The Friday Dispatch
Samia, Kate Hutchinson, Triples, Momma and more
Samia’s fight against the impossible ideal
For Samia, songwriting has always been a form of therapy: “I started writing because I was angsty and upset as a pre-teen. It was a puberty outlet, and that’s how I learned to process my feelings,” she says. That tone earned her a cult following and critical acclaim. Audiences came to love her cutting, honest, and masterful vignettes. Her debut, The Baby, now sits in the indie coming-of-age canon; the follow up, Honey, a formidable companion. But if those first two records saw an adolescent become an adult, Bloodless – released today – sees an adult become themself.
“I was thinking about a tendency I had to try to make myself incredibly small, or to give as little information about myself as possible so that I could become whatever someone else wanted to project onto me,” Finnerty says. Bloodless was born of trying to unpack and unlearn that tendency: “I tried to sustain an existence as an idea. Whether that be their dream girl or their worst nightmare, I would just be whatever anyone wanted me to be at all times. And I was like: That’s gotta stop. It’s good for connection. It doesn’t foster real relationships.”
“I think with this album, I tried to let myself be angry,” Finnerty says. Writing anger – allowing yourself to feel it – requires coming to the table from a place of strength, one that’s often harder to tap into and one that’s also often discouraged. Bloodless, for Finnerty, was about unshackling herself from those ideological chains. “I have this thing where I won’t get angry unless it could be justified in a court of law,” she explains. “I go through the whole thing in my brain and I measure everyone else’s opinions and I won’t open my mouth until I’m absolutely certain I’m right. But with this one, I tried to let some things fly. And I listened to a lot of Fiona Apple, so that helps."
Out this week, we have Bells Larsen’s Blurring Time; Samia’s Bloodless; Emma-Jean Thackray’s Weirdo; William Tyler’s Time Indefinite; Lyn Lapid’s Buzzkill; and Wishy’s Planet Popstar EP.
Desk Notes: Kate Hutchinson
Kate Hutchinson is a music journalist, DJ, presenter, and the host of the new podcast Studio Radicals.
“The star attraction of my desk is the river view, a sliver of unkempt countryside at the edge of Hackney. I love it so much that sometimes it’s hard to tear myself away; I love hearing snatches of people’s random conversations as they walk by; the swans; the piratey boats chugging up and down and the scent of their log fires. I show pop stars I meet on Zoom–check out my river! I imagine myself as a wizened old crone, bottom fused to my desk chair, looking out of this window for all eternity. It’s an amazing place to daydream — but I do have to be careful or I won’t get anything done.
Microphone + tabletop stand. I have two of these Audio-Technica shotgun microphones and they come everywhere with me when I’m making podcasts on location, or at home.Listen, I know you’ve all seen video clips of people with little spherical mics on mic arms having podcast chats, but these are like little boom mics: the quality is lush and they’re directional, so they drown out most background noise.
Windowsill–pot with plant / candlestick holder / vase with handles. Like anyone in their thirties who lives in east London, I have recently become obsessed with ceramics. These creations are all by my friend and former neighbour Robyn, who gave me these pieces when she moved out of our block. She can throw a pot like no other!
Bose Quiet Comfort II. My life is divided into the time before I had these headphones andthe time after. It figures that someone who’s been writing about music for 20+ years andDJing is either a/ partially deaf from all the loud gigs or b/ hyper-sensitive to noise and I am,weirdly, both. These headphones have a gentle little hiss in them that tune out irritating sounds so I can really zone into listening, which is especially helpful for going through podcast edits.
Desk: I guess you could say my interior vibe sticks one finger up to the Modern House and longs for the mid-2000s maximalism of The Selby. Most of my furniture is thrifted or fromFacebook Marketplace, which I am almost as obsessed with as I am with music. I can find almost anything on there–even, once, a boyfriend (he bought a sofa from me). This old Ercol plank table, also my dining table, is very wide so I can fit even more junk on it.
Coffee accoutrements. I wouldn’t say I was snooty about coffee–I’ll drink any old gravy water–but as a woeful caffeine addict, I need to be near a cafetiere at all times or I start toget a bit twitchy. The mug is by my first ever boss at Time Out’s very talented daughter, Juliette Swindells.
Box of doom. The cables graveyard lives on my desk, which is usually where I’ll also find spare USBs for DJing, batteries and manky old lip balms. This is the content you wanted, right?
