Wild Nothing

Jack Tatum’s sophomore release under the moniker Wild Nothing continues with the blissed out nostalgic summer sounds of its 2010 predecessor ‘Gemini’.

As a concept, both record and music recall a hazy retro pop, with Tatum’s desire to compose something embodying his vision of an ideal pop sound,Wild Nothing reminiscent of

what pop used to be, summed up over the eleven tracks and their careful treading of the shoegaze and dream pop genres.

While distinctive, wispy vocals are held low in the mix, Wild Nothing allowing neither this nor the kaleidoscopic colour of instruments to intrude on one another,

the tracks flow so seamlessly it is a feat to pick out their respective

beginnings and endings. Punchy,

string laden opener ‘Shadow’ is the standout,

with ‘80s synths on ‘Paradise’ cutting an easybreezy slice of perfected pop listening. Initially a background listen,

this is a complexly constructed follow up, the live version of which is likely to shine brighter than its recording.

We continue walking through the gardens at Kilmainham, past neat box hedges and topiary, and through a formal space that was once used as a physic garden for the Hospital,


with variegated medicinal herbs and apple trees. At the foot of the gardens is a colossal statue of a rabbit beating a Bodhrán,

while the obelisk monument The Wellington Testimonial – amid all its historical significance

thought also to be the giant’s penis in James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake looms overhead.

We run into Carlos’s housemate, who went to an installation inside the IMMA recently that was meant to provoke anxiety and unease;

it was just a few desks and chairs sitting with as much artistic acuity as an office block at the end of a working day.

The giant’s penis did it for me.

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