Woozer

God Knows

Going Home

Hup To

I Love You Too, Disembodied Voice

Mountain Goat

It's a Pattern

An ode to the neuroses of the daily grind, which, much like its subject matter, was put on hold by COVID-19. 

Out on Spotify / Apple Music/ the others on June 19th.
Pre-save on Spotify at https://ffm.to/commuterpresave

Commuter

U-209

It all begins with the blues. That’s where musician Iain Henderson got their start: among the smattering of pubs and music hideouts in their hometown of Alcester, Warwickshire. At the age of 16, Henderson gravitated towards bass guitar and banjo while flirting with creating pixel art. As their design career earned a cult following, their music production choices began to match that extracurricular. Armed with an arsenal of synths, drum patches, and a library of found sound, their wood ewe moniker strikes a careful balance between electronic wanderlust and organic harmony.
While 2020 put ambitions of transforming this project into a full-fledged live act on hold, the textural exploration on wood ewe’s self-titled debut EP is transportative on its own. Constructed shortly in isolation after moving away to university, songs burst with needs for connection and understanding in a confusing, vague new place. “God Knows” openly tackles this concern by anchoring the difficulty of maintaining friendships in a digital age to nature sounds and unpredictable percussive accents. The darkness of not understanding pervades elsewhere, too. “Bonfire March” conjures up visions of burning witches to align with last year’s fires in Manchester, and the choppy and industrial “Woozer” unpacks the pain of being let down before exploding in fireworks of twirling piano and lush orchestral embellishments.
Due in November 2020, wood ewe’s forthcoming I Love You Too, Disembodied Voice continues Henderson’s routines. “Commuter” showcases their bass pedigree as it slinks through keyboards and a flurry of avant-jazz and post-punk, detailing the scenery whirring past in fragments. “U-209” is waterlogged by the mystique of German submarines in World War II, while “Mountain Goat” places listeners in the heart of disaster, where tickling synth trails and layered drums punctuate unanswered questions and the pang of unresolved closure. Above all, the release earns its name from the close relationships Iain formed online while isolated. While loneliness and misery trickles through wood ewe’s songwriting, the hope of coming together prevails about all. If you could imagine a world without distance, would you?
~Bio by James Cassar.

Contact - woodewemusic@gmail.com