Canadian Paul Murphy of Wintersleep branches out with
his brother to create the deeply personal Postdata
The self titled, self released debut came out JUST yesterday!
Press Falls In Love...
"...Absolute perfection. There’s folk music and then there’s real folk music. This album taught me the difference.....Buy this album, plug it in to your surround sound, turn off the phone, lock the doors, and cultivate the innocent and playful person you were meant to be..."
"This tune, “Tobias Grey” has a deep acoustic tone, but a wintry vocal that one can only associate with a group from the vast wilderness that is Canada. It’s a short tune, but one rich in emotion, so listen til the end..."
Austin Town Hall
For the time being, all that we really need to consider right now is that Postdata is a beautifully-realised piece of work which has set an early high watermark for anyone considering making an album of acoustic laments this year."
Charts en Grafs
"it’s a hushed collection of acoustic folk songs overlayed with spacy electronics....This is one for the morning after."
"Postdata is the raw product of the unapologetically honest words of Paul Murphy. Don’t let the band name fool you; Postdata are not your typical electronic loving affair, but rather an acoustic heavy offering with the barest of human emotion fueling Murphy’s memorable vocal melodies and lyrics"
Exploding In Sound
"Like good music should, each of these songs forces a connection on the listener..."
It’s lovely, sparse, extremely gentle"
Indie Rock Reviews
"I’ve discovered the perfect soundtrack for getting lost in your own thoughts: Postdata.....I would highly recommend you search it out"
Quick Before It Melts
"I discovered a perfect album to accompany my many recent evenings of contemplation.... a collection of deeply personal songs destined for winter's slow and sleepy progressions..."
Speakers In Code
"The melodies are consistently strong, and couching them in stark arrangements intermittently enhanced by tranquil swells of distortion works. Lyrically, Postdata is a little scattershot, capable of switching from amusingly dry and personal recollections..."
"The songs sound like stripped down Wintersleep tunes, which isn't a bad thing..."
Who Killed The Mixtape
"It is mostly acoustic, with occassional swells, a collection of gentle songs..."
Berkley Place Blog
“Nick Drake meets the Red House Painters”
"Simply perfect..." 5/5
Music Is Amazing
These are the words of Paul Murphy.
You may know him from the Juno Award winning Canadian band Wintersleep and you may feel drawn to the haunted melodies of Postdata as you are drawn to the puzzling pieces of your own dreams. With questions like “Are you in outer space?” and musings about “Fallen stars in the big black belly of the Universe?” Postdata floats above the terra firma where “expired antibiotics” and “empty spray cans” inhabit the planet.
From this vantage point of dream flight an otherworldly vision of what ties us to our own gravity emerges. "In Chemicals" asks if we can be “disinfected” and“resurrected”, "Tracers" is “ten thousand pages in the wind”, “trading eyes for rocks and sand”, and "Tobias Grey" is “post it notes randomly placed”. "Drift" talks about names written in the concrete that were “meant to be read” and just as the waking world starts to creep back in "The Coroner" seems to want the listener to stay safe in reverie as the words “lie down with me” repeat.
Sometimes we have to close our eyes to see. Times like these.
What is Postdata?
These are my grandparents. They passed away two years ago and left me thirty or forty pieces of songs in a series of dreams, not Coleridge-esque opium dreams though unfortunately, just regular dreams. Kinda sad dreams. This is for them.
This is their daughter, my mother. I call her mom though, not mother. This is for her.
This is my father. Sometimes he feels left out. This is for you too dad.
This is my stomach.
This is me.
I started working on this record a couple of years ago at my parents' house in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia with my brother Michael.
This is Michael.
We had a little too much time on our hands. Some scotch too. We wanted to make a present for mom. She'd had a tough year. With little preparation (a laptop, no microphones, click tracks, or even tuners come to think of it), we recorded about 12 ideas and we went our separate ways.
Eight months later we found a free weekend in Halifax and tried the same thing, reworking a cluster of songs from the first session and adding four extra songs to the workload. We used the same laptop, but this time we rented actual, real microphones and we used click tracks for a few songs and tuners for the most part. We think. Maybe a little less scotch this time around.
Some of the songs turned out to be fuller and more mature after a second take, better than expected. Other songs maybe didn't quite hit the mark. But the recording as a whole, the half-finished, early conception somewhat fragmented material, seems to do something quite nice.
Hope you like it.