"I was always into old calypso music. All those guys had names like Lord Invader. I thought that looked cool.

And Youth seems to be a commodity that we worship today above all else. It just came one day".

Lord Youth about Lord Youth LORD YOUTH is, for the moment, the obscure project of Micah (pronounced: my-kah) Blaichman from Queens, NY.

Following a self-titled vinyl 10" EP with 6 songs and the 2 track single pril25th' (2 videos + digital) ray Gardens' is his debut full-length album, released Sept 2017 through BB*ISLAND.

LORD YOUTH will perform at the Reeperbahnfestival, Hamburg Germany at the end of September and preparations are underway for more concerts in Europe around that time.

"a songwriter of not inconsiderable talent... dark, ghostly gravitational downbeat etudes." German Rolling Stone Music as blue as the album's cover.

Like twilight, there's a soft radiance in every dark corner. The voice dry as a rough red wine, bits of acoustic guitars, slide, twang and mallets all used sparingly.

Ghostly keyboard sounds, like a flying curtain all over it. Poltergeist-drums; tick-tock percussion, like the sound from a broken grandfather clock, commemorating progressing time, just before or after witching hour.

Lord Youth appears as a laconic master of imagination, of the blue hour. Micah Blaichman croones and wallows with smoky baritone through a heart heavy set noir of undefined origin.

Every now and then, he speeds up the pace, like the wake-up call start of "Plastic Bombs", the sketchy garage noise of "Moonbelly", or the rough americana rock'n'roll of "What's That Sound".

Either way: it is the reverberation of a monochrome pop past. His songs flash as crystal deposits in a shadow lining parade of forgotten gospels, permeated with undefined grief and the classicism of a lost song craft.

As muse Lord Youth cites the songs of Skip James, the CAN album Ege Bamyasi and literary the writings of William T.

Vollmann. Chiefly he recalls the discovery of a Chilton Talentmaker keyboard, an organ from the early seventies that produces sounds through light scanned from interchangeable optical discs.

By the same token the light changes in the studio, which on this occasion contained a large stained-glass window that bathed the room in reds and greens and blues.