @claredeloon
Influences can be tricky, in that all music is based on what came before it, but hollow imitation is easy to hear. Even the most cursory listener will tend to spot a fraud.
Local musician Hemi Hemingway makes it clear that he’s inspired by the music of the 50s and 60s, and that’s apparent when listening to his debut. But there’s so much more going on here; so much soul in the dirty, desperate sonic world he’s created, that those forebears soon become an afterthought.
The saxophone that appears midway through that song is a welcome surprise; it fits perfectly, mixed similarly to the waves of crashing guitar, which part for a blistering solo. Everything feels appropriately dank, and when Hemingway fires up a lead you worry he might burn through your speakers.
That title ‘Now That You Know (We Can’t Pretend You Don’t)’, features a nicely evocative use of brackets. Another song pulls a similar trick, called ‘It’s So Cruel (Lovin’ You)’.
That song features another expertly deployed saxophone line, courtesy of Lily Shaw, the only musician other than Hemi Hemingway (real name Shaun Blackwell), to appear on the album.
The evocation of 60s pop is so strong you might miss the presence of a drum machine and arpeggiated synth. Even the apostrophe on ‘Lovin’’ feels in character.
Near the end of the track he wails “I don’t know why I try getting you off my mind”, a sentiment that’s presented more optimistically in the similarly apostrophed ‘Dreamin’ of You’.
On that track Blackwell sings a similar melody across three octaves, dipping in and out of falsetto for good measure. When he reaches the top of his register it’s usually to deliver the most anguished lyrics.
After spending time in the UK he’s moved back to Aotearoa - the album began in Hackney and was completed in the North Island - and amongst the love and loss there are thoughts about being a Māori man returning home.
The cover art has him casting a shadow across a New Zealand shore, and on ‘January Lake #3’, he sings in te reo.
The mix of old and new on Strangers Again never feels forced, and while the big reverbs and murky aesthetic are very intentional, these songs would stand strong in any context. Along with his soulful pipes, it’s Hemi Hemingway’s knack at investing familiar forms with modern zeal that makes this album really soar.
