FEATURE:
Modern Heroines
Part Twelve: Cate Le Bon
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ONE reason why I wanted to include Cate Le Bon…
in my Modern Heroines feature is because she has come an awful long way since her debut album, Me Oh My, in 2009. I am not going to cover her E.P.s – she has released a few -, and I am going to run through her albums and see how she has evolved; how critics have really warmed to what she is doing. Before I start with her debut album, it is worth providing some background to Cate Le Bon. Born in Carmarthenshire, Wales, Le Bon first captured public focus when she supported Gruff Rhys on his 2007 solo U.K. tour. Le Bon put out her debut in 2009 but she appeared on a couple of other artists’ songs prior to that – including a spot on Neon Neon’s I Lust U in 2008. It is no surprise she has turned heads, given that there were not many artists like her back then; there still aren’t if we are being honest about it! Also, in 2008, Le Bon released the E.P., Edrych yn Llygaid Ceffyl Benthyg. That is a Welsh-language E.P. and, again, there were few artists putting out music in Welsh. Now, there are acts like Gwenno and Adwaith, but it was quite rare in 2008. I think Le Bon interested people earlier on because, even though she has a Folk vibe, she did not follow others or employ obvious influences. She could throw in odd riffs and quirky vocals with the air of suspects.
All of her tics and qualities mixed might see off-putting, but Cate Le Bon makes one feel warm and comforted. Le Bon crafted her own style from the off, showing how you can be unique and still resonate. Her guitar playing, vocals and lyrics were very much her own; they have strengthened through the years, yet nobody could mistake Cate Le Bon for anyone else in 2009. This year, mind, has been a hugely successful one for Le Bon. She was nominated for the Mercury Prize and Welsh Music Prize for Reward – more on that later – and, whilst she won neither, she has won a huge wave of respect and interest from the fans and press. I think Reward is one of the best albums of this year and makes you wonder where she will head next. I think Le Bon, in years to come, will be seen as this innovator and hugely influential artist who helped break down barriers. Le Bon has certainly help bring Welsh music to the fore, and she has inspired so many other artists, not just musically, but how she approaches life and how she has owned her career. Although Le Bon is reaching a peak now, there were some who were not sure what to make of her in 2009. Me Oh My was brought out to some acclaim and, although her E.P. of 2008 featured Welsh lyrics, there was far less of it to be heard on her debut studio album.
Maybe she felt she might alienate critics or Me Oh My would be reserved to only a few listeners. I can understand why she didn’t want to gamble early on and, although there were some mixed reviews, many had a lot of positive things to say. Here is The Line of Best Fit’s assessment:
“Le Bon’s haunting ethereal voice accompany crisp guitar strums, which build with reverb until the futuristic synths kick in compelling me for the second time in a week to make a comparison to The Velvet Underground and Nico. Following track Sad Sad Feet is beautifully elegant as stripped back acoustic instrumentals set the scene for Le Bon’s wistful, eerie, multi-layered vocals. Highlight Hollow Tress House Hounds is more rock than folk with a catchy electric hook that is set to loop as Le Bon’s eccentric lyrics soar high above the base line. And the best way I can think of describing strikingly mysterious and melancholic keyboard led Eyes So Bright is to just say that it belongs in a Wes Anderson film. In fact the same could be said for Burn Until The End as Le Bon’s half sung, half spoken lyrics sounds sinister over the upbeat, rolling acoustic guitar. Probably one of my favourite tracks on the record, it begins unmistakably as an abstract, art-folk number until the drums and electric guitar riff kicks in and we are reminded of this 60s garage rock vibe that Le Bon carries throughout the album. Largely understated instrumentally, Le Bon’s earthy vocals and that twinge of sadness keep Me Oh My a diverse and intriguing listen as do the sporadic burst of energetic electrics and drums”.
