“We built this bridge as big as Brooklyn, it’s gonna burn…”
Here’s an adorable way to start your Tuesday: meet Kate Martin, a sweet-voiced and softly-spoken singer-songwriter all the way from Townsville in Queensland, Australia. And before I hear any groaning or complaining from up the back there, I’d like to point out that Kate is different to your average Julia Stone wannabe. There’s depth to this sound, an ethereal nature that arises somewhere in the ghostly harmonies and the melodies that are nigh-on impossible to get out of one’s head. Point is, I really like her. And I want to share her with you lot.
This gorgeous clip is shot in countryside Victoria. It’s not so much what happens in this video, but where and how. The video is essentially Martin and her band, The Shallow Sea Choir, driving along, playing in a field, discovering an abandoned house and sitting on a blanket on the grass. Fairly innocuous stuff, really – so it’s all in the gorgeous locations (where) and the warmth between the band members (how) that makes this such an utterly charming clip.
Somebody please whoop me upside the head if this lady makes it to Sydney and I miss out.
“And there’s nothing you can do about it now…”
Sometimes a song and video can hit you at the exact same time, as some kind of freakish double whammy. Experiencing “Blood” by Queensland sextet The Middle East on late night music television is a brilliant example of said whammy. On its own, we’re dealing with one of the greatest Australian songs of the past ten years – a slow-burning folk song with heart-on-sleeve honesty and an orchestral climax that is second to none. With the video, however, it gives an insight to the song with a perspective you might not have thought of before – another key to a truly great music video.
The video is made up entirely of animated stills that are gorgeously drawn, with the movements between them slight and quickly paced. As the story weaves its way around the beautiful music, it tells a tale of love, loss, self-exploration and what the future might hold. There’s not a second where your interest wanes – it’s simply a spectacle of understated film-making. It’s not trying to force the emotion directly into you, as so many commercially-oriented bands try to do in their videos. It’s just storytelling in its purest form – and something you should really experience.