Ahead of the release of her forthcoming self-released, crowdfunded album, Mosswood – which we absolutely love – minimal electronic pop artist Mayshe-Mayshe has released a third single by way of a taster.
‘Little Yeah Whatever’ encapsulates the spirit of Mayshe-Mayshe perfectly – subtle, understated, shy-sounding, but with an unexpected strength at the core.
AA
16th October 2025
Christopher Nosnibor
Does the constant flood of bile on social media, the relentless flow of horrible, horrible news, and the general shitness of both people and society make you want to run away, hide, live in the woods? It seems that during the lull that was lockdown – a weird period which threw so many people into a spin of confusion that we really need to accept that there have been long-lasting repercussions from what amounted to a collective trauma – something changed, as if the world shifted on its axis. Some of us were more traumatised than others, it’s true, and that’s for wide-ranging reasons.
Alice Rowan – aka Mayshe-Mayshe – has documented her own post-lockdown issues with long Covid via her social media, and how it’s impacted her ability to maintain her work-rate. But here she is, finally bringing her third studio album, Mosswood to the world, and it’s the perfect antidote to all the stress and strain of modern life.
She describes it as ‘a dreamy art-pop exploration of mossy woodland and Tove Jansson’s final two Moomin novels… Her music blends dreamy art-pop and electronica with rich storytelling and infectious melodies, with organic elements woven into all aspects of her music.’ You may ask why – why would an adult be so invested in a fantasy world which has such strong connotations of childhood? A reasonable response would be ‘why not?’ In the face of the horrors which surround us everyday, retreating to the comforts of those peaceful, simpler times is the ultimate escapism. And what’s more, there is a strong connection with all things natural here, evoking the woods so many of us yearn to escape to.
Mosswood is introspective and personal, but also a passage to perfect escapism, and Mayshe-Mayshe balances breeziness and an air of naivete with anxiety and inner turmoil. And the result is so, so magnificent, magical, a balm to all of the noise. It’s the twitter of birds, the scratching of bugs, the tinkle of streams. Incorporating field recordings for the first time, on Mosswood Mayshe-Mayshe really brings nature in. Single release ‘Mycelium’ is exemplary: the percussion is more like the footsteps of overgrown insects – I’m reminded of Roald Dahl’s James and the Giant Peach in soe ways. But songs like ‘Tiny Disasters’ push to the fore the tensions and the darker aspects of the creative psyche, and reminds us that sometimes, life is simply difficult to process. ‘I’ll be afraid again…’ she repeats, twitchily, capturing perfectly exactly what it’s like to fret, chew and churn., against a glitchy, flickering beat and buzzing sound backing.
In the main, Mosswood is the sound of dappled shade, of gentility and deep breaths – and the big reverb which surrounds Alice’s voice is less like a cloak and more like a comfort blanket as the listener is led into a soft, gentle soundspace, which evokes snuffling and scuffling, and, more importantly, pure escape. On ‘The Little Things’, she sings in breathy, introspective tones of worries – but the immersive waves wash those worries away.
What Mosswood really tells us is that happy, skippy tunes do not instantly equate to effusions of joy, or endless happiness. That said, Mosswood is the sound of freedom, of connecting with nature, feeling the textures of grass, of bark, of moss. Utilising an array of instrumentation, Mosswood is understated and so, so uplifting. There are so many layers, there is so much detail to absorb. But ultimately, Mosswood reminds us that nature is there, all around, and it’s beautiful and our lives are richer if we engage with it. Look at the trees. Touch the bark. Breathe the air. This is life. Live it. Celebrate it.
AA
11th November 2022
Christopher Nosnibor
Yorkshire based Mayshe-Mayshe’s bio references blending ‘dreamy art-pop and electronica with rich storytelling, skittering percussion and infectious melodies’, and how her ‘deceptively simple songwriting – at once universal and deeply personal – incorporates choral vocals, vintage synths and the occasional hairdryer.’
