Spotlight

At the time of writing, over Forty-eight hours have passed since the news. The essays and tributes are still flooding in and here I am, still reading them. The reason why is that so many of these eulogies feel so personal and subjective; I’m not reading the same biographical details over and over. By and large, people are using Bowie to talk about themselves.

We’re both asked to sit down and write what images, sounds and memories come to mind when we think of David Bowie. The chances are we’ll both end up with a very different list. Here are some of things that might be on mine:

For me its buying a CD of Low when I was fourteen for £5 from Resident, hearing ‘Sound and Vision’ for the first time and feeling as electric as the blue coloured room he’s singing about. Years later, I’m watching the scene from The Man who Fell to Earth that the album cover is a still from. He’s standing at the end of a dock looking out onto the water, like Gatsby pining for Daisy’s green light.

It’s finding a list of his favourite books online whilst an English literature student, and being thrilled we both shared a penchant for Japanese author Yukio Mishima. A web of possibilities between different art forms is opening up, all pulling from and influencing each other.

It’s the howl of despair on ‘Word on a Wing’. He sounds like he’s been carved out, totally hollow and desperate for something to ignite feeling within him. He sings about “this age of grand illusion” and it sounds so baroque compared to any conception I have of the world. I’m beginning to realise music can just as strongly produce the sensation of absence as it can emotion. I’m beginning to finally articulate depression.

2015 was an outstanding year for music. Looking back I am amazed by the depth and breadth of quality releases. In no particular order, some of my favourites were Courtney Barnett’s Sometimes I Sit and Think, Sometimes I Just Sit, Half Moon Run’s The Sun Leads Me On, Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats self-title debut, Ezra Furman’s Perpetual Motion People, Everything Everything’s Get To Heaven, Wolf Alice’s My Love Is Cool. Sun Kil Moon’s Universal Themes, Sam Lee’s The Fade In Time, Nadine Shah’s Fast Food… the list is endless. What is striking is how many interesting characters there are making great music at the moment. I think we are in a golden era, thanks to these perosnalities who are combining a heightened individuality with a respect for music and its history. Unlimited access to the internet, and its bottomless pit of musical treasure has made this possible, and will only continue to do so. Not only that but as it becomes increasingly tough to make a living out of music, generally only those with a true musical beating heart and required grit will win out, like the above.

A 21st century European band, Daughter have become one of the great success stories of the 'twenty-tens'. Made up of a modest trio of musicians who came together at a music college, and hinging on the inspired and forthright lyricism of Elena Tonra, they have – like most great bands do – conjured up an original sound that oozes a passionate melancholy, a profound sadness that has the effect of uplifting the emotions, striking many-a-listener right in the heart. It's seductive heartbreak music, and modern in tone, structure and atmosphere. A little like Beth Gibbons and Portishead without the trip hop, and a bit like more contemporaneous acts such as London Grammar, Lanterns on the Lake and xx. But, like all the aforementioned, Daughter are strikingly original. It's why, for many, it was love at first hearing.

Fronted by the native Londoner of Irish-Italian descent Elena Tonra, Daughter formed in 2010 when Swiss-born guitarist Igor Haefeli became her musical and romantic partner, to be followed by drummer Remi Aguilella from France. With just two official EPs and one album under their belt, the three-piece have become somewhat of a cult phenomenon in a short space of time. And with the eagerly anticipated release of album number two, Not To Disappear, it looks like things can only get even better for a band that initially met while at a music college in London, with no real expectations beyond "making music together." It all really started with Elena dipping her toes in the open mic, singer-songwriter circuit, as a solo artist around 2009/10, singing her soulful, almost r'n'b inflected songs. "It didn’t suit me at all," she says. "As a musician, I’m self-taught and felt I was restricted by my abilities. I'm a pretty poor guitarist. If anyone saw me, technically…