New Zealand-based artist Lukas Mayo has sought out the magic in the mundane for their latest album, Laundromat. Mayo crafts an engaging lo-fi bedroom pop sound that has drawn parallels with Sufjan Stevens, Grandaddy and Youth Lagoon among others. After the more elevated, cleaner sound of their previous albums, Mayo was keen to return to their musical roots in order to produce an album of songs that they were happy with. Here’s what Mayo has to say on that very subject.
“I felt that I couldn’t just follow my instincts anymore, I wanted to return to how I made music right at the very start. For it to be a daily practice I have to focus on what it is that I enjoy about it, I became really excited to make music for myself again––to just enjoy making music again.”
With a lot of the songs on the album clocking in at under two minutes it’s obvious Mayo has enjoyed not only the musicality of this process but also defining how long (or short) a good song can be.
All that said let’s drop the needle on this one and get exploring.
The album opens on the childlike lullaby of ‘Early Geometry’. The simple melody and stripped back instrumentation set the scene nicely for us. No chorus or verse is identifiable. This is simply a songwriter pouring their heart out into the music and letting it fall as it may.
That form continues into ‘In Good Health’. The opening gambit of “The last time you said I was wrong to bend my life around a song. I climbed inside a Higgs boson to cry” is just inspired writing. The melody perfectly encompassing the break up story, like an elongated haiku.
‘King of Joy’ is described as an introduction in reverse. It has that tick tock meter of a Postal Service song and evolves over its short run time into driven, chiming masterpiece.
The first of two lengthier tracks follows. ‘Head Terrarium’ is a song of two halves. It opens on a gentle stroll of a verse. The writers inner monologue laid bare in the lyrics. It’s only in the second half where we get to the root of our narrators’ insecurities. “Well, I’m not as pretty as I like. No, I’m not brilliant as I like”. Instantly identifiable and hugely engaging through its melodic joyous delivery.
‘Choruses’ is a conversation with a “Jonny”, an artist who writes enviable choruses. The effected vocal playing off the gently plucked banjo is a delight to listen to.
The conscious brevity continues with the bite sized ‘Computer Repair’. The tale of receiving a link to some online content with riveting comments beneath. Again, the banjo picks out the melody with stabbed strums accenting the changes. All whilst a wonderfully wonky keyboard motif wobbles away in the background.
It’s the turn of the title track next. The first hook of the album presents itself and, in that moment, you realise just how alien that concept feels. We’re now at the halfway point and Mayo is changing things up, introducing a new texture in a more distorted guitar (I think). But it is the song structure itself which marks this transition point. Up until now we have eschewed all form and pre conceived ideas, and got lost in it. This is so clever. It’s like they are saying, remember this is what you think a song should be like.
Which makes ‘Marcie’ all the more beautiful and special. The microcosm of the girl’s life encapsulated in these precious seconds. The musical accompaniment slightly baroque and perfectly sympathetic to the subject matter.
An ebullient and upbeat instrumental follows in ‘Kinds of Love’. It’s layered with a voice memo from Mayo’s friend Bedbug and coaxes a wry smile from the listener. I like to leave long messages for my friends too and can totally identify here.
The second of our longer form tracks arrives in the shape of ‘Invercargill Hotel’. In this song Mayo opts once again for that clockwork rhythm which is so affecting and effective in its role at moving the story along. I defy anyone not to well up when Mayo, in a moment of complete selflessness sings “I hope he makes you feel at home”. The flatline tone signalling the end of that relationship and the song.
‘Scared’ relaying that moment when our narrator loses their voice and “Can’t feel it in my throat”. For a performer that would be a scary moment and this artist just knew that capturing that emotion in a song would work.
The album closes on the second instrumental of the album. ‘More Kinds of Love’ is a fitting adieu. It’s structured like a fond farewell and features another voice memo, this time from Tony Stamp. It’s measured cadence and rhythm send us on our way sated and, if you are anything like me, back to the start of this wonderful album to listen again.
In Laundromat Mayo has created a collection of songs that draw the meaning and emotion from the minutiae. Songs now feels like a redundant term actually. We need a new word to describe what we have just experienced. This insight they have afforded us into their head and heart is both touching and uplifting and I feel much richer as a person for listening to it. This feels like it could change things. Let it change you.
Laundromat is out on 16th June 2023 on Father/Daughter Records. There are a couple of lovely vinyl variants to choose from as well as CD, cassette and digital options. You also find it over on the Pickle Darling Bandcamp page.
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