Said hairdryer was observed in a couple of live reviews I’ve penned in recent years, in catching her live in 2016 and 2021, but what always stands out during her performances is just how deftly she combines an array of elements, both stylistic and instrumental. She’s by no means just ‘another’ loop pedal artist, but a musical who judiciously uses the tools available to conjure textured, layered, detailed works which are, at the same time, simple and radiate aa unique sense of – for wont of a better word – naivete. But equally, her capacity for understatement is a defining characteristic. The fact that while playing a number of regional shows to launch Indigo, her second full-length album, her hometown show in York on the release date is in a record shop/café with a capacity of about 30 speaks for itself.
Performing as Mayshe-Mayshe, Alice Rowan presents as not necessarily shy, but introspective, considered, contemplative and as much as immersing her work in reservedness, there’s a certain sparkle of sass and levity in the mix, as titles like ‘You Throw Lemons, We Throw Parties’ from 2019’s Cocoa Smoke indicates.
Indigo is simultaneously simple and complex. As the lyrics to the title track demonstrate, she’s given to exploring emotional depths by balancing the direct and the oblique to create an obfuscating haze. And, in record, the same is true of her compositions.
‘But I Do’ kicks the album off in a style that’s minimal and poppy and kinda urban but at the same time ethereal and shoegazy, with busy fingerdrums and a crystalline distillation of mood that invites solid and favourable comparisons to The XX.
‘Dark Mountain’, released as a single in September, is really rather buoyant, with a bouncy bass and busy lead synth and twitchy urban vocal delivery that’s quite at odds with the tense lyrics and the ‘I’m drowning, downing’ hook which speaks to anxiety and panic. I suppose you might call it a sugar-coated pill, but it showcases Alice’s capacity to pen bleak yet buoyant pop tunes.
In contrast, ‘Moonflood’ is altogether darker yet dreamy, in a Curesque way, while ‘The Colours of Anxiety’, which originally featured on the 2019 Long Division compilation, is looping, lilting, and easy on the ear in a way that brushes over the tension it channels via a stuttering beat akin to a palpating heart. In this way, Mayshe-Mayshe conveys sensation beyond the words, beyond the explicit, and does so beautifully, in the most subtly resonant fashion.
In many ways, ‘Eczema’ speaks for itself, an itch that just won’t go away, sore and raw, uncomfortable and irritating, but presented in a palatable fashion, and ‘How to be Happy’ feels like a conscious attempt to be uplifting – which is it, but there are strong undercurrent which are less joyous. ‘Zachter’ is another previous release, having featured as the lead track on the two-track Zachter EP last year. With its lyrics in German and its instrumentation sparse and gloopy and with a hypnotic minimal dance groove, it’s something of an oddity which sits apart from the rest of the album.
The title track, released as a single only the other week, rounds the album off in a hazy, intricately detailed style. Accessible, and often breezy-sounding and easy on the ear, Indigo is an album that’s rich in depth and complexity. It’s thoughtful and emotive and dark and tense yet still extremely enjoyable. It’s a wonderful thing.
AA
Shows:
Nov 10
Newcastle Upon Tyne, UK
Nov 11
York, UK
Nov 12
Sheffield, UK
Nov 14
Derby, UK
Nov 15
Durham, UK
Nov 17
Leeds, UK
Nov 18
Manchester, UK
Nov 19
Hartlepool, UK
Nov 20
Halifax, UK
Nov 26
Richmond (North Yorkshire), UK
Christopher Nosnibor
For a Sunday night it York, it’s not a bad turnout, and while I’m not often a fan of seated shows, this bill of laid-back electronic-based music lends itself perfectly to adopting a less upright position for optimal enjoyment. Plus, it makes a welcome change to be able to put my beer on a table in front of me, rather than have to clutch it and thus warm it with increasingly condensation-dampened hands, or to concern myself with wearing a jacket with adequately capacious pockets that facilitate free hands for taking notes, taking photographs.
