Wim

One of the best things about L.A. is the sheer aggregate amount of interesting music you can stumble into on any given night -- and not just on stages.

On Saturday night I'd ambled over to Bardot (its Saturday night Lo Hi Fi series is sneakily becoming a supremely fun live engagement every week) to catch the disco-revivalist quartet Love Grenades, whom I've somehow never seen before. Given how just about every popular varietal of dance-based music is getting constantly updated in the pop, R&B and indie worlds today, it was kind of refreshing to see a band play the earlier eras so straight. There was ESG, there was Moroder, there was Blondie, and the band's severe singer Liz Wight just dares you to look away from her.

But the even better surprise was a chance conversation with a virtuosically bedraggled quintet of Australians in town making their first full-length album. They're called Wim, "as in Wim Wenders," they said, which might make it the most pretentious three-letter band name in music history. But their sound is a fantastic revision of the meandering, sylvan folk of Grizzly Bear with the bleary tenor of Scott Walker and four-part harmonies tight enough to hang your laundry on. I feel like I need to go fall in love and then get unceremoniously dumped this weekend just so I can have the proper setting to listen to their spooky torch ballad "John" while plowing through a bottle of Macallan. And good lord, do they look the part too -- singer Martin Solomon probably doesn't get up for breakfast without first putting on a half-dozen fur and feather accouterments and eye glitter.

They're really young and have some filling out to do arrangement-wise, but if they stick around in L.A. they should make fast friends with Entrance, Hecuba and Devendra Banhart. I heartily propose they do so, if only for my own selfish motives of wanting to see them live many, many times in the near future.

-- August Brown - LA Times

Red Rattler Marrickville, February 5th 2010
Tucked away in a warehouse space in deepest, darkest Marrickville, three hundred people gathered for what can only be described as a positively eclectic mix of performers culminating in the live rendition of the new EP by local band Brackets.

Second on stage was Sydney band Wim, a five piece which mix quite classically folk-ish roots with contemporary pop twinges. The result is fully developed lush songs with rich, emotive developments. In their live form, the strength of vocalist Martin Solomon is evident. He provides variation in tone and volume, which adds to the vocal intent. Instrumentation is understated, which allows pitch-perfect harmonies throughout the group.

Track “John” demonstrates keyboardist Simon Jankelson’s innate musical sensibility, whilst Saul Wodak’s subtle, measured guitar accompaniment allow the vocals to shine in “Diamond”. Bassist Dustin Bookatz and drummer Harry Thyne are restrained in establishing an atmospheric percussive line. At a time when live acts are noted for their percussion sections, their nuanced, cohesive contributions are a testament to the groups’ understanding of balance within track composition.

The crowd present are one of the most relaxed groups to grace a gig in recent memory, and a group dances, sings and sways in front of the stage, whilst others relax and enjoy the upbeat refrain of “Something for You”. By the time the band leaves the stage, there is a mutual feeling of relaxed happiness induced by both band and beer. - Is A Punk Rocker

Mumford & Sons in Australia brought with them the concept of Communion. A regular indie-folk night, the collective was established in London some years ago, and has been responsible for supporting acts such as Laura Marling, Noah and the Whale and indeed Mumford & Sons. As the brainchild of Mumford keyboardist Ben Lovett and member of Cherbourg, Kevin Jones, Ben sought to bring the collective to Australia to support the booming nouveau-folk scene. As part of this, we were treated to a launch night at Goodgod presenting some of the most exciting emerging groups in Sydney.

Performing first were Wim, a Sydney quintet blending the familiarity of the folk scene with a timeless, international sound which distinguishes them. Lead singer Martin Soloman’s voice is tender and lilting, with an effortless power fusing perfectly with guitarist Saul Wodak’s harmonies, creating an almost whale-song chant which emotes throughout track I’ll Be There Anytime.
Keyboardist Simon Jankelson switches to accordion to provide an intro to John which makes you feel you should be slow dancing in the sweaty streets of 1950’s Cuba. Blessed with a captivating on-stage presence and endearing demeanour, Wim’s sound is adventurous without being indulgently experimental, and makes them a band to watch in 2010. They may just be my favourite discovery of the new year. - The AU Review