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You can also switch the display between notes or music intervals. Select from 8 commonly available Diatonic tunings (Major, Natural Minor, Harmonic Minor, Melody maker, Country, Diminished, Powerbender, or Suzuki Ultrabend Sub30) or 7 Chromatic Tunings (Standard/Solo, Bebop, C6, C6 Bebop, Diminished, Augmented, or Whole Tone), all 12 Keys, 18 Scales, and 5 Chord types (Maj, Min, 7th, Aug, Dim). The Tuning Dojo is where you can visualize all the notes on a diatonic (10-hole) harmonica or 12-Hole Chromatic. On Boozy, Glacier seems to put it best herself: “I’m not better, I’m just different.HarpNinja supports your harmonica learning independent of whatever method you are using. Yet, for an artist that is so seemingly insular, she has managed to create a language that is emphatically universal a work that communicates the mercurial nature of the human condition with an unaffected ease. Instead, it’s a project that feels acutely personal, capturing and refracting mutable emotional states. This is not an album that is glossy nor refined – deliberately so. Throughout, Glacier’s vocals are muffled and slightly distorted, as if recorded through a VHS camera, creating a sense of comforting familiarity. All of this is underpinned by a limber production style that invokes everything from early 00s hip-hop and R&B nostalgia (Timing) to pointillist, video game-inspired soundtracks ( Cryptomnesia). A resolutely deadpan delivery hides striking tonal shifts, moving from moments of startling clarity (the scene-setting of Trelawny Waters’ “Sublet in Norwood/ Outside of town”) to experiments with religious iconography, most notably on Platoon, as Glacier raps, “ Gabriel cover me” before landing on the haunting image of “ empty souls in a jar”. Nowhere is this more evident than in her distinctive stream-of-consciousness art-raps. And it’s within these conditions that Glacier’s imagination flourishes. There are no features here, further heightening the contained, closed-off aura. She’s aided by Vegyn and a handful of trusted producers, who, across 12 tracks, establish a late night mood that rankles and unsettles. Whereas most information about her is locked away, the music on her debut album knows when to obscure, and crucially, when to reveal.

SHILOH: Lost for Words feels like a natural waypoint in her journey so far. This was when she wasn’t appearing on tracks with artists like Ragz Originale and LYAM, which now read like glimmers of intent, closely guarded.

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Before her full-length debut, Glacier’s music consisted of choppy demos posted on a throwaway SoundCloud account, full of snippets of self-produced beats, synths and odd samples. John Glacier is an artist known to be deeply elusive, a rapper-poet hybrid from east London who tends to shun publicity (her Instagram bio simply reads, “I have no name nor number”). Sometimes, this means revealing the most intimate aspects of their lives – what they eat, who they love – or risk getting lost, a casualty of the metrics of visibility.Īnd then there are the outliers who decide when to be seen, on their own terms. These days, we expect artists to dance across every social media channel for recognition. Over the last two years, the desire to connect has often been expressed through the urge to share. John Glacier SHILOH: Lost for Words PLZ Make It Ruins