Two of tonight’s acts I saw only a few weeks ago, and when Mayshe Mayshe opened up for Living Body (for whom Shield Patterns were the main support) at the Brudenell in Leeds, I was charmed by her lo-fi minimalist pop tunes. Tonight’s set confirms that the bells, whistles, mini-pianos and hair-dryers aren’t gimmicky features of a novelty act, but genuinely useful features of a sound that’s spurred by innovation. Her songs are beautifully crafted examples of quirky bedroom elecro-pop. But for all the sparseness, there are some dense bass tones.
Mayshe Mayshe
Having been less than enthused by the performance of hipster laptop DJ Game Program supporting Silver Apples recently, I’m even less enthused by Jakoby’s noodlings. In fairness, he has a lot of ideas. Some of them are good, and some are very good. But many of them are not, and his compositions have a tendency to throw everything at every track, often simultaneously. There were at least a dozen points that would have made a tidy ending to the set, but he kept bringing it back up and what’s likely intended as a brain-bending sonic overload ends up being an overlong exercise in onanism.
Jakoby
What a contrast, then, Elsa Hewitt. Same format in principle: a solo performer with a laptop and a mix desk, she’s understated as a performer, but it very soon becomes clear she has an immense talent and is doing something genuinely different. In this line of work, even the inventive and the radical can pale against the sheer volume of acts trying to carve a niche by virtue of their supposed uniqueness. But with some thunderous trip-hop beats – which are in places contrasted with minimalist, flickering glitch beats – and washes of amorphous sound over low, throbbing, scrotum-vibrating bass, topped with ethereal vocals and looped self-harmonies, Else forges a sound unlike anyone else. Building some slow-burning, hypnotic grooves, the gap in the market for Urban Ambient is hers for the taking.
Elsa Hewitt
It’s Claire Brentnall’s birthday, and having launched the second Shield Patterns album with a hometown launch show in Manchester the night before, she celebrates with a superlative performance tonight. The duo’s layered, detailed music is well-suited to the intimate atmosphere of the darkened Crescent, and the PA does it justice. The tonal separation and sonic depth is magnificent, the vocals crisp yet still shrouded in reverb: effectively recreating the sound of their considered studio recordings, it’s easy to get lost in the space between the layers of sound. Brentnall’s haunting vocals are enveloped in extraneous noise and a gauze-like blend of synths and field sounds, while Richard Knox hammers out thunderous, rolling drum sounds on an impressive drum pad setup. With the minimal lighting, it all makes for a compelling show, and a magnificent way to end a weekend.
Shield Patterns
Christopher Nosnibor
The last decade has seen The Brudenell evolve from a low-key space used by local and lesser-known visiting bands of the type most other venues wouldn’t let through the door (my first visit to The Brudenell was to see Whitehouse) to one of the UK’s most renowned music venues. Despite this – and perhaps one of the reasons people truly love the place – they still cater for the smaller bands and locals, and open their doors to unusual events, in the way only a non-profit organisation can. Tonight’s show is a classic example: four quality acts comprising one of the most eclectic bills I’ve seen this year for the grand entry fee of precisely nothing. It may be a way of enticing people in on a Sunday evening after the end of the academic year, but I can’t imagine anyone would grumble at paying a fiver for this. Take the headliners, for a start: Living Body is the new musical vehicle for Jeff T. Smith of Juffage renown, in collaboration with Katie Harkin (Harkin, Sky Larkin, Wild Beasts, Sleater-Kinney), Vessel Tom Evans, Alice Rowan (Mayshe-Mayshe) & Sarah Statham (Esper Scout).