Between Me Oh My and her second album, Cyrk, Le Bon left a three-year gap. She would bring us her third album in 2013, but she would then leave another three years between her remaining two albums. Some might ask why there was quite a pause between albums, but there is this great pressure to release albums quickly. I think artists are viewed as irrelevant or absent if they do not follow up an album with another after a year. It is a problem that plagues Pop artists more than anyone else, but Le Bon must have felt some pressure to get a second album not long after her debut. Rather than rush a release, Cyrk is a record that strengthens her sound and brings new elements to the plate. Le Bon gathered a smattering of love for Me Oh My, but Cyrk found a lot more positive response and focus. 2012 was when I discovered Cate Le Bon and I was instantly struck by her music. I was into artists like Laura Marling and one would have forgiven Le Bon for following Marling in terms of sound and lyrical direction. Luckily, Le Bon kept her music true to who she was and, as such, instantly burrowed her way into my brain. In the world of art, Cyrk is contemporary Polish circus posters that emerged in 1962 as a genre of the Polish School of Posters. They are characterized by their display of aesthetic qualities such as painterly gestures, linear design; hand-lettering, metaphors, humour and vibrant colors. Usually based on a single theme and meant to be advertisements; they were created in an attempt to interest the passerby in the upcoming circus
The reviews for Cyrk were largely positive and encouraging. In their review of Cate Le Bon’s sophomore album, Drowned in Sound wrote the following:
“It’s surprising that these songs should work so well on an album that opens with the rattling rock ‘n’ roll of ‘Falcon Eyed’ (easily CYRK’s catchiest song) but Cate le Bon seems to celebrate contrast – a point proven by CYRK’s final two tracks. ‘Ploughing Out Part 1’ has a beautifully inflected country guitar and the gentlest of choruses, and its simplicity is entirely at odds with ‘Ploughing Out Part 2’, where you’ll find an eclectic array of instruments caught up in a semi-motorik psychedelic wig-out. These two halves of the same song set these two sides of le Bon’s sound in stark contrast to one other, at the end of an album that’s done well to combine them.
Admittedly, the shabby production on CYRK means its colourful psychedelic streak isn’t as vivid as it is on, say, Gruff Rhys’ Hotel Shampoo, but that’s perhaps an unfair comparison. What this album makes perfectly clear is that Cate le Bon isn’t attempting to emulate anyone – not even her most distinguished collaborator. She’s made an album that only she could have made, and frankly it’s refreshing to hear a female singer from a folk background whose most obvious and overwhelming reference point isn’t Joni Mitchell via Laura Marling. A songwriter this unique and talented shouldn’t be standing in anyone’s shadow”.
PHOTO CREDIT: Kirsten Mcternan
Because her music was getting more spotlight and love, Le Bon was speaking more with the media. It is interesting noticing the differences between Me Oh My and Cryk. I think Le Bon grew in confidence and you can really hear that in the songs. Although Reward is my favourite album of hers, Cryk is an important breakthrough and one that found her taken to heart by so many people. In this interview with The Quietus, Le Bon was asked about her upbringing and the differences between her two studio albums:
“And how did growing up in rural Wales impact on your music?
CLB: Wales played a big role in my musical education. Growing up in the 90s there were two key bands in Wales, Super Furry Animals and Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci; two very varied and innovative bands that really inspired me. I also think that growing up where I did, in the Welsh countryside, impacted on my lyrical content too. The sense of space and, at times, isolation; you can definitely see the influence of that in my music.
What was the inspiration for the new album?
CLB: I was really inspired when I was at the Away Game festival on the Isle of Eigg. It’s such a beautiful island and I felt very moved by the place. I write a lot about the sea, so it’s probably not a surprise that somewhere like that inspired me. Lyrically, I see the album as a time travel travelogue, filled with the stuff that I usually write about; the sea, matters of the heart and animals (and sometimes all three together).
Musically, how would you describe the album?
CLB: I think it’s a bit of a mish-mash, possibly with a harder edge than my first album. There are poppy bits, such as the first track on the album, 'Falcon Eyed', there’s folky bits, prog bits and a bit of psychedelia thrown in for good measure too.
How did the making of CYRK differ from the making of Me Oh My?
CLB: With my first album, a lot of the tracks had been knocking around in my brain for years. That wasn’t the case second time around. I had to sit down and write new stuff. I also found, following the experience of the first album, that I was much more aware of instrumentation when writing CYRK. I knew how recording the album would work in a studio, what instruments and sounds you could add. With Me Oh My, I was much less aware of that side of things and so wrote in a slightly different way.
Is it important to you to sing in both Welsh and English?