Box of tissues. Safety first. Hay fever season is upon us after all.
Promo CDs. I know what you’re thinking: but she’s a music journalist! Where are the speakers! What about the endless piles of CDs? My decks and the records are behind me, against another wall, but there’s always a box under my desk of promos waiting to be sorted through. This stash is just for show-sorry!
Like any self respecting writer, there are piles of books all over my flat that I haven’t read.But my desk is where all the reference stuff I need for articles lives, or books that my smart friends have written. I’m currently hoovering up Lanre Bakare’s We Were There, an amazing document of Black culture and resistance in the UK, and Alice Vincent’s Hark: How WomenListen (the Q&A of which I’m hosting at Rough Trade East on 28 April).
Bird whistle. I bought this from a market stall at the top of a mountain in Quito, Ecuador. No one has been able to make a nice sound out of it yet.”
Broken Social Scene have announced a new covers version of their iconic record, Your Forgot It in People. The first track — a Maggie Rogers / Sylvan Esso version of “Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl” — is already out now, with the rest to follow on June 6. In honour of the occasion, we’re bringing it back to 2005 with an archival live radio performance and interview the band did on KCRW to promote their self-titled record.
The introduction…
Meet Triples – aka Toronto-based band headed by Eva Link – making 90s and 00s-inspired pop perfection.
Describe your sound… My band Triples makes rocky pop music with jangly guitars and heavy harmonies.
How you started making music… When I was 15 I went to Girls' Rock Camp in my hometown and formed a band with some friends I met there. I have been writing songs and playing in bands ever since.
Your favourite Toronto spot… The Three Speed is the comfiest restaurant where I can always count on having a fun night.
Something currently on your mood board… Courtney Love just posted a bunch of stuff for sale on her Depop (the account has since been deleted) but I took note of things on her page - escentric molecules perfume, vintage The Replacements-shirts...good stuff.
All good pop songs… Sound like they could be in the opening or closing credits of a movie.
Listen to Triples on Spotify now.
Something Old, Something New
Every week, we share recommendations from the Best Fit community — one from the past, another from the present. This week, writer Sophie Walker shares her thoughts on King Krule’s The OOZ (2017) and Momma’s Welcome to My Blue Sky (2025).
The OOZ carries the sickly-sweet stench of rot. It entices you with its closing-time blues, somnambulant 90s hip-hop beats and dreamy jazz arrangements. And then it repulses you. Hooks melt into sticky puddles, crescendos collapse, and Archy Marshall’s voice – that diseased drawl – builds to a howl that is as monstrous as it is lonely. The third record under the moniker King Krule has got a hold on me these days. It staggers through a warped projection of South East London – the haunts Marshall and I share – in “those blue hours”. I spend more time than ever wandering through it with this album in my ears, and I see this corner of the city through his dream-logic. Things start to take on ghoulish, endlessly fascinating shapes. “Biscuit Town” – named as the darker twin of Bermondsey – opens with the rhythmic, still-hot hiss of a train line. It’s a sound so natural to my daily life that to hear it in isolation feels like a greater act of storytelling about this city than words could capture. The OOZ has done a strange thing. It feels like home.
Momma makes me feel like I’m crushing palma violets between my teeth; a sweetness that only seems to exist in girlhood which I haven’t tasted since. The band is a pinky-promise pact between Allegra Weingarten and Etta Friedman, and though now in their early twenties, Welcome to My Blue Sky is a coming-of-age memoir which renders endless summers, feverish uncertainty, and once-possible dreams in the same technicolour in which they were felt as a teenager. In shorthand, this is a grunge pop album, but I prefer the ways Nina Corcoran captures the feeling on Pitchfork: “crushed velvet or vintage corduroy”. There’s this line that has stuck with me on “My Old Street”: “Mom was getting drunker / And she’s talking like she’s younger / She told me that she missed out on her dreams / And we both miss sixteen” – and the song is huge, the blue sky has never felt so big, and I feel sick when I realise the world is only getting smaller.
Listen to the week in new music by following our Discovery playlist
Dropping at midnight every Thursday, follow our playlist for a taste of the best new music from the most exciting breaking artists. Leading the selection this week are new tracks from Teo Planell, Annie-Claude Deschênes, child3, she’s green, Amber Grimbo, and coverstars Spawner.
“I feel like I’ve surpassed Addison Rae. It’s just Addison now.”