diane marie kloba

Every so often something comes along that literally makes you sit up, you wonder where it came from, there’s no identifiable references to jump out in an instant, no bandwagon its hopped on or fancy press release prose telling you it’s your new favourite thing whilst simultaneously listing a tired and well-worn roll call of artists who’ve inspired its journey. Instead it arrives fully formed, strange, eerie and without a sonic compass point, its sparse mystic tonalities finding their way through a seductively smoky psych folk fog that twists and shape shifts crookedly spell crafting a curious enchantment upon all who fall beneath its glare. And while Diane Marie Kloba mightn’t sound anything remotely like say, Karen Dalton or Vashti Bunyan, there’s a unique out of step and out of time song craft presence here to suggest she shares a common free spiritedness with these two hallowed icons whilst similarly imbibing of the kind of distractive rule book shredding style of a youthful Polly Harvey. This is the mysterious ‘I am the sweeper’ – enjoy.


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