CLB: Unlike some people who are bilingual, I get the chance to use both languages equally in everyday life. So when it comes to singing it made sense for my songs to reflect this. But, I do find that it’s easier to write in English, largely because for me Welsh is a difficult language to write lyrics in. Gruff Rhys, Euros Childs and Meic Stevens are wonderful Welsh lyricists, people who seem to write with ease. I’d love to have that level of ease but I don’t. But it’s still great that I possess the ability to sing in another language, specifically one that I think is so beautiful.
Following Cyrk and how busy Le Bon was promoting and touring it, one could have forgiven her for taking a step back and recalibrating. Instead, Mug Museum sort of represents transition and tragedy. Le Bon recorded the album in Los Angeles in March 2013 and relocate to the U.S. from Wales. Recorded alongside Noah Georgeson (who has worked with Joanna Newsom and Devendra Banhart), Mug Museum is a sparser work than we were used to. It is stripped-back; though Le Bon does collaborate with other artists on various tracks (Perfume Genius pops up on I Think I Knew). Le Bon wrote the album as a reaction to her grandmother’s death. Rather than produce something grief-stricken and depressed, Le Bon realised that this important woman who was at the top of the family chain had gone; relationship dynamics were shifting and there was this obvious void. I love the title of Mug Museum because, according to Le Bon, it is an imagery place where relationships are looked upon and viewed – sort of like people staring at mugs and their individual designs (although, originally, the term was coined by a former roommate of Le Bon’s, given the number of mugs strewn about the place). There were not many interviews from Cate Le Bon in 2013, but that didn’t matter. She was going through this challenging time and had moved to a new country, one where a lot of people did not know about her.
There are a lot of great reviews for Mug Museum. AllMusic had this to say when they reviewed the album:
“The front half of Mug Museum is sublime, a heady mix of clever, Tom Verlaine-inspired guitar lines, sneaky, circuitous melodies, and poetic yet evasive lyrics that culminate into a rich stew of psych-pop goodness. Songs like the propulsive opener "I Can’t Help You," with its snappy, Stereolab-primed backbeat and tonal uniformity, the loose and affable "Are You with Me Now?," and the lovely "I Think I Knew," the latter a lush and moving duet with Seattle-based singer/songwriter (and fellow pop outcast) Mike Hadreas (Perfume Genius), find Le Bon firmly in her comfort zone, even as she pokes and prods around its edges, but Mug Museum, with the exception of the gutsy, proto-punk boardwalk rocker "Sisters" loses a little steam near the end, relying too often on dissonant quirks and meandering VU-style free-jams. It’s not Cyrk III (Le Bon issued an EP of songs called Cyrk II shortly after the release of its precursor), but Mug Museum will delight anybody with ears who enjoyed her previous outing, and while it may lack some of the focus of its predecessor, it retains every bit of its oddball charm”.
Given the fact Cate Le Bon was acclimatising to a new home and adapting to America (Los Angeles), it was another few years before we saw Crab Day. Crab Day came out in 2016 and it saw Le Bon change her working methods. Now, short demos were recorded first; she used different instruments and lyrics arrived after the music was realised.
Maybe there was a need to do something different and push her music forward; perhaps her new environment inspired that shift. Whatever compelled that evolution, one can definitely hear a step-up in Le Bon’s music. Le Bon mapped out the songs in her head and (in her head) were vocal melodies, not just the lyrics. When she had the song ready to go, she would rehearse with her band - Stephen Black (bass), Huw Evans (guitar) and Stella Mozgawa (drums) – and then things were moved to the studio; recorded was done in five days and then Le Bon completed her vocals and overdubs. I can imagine it was a bit scary transitioning from the security and familiarity of Wales and moving to the bustle of L.A. It could have stunted Le Bon’s music but, instead, it seems like this fresh vein of inspiration arrived. Again, press reaction was positive and Le Bon was very much in people’s minds. I think the opportunities of America were obvious and really benefited her. I can imagine a lot of different factors contributed to her move, but I think it worked out for her. Certainty, Crab Day earned Le Bon the best reviews of her career to date. The Guardian were full of praise when they reviewed Crab Day:
“After third album Mug Museum, Welsh art-popper Cate Le Bon has turned the last of her pottery-wheel twee and, on Crab Day, creates a springy rubber-band-ball of angular guitar, squalling saxophone and elastic basslines. Single Wonderful, for example, sounds like it has popped out of a Warhol Campbell’s soup can. Mostly, though, the album has the eccentric air of an am-dram troupe who have raided the dressing up box, hopped in the camper van and escaped to the seaside to make their own fun (which is sort of what happened – it was recorded on the Pacific Coast, California, with musicians including Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa). It’s cacophonous but also whimsical, thanks to Le Bon’s detached narration. She sings abstractly about coathangers and yellow blinds as if sitting on her own luminous cloud. It’s best on tracks such as We Might Revolve, on which her thrilling, tightly wound post-punk guitar is glazed by her Nicoish impressionistic vocals, or What’s Not Mine, the incessant marching drums and customarily quirky xylophone offset by a sweetly sung airiness. Long may Le Bon continue to weird up the rulebook.
