Angelo De Augustine's renewal

I've been noticing death a lot recently. I don't mean that to be morbid, although I suppose it has to be. First a relative of a close friend, a colleague's aunt, a lovely man I worked with over the past couple of years, the drummer from one of my favourite bands. Loss seems particularly cruel at this time of year, with Winter beginning to recede and Spring on the cusp of beginning.

That's the cycle of things, though, and it's the only we cycle we'll ever be a part: renewal on both a large and tenderly small scale. We all arrive and we all depart. Sometimes it does well to be reminded of such things, of the time we have and don't have.

I was thinking of this when listening to the new Angelo De Augustine song; his first new music since 2023's Toil & Trouble LP, an album which followed the collaborative collection he and Sufjan Stevens released all the way back in 2021, and which graced Issue 10 of our printed publication.

Both have had their share of illness complications in the time since then, both sing and speak beautifully to such things. Angelo's own story of renewal begins to unfold now, with the release of Angel in Plainclothes, a new ten-song LP that will take its place in the world once Spring is here; released via Sufjan's Asthmatic Kitty label on April 24th.

“When I made Toil and Trouble I was in a really bad state, having just been released from the hospital and only about halfway through the recording of the album," Angelo writes in the album's introduction. "I had accepted that I was going to die and that I should do all I could to finish the record. I didn't believe that I was going to survive the illness, let alone ever make music again. The experience unfortunately broke me and everything that I thought that I knew or could count on,” he goes on to say. “With this new record, I’m trying to pick up the pieces of who I was and figure out who I am now. I am on a journey where I feel like I may have been given a second chance at life, and I’d like to live it.”

This new version of his story begins with 'Mirror, Mirror', the album's slightly offbeat and hugely, warmly captivating lead single. The song's roots can be found in experimental layering of sound – the drone-like textures beneath it all coming courtesy of a zither-like instrument known as a bowed psaltery – and just that simple shift gives fresh life to Angelo's signature sound. This slight skewing of his more conventional, tried-and-trusted approach, covers his voice and entire musical world with a subtle new glow, a new type of light. We can call it the changing of a season; new colours are beginning to bloom and they hold the light.

Something about the strings and that shuffling, skittish percussion that runs through it, reminds me of those early Iron & Wine records, where beautiful details emerged over time and repeated listens, where deeper stories lay half-hidden in the dry grasses. The whole thing is mesmerising, though, not just because of the story which sits within, not just because of the cycles it sings so beautifully to – but the song lands a little heavier for their presence. It's where it grows from.

I see a red rose under the sky
That floats like a cloud in the mind of a child
I watch the world and never open my eyes
I wear this mask but it’s not a disguise
There’s no one to hide

Thank you for choosing to be here. I hope you enjoy listening.