July 2007
NME
Album review – Sing, Memory
7/10

Former Black Box Recorder vocalist Sarah Nixey’s solo debut is a record of contrasts, divided as it is into a dancier first half and an introspective second. Part one shimmers with complete confidence, submerging elements of Björk circa ‘Debut’, some light Ladytron, and early-’80s electro into the frosty calm of Nixey’s measured vocal, particularly on the alluring past single ‘Strangelove’. Later, ‘The Collector’ reveals a wave of vulnerability; a song which admits an addiction to a sinister impossible love described. The songs on ‘Sing, Memory’ are made all the more affecting by the crisp English accent that defined Sarah in her Black Box Recorder days. This unerringly self-assured record proves that she’s much better off on her own.

July 2007
Drowned in Sound
Single review – The Black Hit of Space
8/10

Music journalism is a responsible business, you know. It may seem trivial, of minor importance, but consider:

Here we have here a song called ‘The Black Hit of Space’ purporting to be a simple cover of the old Human League track sung by Sarah Nixey and presented as a slightly threatening art-pop concept single with a winningly hypnotic beat. The tune pulsates and fizzes, full of odd noises and stuttering static nicely counter pointed by Nixey’s crisp, pure Queen’s English pop pronunciation. The result is slightly melancholy and has a kind of resignedly unstoppable quality to it as the hard-to-cram-in words of the verse make way for the insistent and damn catchy chorus. All in all, a fitting and very enjoyable vehicle for the subject matter, and well worth seeking out.

BUT: what if this cover version is the invasion that the Human League’s original song was warning us of? What if Sarah Nixey is actually in the pay of dark forces, or indeed the very embodiment of said forces, and is cunningly using this apparently innocuous format to kick-start the most post-modern, self-referential threat to human existence that could possibly be imagined? What if I recommend you go and buy this… and then when enough people own it, human civilisation is destroyed and time itself is frozen in its tracks as the infinitely empty anti-sound annihilates the whole Universe? God, I’d feel so silly.

Ah, what the hell! Live a little: buy ‘The Black Hit of Space’, and stick it on yer stereo and dance like it’s the end of the world…

March 2007
Word Magazine

Goodbye Black Box Recorder, hello Sing, Memory

First, there’s her cutglass vocal: alluring, icy, and as devil-may care as a Machiavellian public schoolgirl who’d just flicked her hair, licked her lips, and sashayed away with your heart and your share options. “This is Sarah Nixey talking”, she sighs elegantly, by means of introduction; “some of the songs here are true and some tell lies; one or two are eager for impossible romance.” And then the former frontwoman of Luke Haines’ irrepressibly English, superbly sinister pop group Black Box Recorder takes us by the manicured hand into a world of butterfly collectors, labyrinths, masquerades and night shifts, every word simmering with exquisite ennui. A strange kind of electronic pop props them up, all malfunctioning keyboards, glitch and thump, making Nixey sound like Sophie Ellis Bextor’s evil twin. No song here is sublime, although the catchy pop of Endless Circles and When I’m Here With You’s diaphanous template for the electronic torchsong show the way forward. When this lady’s less weird, strangely enough, she’s wonderful.

- Jude Rogers

February 2007
Drowned in Sound

Album Review– Sing, Memory
8/10

Sarah Nixey was once of Black Box Recorder, but has of late been pursuing her own career as a slightly more traditional pop-songstress. To this end, she’s been writing/collaborating on songs which, although they still have a wry worldly wisdom to temper the romance, are less likely to contain choruses along the lines of “Life is unfair / Kill yourself or get over it”. She’s released a couple of singles already, and now her debut album, Sing, Memory, is ready for unleashing unto the world.

And you know what? It’s remarkably good. Taking the concept of escapism in pop very literally, it mixes electronic atmospherics, complexity and sophistication, tempered with an ear for a tune and a casual manipulation of the polish and clarity of pop to create a tangible feeling of otherworldliness. Listening to it gives one the sensation of having wandered into the soundscape of a film soundtrack; or into a very adult and cynical, yet still reluctantly romantic, fairytale world. It’s a window into an imaginary country full of unexpected metaphors, weird coincidences and glimpses of bizarre or poignant could-have-beens; a softly-spoken, blurred and trippy dreamworld.

Above the evocative atmospheric subtleties, woven from an instrumental fabric of bleeps, swooshings and dancing cross-rhythms, Nixey’s strong, clear vocals carry the weight of the tune and focus the emotions hinted at by the pop electronics. She has a sweet pop voice, ranging from alluring to heartbreaking to just a little too pure and detached to be anything but unworldly, and it matches these sophisticated electro melodies to perfection.

And I was on the verge of calling these songs catchy – but (with the honourable exception of single ‘Strangelove’) that’s not quite right. What they actually do is haunt you: play on your mind, get under your skin, and itch away at the back of your consciousness nagging you to play them again and to listen a bit more fully. It’s an elusive yet persistent form of compelling listen which may be far from the obvious tactics of the Big Hook, but which is nonetheless hard to resist. Although in my case, that may well be because I don’t want to resist – I’m quite happy to add Sing, Memory to my list of Habit-Formingly Good Pop Albums.

- Holliy

February 2007
MSN

Album Review– Sing, Memory

While Black Box Recorder might’ve been considered the brainchild of Luke Haines they really would’ve been nothing without Sarah Nixey. Her sweetly seductive Queen’s English dialect managed to convey, otherwise uncomfortable songs concerning motorway pile ups and prepubescent sexual fantasy with surprising grace and finesse.

