
ULLA - Hometown Girl LP
Groggy, engrossing new work from Ulla under their newly minted U.e. tag, riffing to the sublime on a set of (mostly) acoustic reveries that tap into the kind of smokey vapours favoured by the likes of Vincent Gallo, Voice Actor, Jonnine. Oh aye, itâs a special one.
A new year, label, album and handle for Ulla, a multifaceted artist who has draped our pages with wonder, under numerous aliases and collabs, for almost a decade. On âHometown Girlâ they distill transience and flux into a quiet set of chamber works subtly resembling the room recorded nuance of their âJazz Platesâ side with Perila - here taken a step further into more elusive, low-lit dimensions.
In a mode thatâs wistful and melancholic, listening to the albumâs dozen discrete pieces feels like leafing thru a journal of hand-written notes, reflecting on the feelings that come with separation from loved ones and displacement from familiarity. Ulla performed and recorded all of the instruments themselves, lending a tangible tactility to layered arrangements of woodwind, keys, strings, drums and voice, lightly speckled with electronics and perfused with open window field recordings.Â
They locate a crackling frisson of personality in the voice notes and day-dreaminess of their mottled inscapes, gauzily demarcating lines between past and present selves. In that aesthetic and approach we can also hear similarities to Jonnineâs blue-skied âSouthside Girlâ or crys coleâs poetic sensuality, often leaning into the domestic surreal.
A frayed, opening salutation âGood Morningâ signals a delirious half hour in Ullaâs company, variously swaying to the downstroked jazz swing of a âLavender (NF)â spritzed with clarinet, whilst âFroggy Explorerâ stirs the air like Jan Jelinek on a barely-there tip. The Basinski-esque fritz of degraded loops really snags the imagination along with a twinkling nightlight âBallâ, as the album opens out into its most fully resolved songs with a closing couplet of disarming wonders âDrawing of Meâ, and a blurry âMuteâ that feels like Ulla ăalmostă reveals too much before retreating back into the shadows.
Groggy, engrossing new work from Ulla under their newly minted U.e. tag, riffing to the sublime on a set of (mostly) acoustic reveries that tap into the kind of smokey vapours favoured by the likes of Vincent Gallo, Voice Actor, Jonnine. Oh aye, itâs a special one.
A new year, label, album and handle for Ulla, a multifaceted artist who has draped our pages with wonder, under numerous aliases and collabs, for almost a decade. On âHometown Girlâ they distill transience and flux into a quiet set of chamber works subtly resembling the room recorded nuance of their âJazz Platesâ side with Perila - here taken a step further into more elusive, low-lit dimensions.
In a mode thatâs wistful and melancholic, listening to the albumâs dozen discrete pieces feels like leafing thru a journal of hand-written notes, reflecting on the feelings that come with separation from loved ones and displacement from familiarity. Ulla performed and recorded all of the instruments themselves, lending a tangible tactility to layered arrangements of woodwind, keys, strings, drums and voice, lightly speckled with electronics and perfused with open window field recordings.Â
They locate a crackling frisson of personality in the voice notes and day-dreaminess of their mottled inscapes, gauzily demarcating lines between past and present selves. In that aesthetic and approach we can also hear similarities to Jonnineâs blue-skied âSouthside Girlâ or crys coleâs poetic sensuality, often leaning into the domestic surreal.
A frayed, opening salutation âGood Morningâ signals a delirious half hour in Ullaâs company, variously swaying to the downstroked jazz swing of a âLavender (NF)â spritzed with clarinet, whilst âFroggy Explorerâ stirs the air like Jan Jelinek on a barely-there tip. The Basinski-esque fritz of degraded loops really snags the imagination along with a twinkling nightlight âBallâ, as the album opens out into its most fully resolved songs with a closing couplet of disarming wonders âDrawing of Meâ, and a blurry âMuteâ that feels like Ulla ăalmostă reveals too much before retreating back into the shadows.
Original: $40.52
-70%$40.52
$12.16Description
Groggy, engrossing new work from Ulla under their newly minted U.e. tag, riffing to the sublime on a set of (mostly) acoustic reveries that tap into the kind of smokey vapours favoured by the likes of Vincent Gallo, Voice Actor, Jonnine. Oh aye, itâs a special one.
A new year, label, album and handle for Ulla, a multifaceted artist who has draped our pages with wonder, under numerous aliases and collabs, for almost a decade. On âHometown Girlâ they distill transience and flux into a quiet set of chamber works subtly resembling the room recorded nuance of their âJazz Platesâ side with Perila - here taken a step further into more elusive, low-lit dimensions.
In a mode thatâs wistful and melancholic, listening to the albumâs dozen discrete pieces feels like leafing thru a journal of hand-written notes, reflecting on the feelings that come with separation from loved ones and displacement from familiarity. Ulla performed and recorded all of the instruments themselves, lending a tangible tactility to layered arrangements of woodwind, keys, strings, drums and voice, lightly speckled with electronics and perfused with open window field recordings.Â
They locate a crackling frisson of personality in the voice notes and day-dreaminess of their mottled inscapes, gauzily demarcating lines between past and present selves. In that aesthetic and approach we can also hear similarities to Jonnineâs blue-skied âSouthside Girlâ or crys coleâs poetic sensuality, often leaning into the domestic surreal.
A frayed, opening salutation âGood Morningâ signals a delirious half hour in Ullaâs company, variously swaying to the downstroked jazz swing of a âLavender (NF)â spritzed with clarinet, whilst âFroggy Explorerâ stirs the air like Jan Jelinek on a barely-there tip. The Basinski-esque fritz of degraded loops really snags the imagination along with a twinkling nightlight âBallâ, as the album opens out into its most fully resolved songs with a closing couplet of disarming wonders âDrawing of Meâ, and a blurry âMuteâ that feels like Ulla ăalmostă reveals too much before retreating back into the shadows.