Although some critics were still sort of coming to terms with an artist as individual and original as Le Bon, Crab Day really struck a chord with so many people. I want to bring in an interview Le Bon conducted in 2016 but, ahead of that, another review for Crab Day – this time it is from Pitchfork:
“As much as Le Bon's expression on Crab Day feels abstract and alienating, it also speaks to a deep intimacy—perhaps one that's been lost and provoked all this discombobulation in the first place. Mug Museum made an emotional archive out of the dirty cups she collected in her room. Here, she ascribes impenetrable significance to inanimate objects—she feels like geometry, a dirty attic, and a humid satellite in the face of a lover—but struggles to rationalize the basics of human connection: She and the subject of her address routinely look through each other, the effect like a love story pieced together through split screen. "How would I know you really swim in me?" she asks on "How Do You Know?" "How would I know to stay?"
Crab Day is a voyage into doubt led by a queasy compass, and a ringleader who's prepared to stake out uncertain territory. Le Bon always keeps you guessing, making the old traditions of guitar-oriented rock feel arbitrary, too. Her nervy assessments of the world are filled with equal parts suspense and heart, and beautifully zany riffs, where the feeling of being frayed by uncertainty comes together into a strangely comforting patchwork”.
One can only envisage how the folk of Los Angeles took to Cate Le Bon at first. I know there are Welsh people living in L.A., but there cannot be that many! Americans have always been fascinated by the English accent, but what of someone who is Welsh? Also, Le Bon herself had to deal with a change in scenery, weather and feel. It must have been intimidating at first, though Le Bon managed to overcome any differences and struggles fairly easily. Crab Day definitely signalled a new direction for Le Bon, one that proved hugely popular and intriguing. Many press sources had been following Cate Le Bon since her debut came out, so they were keen to interview her in 2016 and ask about her move to America. The Independent caught up with Le Bon, who talked about her new album and how things have changed:
“Translation issues aside, Le Bon has bridged the cultural gap between “lovely, rainy, familiar and comfortable” Cardiff and Los Angeles with the same sense of adventure that defines her output. Le Bon has been in California since 2013, initially drawn by “the extreme beauty colliding with concrete mess. It’s a strange and compelling place.”
Musically, Crab Day is Le Bon’s most accomplished record yet, a difficult to define, curious cocktail of The Velvet Underground and Nico, early CBGB’s rock, post-punk guitars and the imagination of Kate Bush. Written in the mouth of Stinson Beach in San Francisco with her band (which included Warpaint drummer Stella Mozgawa as well as long-standing cohorts Stephen Black and Huw Evans), Crab Day’s freedom echoes its surroundings, recalling the anything-goes first day of summer. Having just made a scuzzy, lo-fi album with White Fence’s Tim Presley under the moniker Drinks, Le Bon tackled Crab Day with the same sense of abandonment.
“The Drinks record was just imbued with joy and excitement,” she says. “There was no audience and no expectation and I found it to be so fulfilling and nourishing that the only important thing was you were making it for yourself. I realised I’d lost a bit of that in my own music. So again working with close friends, in this beautiful place, in a bubble thinking about what’s happening and not what comes next – it was pure joyfulness. I’m not trying to be perverse of difficult. I’m making music that genuinely excites me”.
Before Reward arrived this year, Le Bon had once again made some changes and altered her environment. I will introduce a couple of interviews in a second but, from the time of Crab Day coming out in 2016 and Reward’s creative process beginning, Le Bon’s life had changed; she was no longer in L.A. and, as this interview from The Skinny shows, Le Bon had made another big move:
“Le Bon sequestered herself to Cumbria in the Lake District – sustained on a diet of David Bowie, Kate Bush and Pharoah Sanders – and joined a nearby furniture-making course. "I love how grounding it is, working with a tangible material. It’s the antidote to most ailments," she tells us. Yet somehow the urge to compose never went away. "I wasn’t really aware I was writing an album. I wrote as a cathartic outlet," she says, noting the need to let off steam after a hard day’s graft in the workshop”.
