McKenzie Stubbert

This morning I am listening to a collection of fragile, intimate, and lightly sparkling tracks by McKenzie Stubbert, an Emmy-nominated and AMP Award-winning composer from Los Angeles. Most of the pieces feature a 1949 Acrosonic piano which is “riddled with aches and clicks and sputters“, sometimes sounding as if it was a prepared instrument with all of its mechanical percussive elements [often reminding me of Hauschka]. There are many emotional moments on the record, often transmitting solitude, melancholy, and even despair. Titled Waiting Room, the album and its cover art capture a particular time and space when we are left a little helpless, and all we could do is listen to the universe trying to tell us something so that things can finally resolve. Just yesterday, my friend Brian Housmann premiered a track called “Err” on his fantastic Stationary Travels site, describing it as “a hauntingly atmospheric piece built around two overlapping piano parts that blossom into what seems like a quiet explosion of rueful self-awareness.” Today, I’m sharing a video by Habitual Loss, which perfectly captures the tension of the atmosphere, creating a “narrative of our two protagonists… sisters, spectres, or lovers… trapped somewhere in-between this world and the next…” Here, Brian’s previously quoted description of “a hauntingly atmospheric piece” is especially apt as it takes the listener and the viewer into a very different, unobservable world. It’s a mesmerising short you won’t want to miss…