There’s a difference between someone being weird and someone being otherworldly and ethereal. On your first listen, you can probably guess what your feelings are going to be like about all of Die Hexen’s material on whether you categorise her work in the former or the latter. Whereas it’s not uncommon for other artists to encompass similar soundscapes to Manchester’s D Lucille, most try and add a certain pop edge to make these bizarre reverberations a little more accessible – but not Lucille, no way.
Other acts you could compare her to are Grimes – though without Boucher’s sometimes-kawaii, pop-culture edge – and the forever enchanting Zola Jesus. But there’s a certain distance in all of Die Hexens recordings that seems to draw the listener in more – as if these tracks weren’t recorded on a mac book in some Chorlton bedroom (probably) but were done so on some Lunar landscape (which would be impressive, given sound-muting qualities of a vacuum, but whatever)
Most interesting – for me at least – is that there is no-one in the region doing anything even remotely like her. The North – and the North-West in particular – is famous for rearing boys with guitars making indie music. It’s a curse, but one we have to live with. In D Lucille and her music, we have hope of a brighter future, a more challenging, interesting narrative waiting to be written by a woman and some difficult (but not unpleasant) synth.
Die Hexen plays The Angel Centre for Trash-O-Rama