It’s a busy night for Alice Rowan. Starting the evening’s entertainment off after a few technical hitches with a Mayshe-Mayshe set. Something amongst the myriad wires that connect her loop pedal and various other effects and one of her mics isn’t sending the right kind of signal, but after she skips the first song and gets going, she very quickly has everyone’s attention. Airing songs from her new November EP, she showcases an enticing and intriguing brand of minimalist electronic pop with hints of Young Marble Giants. There are some interesting beats and some resonant bass notes in the mix alongside chiming bells, whistles and hair dryer and Alice’ meek and understated style of performance is an integral part of the appeal of a set that’s utterly compelling.
Mayshe-Mayshe
I caught the tail end of Buen Chico’s set at Long Division Festival in June, and found their brand of quirky indie entertaining enough. On that day, they suffered for appearing alongside and in between so many outstanding acts. Singer / keysman Morgan has hair and a frame which suggests he was born to be in an indie band, and the foursome channel a certain nerdiness which is self-effacing and charming: their clever-clever lyrics are delivered without smugness or superiority. They have some decent tunes and they play well. Concluding their set with a dilogy of theologically-themed songs inspired by Job. They’re good fun, but again, prove to be the night’s least memorable band simply by virtue of the outstanding nature of the other acts on the bill.
Buen Chico
Despite their having been in existence for a few years now, and despite the fact I have – and very much like – all of their releases to date (the album Contour Lines (2014) and 2015 Violet EP), this is the first time I’ve seen Shield Patterns perform live. With the duo – Richard Knox and Claire Brentnall – largely static behind a vast bank of synths and digital kit, they cultivate a certain distance from the audience. Swathed in smoke, illuminated primarily by fixed red backlights, they’re almost silhouetted from the audience’s vantage point.
Shield Patterns
The stark yet shrouded visuals compliment the music perfectly as they build deep, murky swells of blooding sound. Knox – sporting a Melvins T-shirt which suggests he’s not all about the atmospheric and ethereal 2/7 – has a particularly interesting device with which, using a conventional drumstick – he ‘drums’ to create immense, thunderous drum sounds which boom vastly and echo as if the sound is travelling six miles up a valley in a grand mountain range. Theirs is a sound which evokes immense spaces and transports the listener to places far beyond the confines of a room. While I always admired Glissando (Richard’s previous musical venture), the hushed nature of their performances meant that if you couldn’t hear a pin drop, then you probably couldn’t hear half of their music either. The Shield Patterns sound is altogether bigger, bolder, and denser, and more than manages to drown out the endless babble of the chubby tosser behind me. Moreover, their music is completely captivating and everything else fades to nothing in the face of their immersive, texture-filled songs.
Shield Patterns
That Katie Harkin is absent from Living Body’s first tour – being a member of about half a dozen other bands as well as having a solo career, it’s not entirely surprising she has other touring commitments – isn’t an impedance to their creating a rich and varied sound. Adopting a standing position behind the drum kit, Sarah Statham makes her presence felt physically and sonically, and it’s clear from simply looking at this ragtag collective (who could also easily qualify as a Leeds supergroup, Alice’s residence in York notwithstanding) that they’re different, and that each member has something unique to offer. The resultant output is fittingly different too.
Living Body
Jeff T. Smith and Alice Rowan co-front the band and banter their way through the set with a disarming naturalness, mock-bickering over which songs are ‘rock’ and which ones ‘pop’ (the way to tell a rock song is by Alice’s wearing of shades). The fact is that there are elements of both to all of the songs, with shoegaze, post-rock, folk, sunny indie-rock and even 70s radio-rock all spun into an inventive aural cocktail – or, as they refer to it, post-Brexitcore. Because everything’s post-something and everything is something-core. As such, it’s perfect. Moreover, a month on from the referendum and the reality of what the future may bring is still sinking in. Recent weeks have brought political and financial turmoil, a terrifying upsurge in racism and hate crimes and if only one thing is certain, it’s that Britain is a nation horribly divided. But for a short time, everything is ok. In this small corner of Leeds, thanks to great bands and cheap beer, there is no disunity, and life is good. Hail the Living Body!
Aural Aggravation 