Austin Sound

I’ve found that I always have a deeper attachment to the unconventional voices. The effort it takes to understand and appreciate the voice makes the relationship less one-sided, more involved. Tom Waits, Joanna Newsom, Ian Curtis, hell, even Bob Dylan and Neil Young; as much as I’d like to say I immediately fell for these singers, the truth is it took some time. Through patience and persistence, something clicks and uncertainty translates into unwavering allegiance. Chamber pop outfit Hello Lovers follows their 2006 EP Vanity Fair with their first full length Gone with the Wind, an album that has plenty more to offer than just the unconventional vocals of front man J.C. King. This second effort sees the group getting comfortable with each other, a maturation that is welcomed by the members who were more or less thrown together for the making of Vanity Fair. Gone with the Wind is bigger, more refined arrangements against the expansive, dynamic croons and caws of King.

Hello Lovers is one of the most unique groups in Austin. Behind John King’s volatile, swooning moans that pitch in gritty, operatic swells atop lush strings, Hello Lovers melds Antony’s passionate croon with Scott Walker’s dark orchestral visions, cut with a southern flair. Last year’s debut EP, Vanity Fair, was an unsettling yet graceful baroque construction, and their new full-length, Gone With the Wind, proves even more impressive as the group has come together into a dramatic force of strings and piano. Hello Lovers will be releasing the CD this Thursday, July 17 at the Mohawk, and we spoke to the band about the origins of their stunning sound and the making of the new album.

Hello Lovers’ debut EP, Vanity Fair, begins dramatically and with no warning. Along with the first notes of piano and cello, lead-singer J.C. King belts suddenly: “Fear like flies about the wrist / have you my dear have wanted of this?” It’s an appropriately unsettling and brash start to an album that is relentless and restless at every turn. King’s sweeping, operatic vocals fly and dip with variable inflections, combining with his bitingly direct, yet poetic, lyrics to create something that is harsh and brutal, yet undeniably beautiful and alluring. The songs shift internally with an abrupt grace, baroque in their construction, and dance between melancholy and mania behind the cello and violin of Mollie Fischer and Masha Poloskov, respectively.