When she spoke with The Independent, Le Bon discussed her creative process and a sense of isolation; she also touched on issues away from Reward’s creation, namely sexism in the industry:
“In the run-up to making this record I was living this alienation. I kind of exiled myself by a series of decisions, which I didn’t fully comprehend the impact of. I would sing to myself. I’d go for a week without speaking to anybody, so when the time came to go the bakery or something I’d be surprised by the sound of my own voice. There’s no one to seek approval other than yourself, which is risky but it’s pretty exciting too, at times. You create a kind of vacuum where you annihilate your own existence in a way. It takes time to look back on things. The thing about living there and going to furniture school was to allow music to become something that wasn’t under surveillance, to readdress my relationship with it.
Sexism in music is tiresome as a conversation because it’s still prevalent. I guess there’s still a fear of speaking out, a valid fear that your career could be ruined. The biggest issue for me is when men who are reviewing decide what the intention of the artist was. How the f*** do you know? That, to me, is another red flag. But what can you do? I called someone out on it once, when they called me a “singer-songwriter” and the man an “artist”, and they said they didn’t want to use the same word twice. I asked them, would you have called him a “singer-songwriter”? Of course not.
I loved being in furniture school. We’d start out with sharpening chisels. One girl ripped her hand open, which was a real lesson in being vigilant. She laughed when it happened, but I nearly passed out when I took her to the sink and the water hit the wound, and I realised how deep it was.
One would not imagine furniture-making to be the most calming pursuits, but it seems to have done wonders and really done Cate Le Bon a lot of good. I guess the previous few years were pretty hectic, so she needed some time to think and get some quiet. One might think Reward would be a very stripped and subtle album; one that sort of took Le Bon back to her earliest days. Instead, Reward, to me, is her busiest and most accomplished album. I will end with a couple of reviews for Reward but, before that, I want to source from an interview Cate Le Bon gave to Stereogum, where she was asked about Reward and themes addressed:
“STEREOGUM: When you’re working on music are you open to other influences? Or is it more like you’re just focused on your own project?
LE BON: I think it was Robert Fripp who said, “If you love music, you should become a plumber.” There was an element of when you start going to school every day and that becomes your identity. I started to consume music differently as well. I would wake up every morning and listen to Bowie and it just filled me up for the day. Then listen to the radio all day at school. Then come home and listen to Pharoah Sanders, Prince, or Kate Bush, really go for the heavy hitters. Music that is instantaneous and joyful. It’s always difficult to know what influences you on a record or anything you’re doing.
STEREOGUM: Something I noticed on the album was a maternal theme or motifs of the mother. Could you speak to that?
LE BON: It was unconscious. But looking back, it was a real time of solitude. Solitude … I love it, but at times it can turn on you. It was maybe subconsciously one of those comfort calls. But I’ve also been noticing how disgruntled a lot of female members of my family are and have become over the years and really noticed it in myself during that time. It’s more about women maybe.
Growing and getting stronger with each album, Reward is a very different album to that of Me Oh My. Reward has gained universal acclaim and, as I said earlier, it gained her nominations for the Mercury Prize and Welsh Music Prize. It is one of this year’s best releases; it is amazing to see how far Cate Le Bon has come over the past decade. I think Reward is just the start of a new phase and wave. I am excited imagining what comes next and when we might get more material from Le Bon. Praise was forthcoming for Reward. AllMusic had their say:
“Reward chases several impulses. Songs like "Home to You" and "Daylight Matters" are straightforward pop through the alien lens of Le Bon's psyche. Familiar sounds (dry '70s drums and airy, chorus-drenched guitar chords) are transmuted into strange melodies as organic and synthetic instruments blur together. Even as some of her most direct work, the catchy melodies and lovelorn lyrics are layered with mystery. When working in more abstract modes, Le Bon taps into the same level of persona, curiosity, and delighted weirdness that marked Bowie's Berlin trilogy or Prince's most internal work. The awkward funk of "Magnificent Gestures" is a prime example of this side of the album, with Le Bon exploring sounds and lyrics like a child picks up toys, quickly considering a universe of possibilities in each idea before moving on to the next. These elements of pop and experimentation intersect seamlessly throughout Reward, exemplified in the end half of "The Light," which unravels from soft pop into a frantic monologue. The album is spacious and remarkably constructed, with hidden compartments built for secret sounds that seem to unlock with repeated listenings. Easily Le Bon's most involved, risky, and satisfying material up until this point.
