Like a breath of expensive air whispering in your ear American popsters Ivy’s 2011 album appeared in my library after I was eventually able to locate some of the bands work through the wonders of Apple Music.
See bands with un-googleable names like John Smith, Fridge, Albatross or Jam Roly Poly will only end up not reaching fans who live outside their popular frame. When I search Ivy on google, because it thinks I’m not interested in mostly unknown in the UK American artists, so instead I get pictures of the plant or reddit posts about a character from Batman or manga or somesuch rubbish. Such is the algorithm.
But then, with Apple Music, because it can see you have some of their other works, it goes “Here! Here are some other albums by the band. Maybe you might like to listen to them?” and I get happy. And I listen. And the whispering begins.
Of course, the band being virtually unknown in the UK means that I was unaware they had been on a hiatus since In The Clear , returning with this album. I was also unaware about the turbulence within the band that resulted in this being the last album for the band with this line up.
From it’s formation in 1994 when Andy Chase and Adam Schlesinger met singer Dominique Durand, to the first album release Realistic in 1995 with Apartment Life following in 1997. The band developed a very distinctive sound – a rich blend of husky French accents and dream-pop beats that brought the band right through to the glorious Long Distance (2000) and Guestroom (2002) years. By In the Clear (2005) they had begun to reach new shores, of course, this is when I found them and added them to my library but internal stresses and strains, the desire to develop side projects and a lack of promotion overseas meant they would fail to reach their potential audiences.
Their return in 2011 with All Hours was meant to be the cure for this malaise. The band really put their soul into the new songs, bringing the influences grown from their time apart into a beautiful blend of sound with catchy lyrics and, as I said, that distinctive feeling that something very expensive had whispered sexy things next to your ears. ASMR. But better.
Sadly the band split as conflicts grew under stress – Schlesinger and Chase’s studios were under financial pressure, the tour to promote the album didnt happen and basically Durand was left piggy in the middle trying to mediate. However, they did reconcile their differences and by February 2020, they where already back in discussions about making another album – until COVID19 claimed Schlesinger. Their most recent album Traces of You (2025) a clear tribute to the guy.
Fascinated by Ivy
Sources:
Available on
- Apple Music
- Amazon
- and probably Spottybotty if you want it badly enough
Gloomy collaborative music by Evo Watts’ music project This Mortal Coil.
Never really been a big fan of Radiohead, Creep and Paranoid Android were my limit. They were always one of those bands people told me that I “should like”. Like it was some edict from above. “You should like Radiohead”.
This is the Sugarplum Fairies’ fifth album following 
Like most teenagers, I was fortunate enough to be Bez to my old school friend, Mike’s band Jean Pierre O Malley & the Gieger-Muller Tubes. I attended most practice sessions (mostly on the promise of a few pints of beer afterwards) and I accepted that they would do cover versions of songs I didn’t really know.
Oh dear me. Scottish shoe-gazing shenanigans with the band’s 1990 release Heaven or Las Vegas.
This is the penultimate album from Benny and Sylvia’s Sugarplum Fairies (SPF).
When I said I liked the Cocteau Twins I should have clarified that I liked a couple of tracks. It’s just that when you mention you like a band you often get inundated with advice about which albums you “should” like.
Middle class wank mag, The Guide which is usually given away in Saturday’s Guardian, once said that Fur and Gold was the album must have for the noughties coffee table and that if you were to be taken seriously by your painfully middle class Land Rover dinner party guests you should put this album on the surround sound system and look hautily at ones guests when they contemptuously deny all knowledge of its existence. And thus the hipster was born.
For some reason, for years I thought the Cocteau Twins were a French band. Turned out Liz Fraser was just singing with a mouthful of gobstoppers or something.
Stegzy's Music Project 