The Pop Corporation

There’s few joys in life that are nicer than tripping over an album completely by chance and finding that it’s an absolute romp of toytown psychedelic and glorious shed pop!

While acid-songwriters in the pomp of the ’60s had huge studios, endless tape and orchestras, since then, things have retreated and paired down. The ambition in the songwriting and playfulness is still there, but the budget got smaller and we’ve ended up with a little independent cottage industry of songwriters and producers who have been beavering away in god knows where, and releasing these joyous trinkets to the world.

And so, to Nick Waters’ ‘Wither’ which we’re pleased to tell you is a gleaming DIY gem that touches on so many great things from the past and present. From ‘Ram’ era McCartney and Emitt Rhodes, to echoes of Elliot Smith, Margo Guryan, Brian Wilson, and newer artists like Paul Cherry, The Junipers, and Pearl & The Oysters, there’s a lot to love here for fans of expansive power pop, inventive singer-songwriter action and sonic wizardry.

Basically, if you’re looking for the kind of pop music that gathers up a whole record collection’s worth of baroque, popsike, chamber pop and the rest, mixed with some modern twists, then Nick Waters’ new album is absolutely the album for you.

The album kicks off with the magic ‘Windy Blue’ which sets the tone for the rest of the songs. It’s charming, it’s fun and lighter than air – however, there’s a starkness to it that suggests an unease, making everything feel bittersweet, which ends up making it all so compelling.

The wide-eyed wonder is met with an introspection, so the soundscape of the album as a whole seeps into each song like cigarette smoke in a reliable armchair. On the surface, it’s gorgeous melodies and neat tricks, but scratch the surface and there’s a melancholy that should have you giving ‘Wither’ repeat plays.

This is far from a facsimile of things that have gone before – there’s synths that wibble, drums that go clunk in the night and enough modernity to stop things falling into cosplay territory. Sure, it’s a psychedelic album, but it’s got enough current touchstones that listeners from all walks of the record shop can prick an ear to.

It’s an emotional listen, but it’s also a completely nourishing one too. For example, on the brilliant ‘Iridescent Gloom’, there’s absolutely no way you’d hear it and wonder if it came from the ’60s or ’70s – but the whirrs of nostalgia come from dusty old gear rather than impersonating old records. Classic songwriting, but with 2024 circuit scramblings.

The whole thing is put together so wonderfully and it really sounds like a labour of love, with such carefulness teaming up with a kind of off-handedness that is incredibly difficult to achieve.

Details on Waters are a bit thin on the ground, so we can’t speak much of his background. What we can say is that this is one of the finest debut albums you’re likely to hear and you get the impression that this is going to be one of those pocket masterpieces that will be raved about by those fortunate enough to stumble into it.

It’s Bandcamp and Spotify only at the moment, but you can imagine this being very at home on a small vinyl or cassette run. The homespun charm of the whole suite of songs and excerpts feel like they’ve already been cut to record and should be idly spinning in your Hi FI nook. It’s a gorgeous album full of yearning, introspection, hooks and oddball turns.

Perfect pop. Don’t miss out.