Introduced by chance in a London house share and confined by stringent Covid-19 restrictions, Louis Giannamore and Jenny Ames quickly bonded over a shared love of early Renaissance music, black metal, and Björk. Amid the bleak reality of a winter lockdown, the pair found a space for creative collaboration unencumbered by deadlines or expectations, fuelled by the catharsis of childlike experimentation.
The result is Barkum Deer, a dense half-hour trip into a sonic landscape of bass-rich drones punctuated by anxious strings and skittering electronic flourishes. In creating music simply for its own sake, Barkum Deer have arrived at an album that reflects the duality of its age: its claustrophobic tension and its gentle solitude. In spite of its origins, or perhaps because of them, Barkum Deer is ultimately a joyful record; a document to the possibility of contentment in isolation and a testament to the power of cooperation.
Photo: Roxy Hervé