Down in the dumps, stuck in a slump, sitting on my rump, nothing could make my soul jump and without a friend around for a fist bump. The heart felt like a lemon ice cream, bittersweet. Noah Slee spoke to something deep inside, with a voice so soulful and smooth it made a freshly shaven face feel rough.
You know what they say, if they’re from New Zealand and talented, we’ll claim them as an Aussie. It’s an unofficial mandate, but one that applies to Noah Slee.
Slee has supported Fat Freddy’s Drop, Low Leaf and Nai Palm of Hiatus Kaiyote. Originally from New Zealand, moving across to Brisbane and having spent time in Berlin, Slee has become a man of the world. This comes through in his music, as there is an empathy that feels like a nice, warm hug from someone who understands you. There’s a good vibe around Slee and is for fans of New Zealand’s Doprah or Australia’s Litany and Zone Out.
Noah Slee combines a soulful voice with an eclectic range of electronic sounds, the aural equivalent of a silver lining in grey clouds. Can’t Let Go is a track that reaches into the heart, massages the soul, and offers a sweet melancholy. Produced by German producer KitschKrieg, it’s a thoughtful track that gives the listener an empathic voice to cling to when consumed by darkness.
Then there’s a cover of TLC’s Waterfalls, done in a way that pays homage to the original brilliantly. Such a twirling beauty, making the world spin, imagine being in the middle of the bush in a swimming hole with no one around, just you or someone close to you, without the world to distract you from enjoying the beauty that a sore heart needs.
An exploration of finding hope in a struggle, Slee’s music is the equivalent of a compassionate heart that is worn on a tattered sleeve. Slee’s voice is almost philosophical in its tone, saying more that his lyrics give off. Slow, chilled, smooth, Slee makes it clear that sadness is a gift that is beautiful and teaches the listener that there’s a bright side to everything eventually. There’s a space between a smile and tear, and this is the space that Slee sits.
