Day 109: Barry Can’t Swim – Loner

Boy am I having a day. I don’t know if it’s the flu or if I’m just tired, but I’m struggling so much with making a decision that I’ve spent about an hour trying to decide what to listen to. I don’t know if I’ll be able to actually write anything above the level of “album good” or “album bad, Kat not like” but frankly, when can I ever.

Album cover courtesy of Ninja Tune

I’ve wanted to feature more Scottish artists in places where I’m writing, and I put a bit of Barry Can’t Swim in my end of the year round up list. I love the song “Kimpton” but I hadn’t gotten around to listening to his full sophomore album yet, so today was as good as any.

Barry Can’t Swim, or Joshua Mainnie, is a DJ and producer from Edinburgh. His 2023 debut record When Will We Land? landed him on a few lists of album of the year and got him shortlisted for a Mercury Prize. His new release Loner is a result of the global fame that he found in the past few years and his experience of trying to fit in Josh with his public persona as Barry, saying:

If my first album was a collage of all the music I loved and was inspired by growing up, then this album is the most authentic expression I could offer of myself and my life over the past year.

A few months after he released his first single, the UK went into lockdown, and Joshua/Barry emerged from the covid years as someone who struggled to be around other people but who also had to do live performances as a DJ. I spent a good long time not even able to go to a grocery store without feeling like I’m having a panic attack, if anyone had told me “time to hop on stage for the first time ever!” I’m pretty sure I would have spontaneously combusted.

I’ve never really thought about how disorienting coming out of lockdown must have been for the artists who made a name for themselves during that time, going into the house as just a guy and emerging a few years later as someone famous. Loner goes through some of the emotions that came with this whirlwind fame that he’s had over the past few years.

The record opens with an AI-sounding audio about the changes he has gone through recently. Then, from the aforementioned euphoric and almost slightly nostalgic piano house song “Kimpton” to the pulsing, anticipatory  “About to Begin” that I bet would be phenomenal live, it seems to focus a bit more on the good parts of what has happened. “Still Riding” continues in that vein, and it’s one of my favourites on the record.

 The end of the album is a bit less upbeat and more introspective. “Cars Pass By Like Childhood” is a bittersweet break up tune and “Machine Noise for a Quiet Daydream” featuring Séamus is a monologue-y dream of a song. I’ve never before thought about what the words “the Dao” sounded like in a thick Scottish accent, which I think means I haven’t been to the right kind of afters.

Album good. Kat like. Great tunes and what he’s working through on the songs is interesting. 8/10.