The question on the lips of the sheep is not so much a who; we know the dynamic duo behind the masks of April Fish are Wellingtonians Katie Morton and John Costa.
After listening to their debut Blurred what the sheep are trying to define is what.
This isn’t a case for Google and their trusty side-kick Bing, unless they’re interest is the origin of April Fool’s Day. Even April Fish themselves have trouble describing their sound. Attempts include “Progressive Alternative Jazzy Chamber-Pop-Rock” and “Part sci-fi jazz melodrama, part cabaret-rock fever dream.”
Listening to Blurred won’t help the sheep define the music either. It’s like nothing most people have ever heard before. At times it’s chamber music, an operatic orchestration. At others it’s the soundtrack to a 1930s Raygun Gothic Sci-Fi that was never made. It’s altogether beautiful in all its multilayered rawness and lyrically vivid. I've never played Catch-n-Kiss with a Piranha, but since hearing the Villain Not Quite Bad Enough to Hate I can’t get the image from my mind.
Blurred is music that doesn’t quite fit the candy coated norm, for people who don’t swim in the mainstream by a couple of free thinkers who are not trying to be the next Natalie Imbruglia.
Even though handing a copy of Blurred to a Bieber or Cyrus fan is probably the best thing for them, it’s like handing your Linear Algebra homework to an English Literature Major.
If you consider yourself an individual, a thinker apart from the rat race, if you appreciate unique music that doesn’t make 15 year olds scream, if you think anything Amanda Palmer touches turns to gold, if you hate the words YOLO and Twerk, then I suggest you look up April Fish.
You can find Blurred streaming from their website (http://aprilfish.co.nz/music.htm).
A name born from the literal translation of the French term for "April Fools (day)", April Fish is pianist/singer-songwriter Katie Morton ably backed by John Costa. The music is a concoction of soundscapes with an artistic freedom that is so left of the middle, it's as if Tim Burton and Kate Bush are in command of the Starship Enterprise as it boldly accompanies Alice down the rabbit hole. Or put simply, to borrow the words of Katie's niece: "It sounds like an alien invading a circus."
In their first full length release they have given birth to a Kiwi album unlike anything you’ve ever heard before.
Part sci-fi jazz melodrama, part cabaret-rock fever dream, Blurred gleefully milks all the musical sacred cows Kiwi artists have traditionally been afraid to, while spawning a unique New Zealand Gothicism. Blurred is at some points space opera, at others an unapologetic insight into New Zealand subculture attitudes towards status quo art; its poignant introspection and need to defy convention.