Nebular

Roy Montgomery, a key figure in the experimental underground rock scene, lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, just a short drive from the sea. Avant-garde vocalist and songwriter Martha Skye Murphy is based in London. Though geographically worlds apart, the pair inhabit an intimate and almost tactile shared sonic world. Their collaboration feels transformative, like the gradual shifting spell from night to day. What draws them together is the emotional force of each other’s music. Montgomery’s cyclical, decaying compositions are shaped through intricate guitar and piano work, blending post-rock, folk, and drone. Murphy, meanwhile, possesses a rare gift for transformation, from the intimate cracked whispers of ‘At Dawn’ to the hypnotic drift of ‘The Play of Dark and Light’. On the latter, she evokes old maritime folk tales of fishermen lured into the darkness by the sea’s siren call. The song both seduces and warns, finding something magical and frightening in the temptation of drowning. Though her vocals often resemble fragments of words, consonants, or vowels, they frequently function as pure sound, drawing on glossolalia and prioritising feeling over any ‘learnt’ language. Emotion and intuition are the driving forces behind Nebular, an album that oscillates between the intimate with the unknown. This spirit is reflected in its artwork. Murphy shared a painting by Irish artist Simon English depicting a solitary house bathed in dusky blue light, and the pair quickly settled on it as the cover image. Both were captivated by its atmosphere. Montgomery related it to the isolated, seemingly uninhabited houses he encounters while travelling through rural New Zealand-places that inspire a desire to knock on the door and discover what lies beyond. “Terra incognita springs to mind. A search into the unknown,” Murphy agrees. The nocturnal and remote nature of the artwork mirrors the process of making Nebular. With Montgomery in New Zealand and Murphy in London, the album was created entirely through remote correspondence, with stems exchanged via email. Their messages were often written and read at different times of day, and, because of the time difference and the demands of daily life, replies usually were sent late at night and the music too often composed at nocturnal hours. Their exchanges took on the quality of pen pals sending letters across great distances. This suspended sense of time is echoed in Nebular’s sound, with its feeling of temporal drift and timelessness. On Nebular, Montgomery and Murphy have harnessed raw emotion and launched it into a time capsule bound for the stars. It allows you to drift, to be present, and to feel; creating something timeless.