JOHN MAUS

John Maus lives in his birthplace of Austin, Minnesota. Whilst working towards his PhD in Political Science he also composes music that taps into melancholic fantasy and affirms that we are all truly alive. Questing synthesisers, tensely strung bass lines and chasing drum machines providing the perfect backdrop for John's deeply resonant reverb-drenched vocal. Born in the decade of synth pop and sharing his birthday with George Frideric Handel, John started making music when Nirvana posters went up on every teenager’s wall. It’s this curious conflux of influences that partially helps to describe John’s music. It’s a world where the Germs jam with Jerry Goldsmith, Cabaret Voltaire relocate to Eternia and Josquin des Prez writes a new score for RoboCop. The confrontation of punk, the fleeting poignancy of 80’s movie soundtracks, the insistent pulse of Moroder and the spirituality of Medieval and Baroque music all find salvation in John Maus.

After a spell working alongside Ariel Pink (whom Maus met whilst studying at Cal Arts in Los Angeles) and Gary War in Haunted Graffiti, 2006 saw the release of John’s debut album proper through Upset The Rhythm. It was a record permeated with aching memories; a perfect testimony to lost romance and longing. It’s awe-inspired follow-up ‘Love Is Real’ (released on UTR, 2007) proved a more cohesive listen in terms of focus and emotional depth. Like an apocalyptic journey through the nostalgic streets of a common hometown, deep into the recesses of the human heart, ‘Love Is Real’ still stands out as an impressive whole. Both albums made an impact which grew and grew during some quieter academic years for Maus in the Hawaiian heat, before he returned last year to the heavy snows of the Midwest to finish album number three, ‘We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves’.

"We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves" breaks new ground for Maus. The shirt pulling and air punching of his impassioned live performance is finally captured in all its frenzied appeal alongside a tender inner space. After stretching muscles with opener ‘Streetlight’, arpeggiators bubble up to new levels with ‘Quantum Leap’, a song full of dead zones, glancing slaps and oscillating solos. "Heart to heart, mind to mind, we are the ones who seem to travel through time", intones Maus resolutely through the mist. John’s lyrics are as likely to touch upon themes of Cronenberg gore just as much as the musings of Jacques Rancière. It’s this no-brow approach that makes things interesting, casting Maus as a savant and allowing his music to startle us in ways whereby we open up to the unimaginable.