ILLUSTRATION CREDIT: bijou karman
It is no wonder Le Bon was award-nominated this year, given the strength of the material on Reward. It is an album that hits you on the first listen but, like all great albums, you discover all kind of new things the more you listen. I don’t think one can compare Le Bon’s latest album to anything out there right now. Reward is this wonderful record that suits any mood and everyone can appreciate it. The songs are instantly memorable and there is so much depth and nuance in every moment. The Guardian had some interesting observations when they reviewed Reward:
“The music has a kind of light, sunlit melodicism that is more a product of the environment in which it was recorded – Los Angeles, with a backing band that includes Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa and current Red Hot Chili Pepper Josh Klinghoffer – than of the north-west’s brooding fells. On the surface, these are exceptionally pretty songs. The winding tune of Home to You is particularly lovely. There’s a distinct hint of take-it-or-leave-it about Mother’s Mother’s Magazines. Whether its mannered vocals and Young Marble Giants-esque sparse bass line and guitar arrangement being interrupted by staccato sax honking is appealingly curious or just annoying is a moot point, but it feels like an idiosyncrasy, at odds with the rest of Reward. Far more characteristic is the gentle, beguiling drift of Here It Comes Again, or Daylight Matters’ slightly off-kilter take on soft rock.
But scratch beneath the surface and a different album emerges: something sombre and occasionally disconcerting. Le Bon’s lyrics are elliptical at the best of times – “factories fold under owner-spectator and the cross you never used becomes the news” (answers on a postcard please) – but it’s hard to miss the sense of loss that inhabits them, however sweet their melodies. “I love you but you’re not here, I love you but you’ve gone,” laments Daylight Matters. “Holding the door for my own tragedy, take blame for the hurt, but the hurt belongs to me,” she sings on The Light. Moreover, the pain seems compounded by isolation, as if attempting to get away from it all has only provided more time to brood: “All the changing of the light is torture, memories outdoing memories”, “man alive, this solitude is wrinkles in the dirt”.
You can check Cate Le Bon’s official website for all updates regarding music and touring; make sure you connect via her social media channels and see what she is up to. This year has been a successful and busy one for her. She will want to chill as we head into 2020, but I am sure she already has a plan of action drawn up. She has just recorded an album with Bradford Cox, Myths 004, that has gained good reviews. It is a bit of a change for Le Bon and is described thus:
“As sure as if it had been mapped in the stars, or written in a prophecy buried deep beneath the sands of the Marfa desert, a collaboration between Cate Le Bon and Bradford Cox was always something of an inevitability. After years of admiring each other’s work from afar, the two finally converged on Marfa, Texas in 2018, at Mexican Summer’s annual Marfa Myths festival. Gaps puttied by a band of frequent Cate Le Bon co-conspirators on drums, saxophone, percussion, keys and additional guitar (Stella Mozgawa of Warpaint, Stephen Black of Sweet Baboo, Tim Presley of White Fence, and Samur Khouja); the EP–fourth in Mexican Summer’s Myths series–was written and recorded in just one week.
IMAGE CREDIT: Mexican Summer
For both Le Bon and Cox, Myths 004 signals a change of tack: meticulousness thrown to the wind as spontaneous, jammy tales of firemen and 5p plastic bags, unbrushed hair and shoelessness and makeup-daubed landscapes—roll effortlessly off their cuffs. “We committed ourselves to embracing the chaos, surrendering to all moments and moods that travelled through,” says Le Bon. “It’s a crude holiday scrapbook shared by all involved, an amalgamation of the changes in mood and light that shaped the days.”
Maybe we will not get another album so quickly, though one can definitely not rule out the odd track here and there; there will be tour dates for sure. I think Cate Le Bon will influence artists for years to come and her music will continue to amaze and stun. If you are no familiar with Cate Le Bon then make sure you familiarise yourself with…
A simply wonderful artist.