Sing Memory finally introduces us to her own music and although the themes are patently more appetising than those that BBR ever dished out, Nixey’s songs are no less disturbing at times. Her biting lyrical content regarding spurned lovers and weirdo men in general makes a uniquely engaging experience, if an acidic one at times. Musically she’s opted for a brittle electronic accompaniment, it’s electro pop but with a heart as cold as a Baked Alaska.

By way of introduction Sarah’s confessional voice explains that there are ‘two sides to every story” before When I’m Here With You, a smoky and decidedly French flavoured highlight raises the red velvet curtain in considerable style. Sing Memory continues to weave a dark magic via the arpegiating Breathe In, Fade Out and delightfully sombre ballad Love & Exile, along with a suitably gloomy cover of Human League’s The Black Hit Of Space.

As with BBR’s finer work Nixey’s at her best at a more subdued pace. The faster, more dance orientated material inadvertently fall into the camp territory, a style that doesn’t truly compliment Sarah’s uber precise diction. But make no mistake this is a hauntingly sensual selection of ambient pop songs nonetheless.

February 2007
Plan B Magazine

Album Review– Sing, Memory

So, if Black Box Recorder were suburbia – rain on a Tuesday afternoon – then Nixey’s first solo album is the sound of the city at night – neon, Kraftwerk and chrome. Her voice is still as beautiful as an ice sculpture, but now she’s singing about upscale urban encounters rather than sordid affairs of the suburbs. Lyrically, the songs are dreamier, more pop in their eyes-to-the-heavens attitude. But don’t get me wrong – she still knows that when you’re in the city you’re only seeing the streetlights.

The songs are electro, or pop, or electropop some of them reminiscent of Kylie’s ‘I Believe In You’. The impression you’re left with is of something subtly hallucinatory, swimmy and strange, late nights and beautiful people, taste, decadence, discretion, perfect smiles, expensive cars, and something aching, wordless, behind it all.

- Ben Hoyle

In the studio: sarah nixey
We listened to: “Half Cousin’s new album Iodine. It’s strangely beautiful.”
We ate: “Poached shark with all the trimmings.”
We watched: “James trying to navigate his way through Second Life, the 3D digital world. He hasn’t quite mastered the software and his avatar walked around in his underpants while being hit on by a lady of the night. James spent rather too long trying to create a hairstyle and ended up with a mullet with several bald patches.”

February 2007
Q Magazine
***

Album Review– Sing, Memory

Black Box Recorder singer strikes out on her own.

“Some of these songs are true and some tell lies”, intones Sarah Nixey on the “prelude” to her solo debut. It’s a typically teasing intro from the singer best known for providing the female counterpoint to Luke Haines and John Moore in Black Box Recorder’s deliciously poisonous indie-pop ménage a trios. With a voice made for delivering stinging put-downs to eager young suitors at society balls, Nixey exploits her freedom to showcase a Euro-electro charisma on the enervated disco of Beautiful Oblivion and the surprising – and surprisingly good – cover of The Human League’s The Black Hit of Space.

- Victoria Segal

February 2007
www.hardwired.org.uk

Album Review– Sing, Memory
8/10

Sarah Nixey’s clear, cut-glass vocals first came to my attention when she was singer with Black Box Recorder. There she was the actress playing the parts created for her by Luke Haines and John Moore (ex-Auteurs and ex-Jesus and Mary Chain respectively). One always hesitates to quote from a press release, but when one is so well-written as the one that accompanies this album, it would be churlish not to. Black Box Recorder’s Haines and Moore are variously described as ‘a diseased Lloyd Webber and Rice, or a violent Tennant and Low or a creepy Lennon and McCartney.’ Sing, Memory is Nixey’s debut solo album. Her singing remains as distinctive as ever, yet there is a thawing of the heart of ice. Nixey is once again a detached observer of mankind, yet for the first time she feels what it is like to be human too.

The opening song “When I’m Here With You” is a swoon-filled synth-led song. If there is a dark undercurrent then it lies deeper than ever before. Musically “Beautiful Oblivion” resembles Voyager-era Momus, full of synth squiggles and squelches. For the first time since I began listening to Sarah Nixey’s music I start to think of Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Both singers have a posh, haughty but sexy persona.

While a Black Box Recorder song might have dwelled on the seedy side of life in hotel rooms, Nixey’s take on the subject (”Hotel Rooms”) is much more sensual. Hotel rooms are places of refuge ‘where nobody knows you’. Nixey promises: ‘I’m going to love you through the night’ which sounds more like a promise than the threat it might have been during the Black Box Recorder days. There’s something of Julianne Regan circa her Mice album here. If Girls Aloud had spent more time in Finishing School than going round the bins after night clubs they might sound like “Nothing On Earth”. Indeed it has the sound of Girls Aloud producers/writers Xenomania, as does the following song “Nightshift” which is full of oblique lyrics over distorted dance beats. This song is a cover of a band called The Names, who have been described as sublimely gloomy Belgian avant-sentimentalists.

It must be as much a relief for Nixey as it is for the listener to spend some time in the daylight after spending so long in the shadows. The chorus of “Endless Circles” is the aural equivalent of walking into bright sunshine. The fact that we spin around in the titular circles, yet never find the perfect life, doesn’t sound so bad as it might have done before. Meanwhile “Masquerade” would be a perfect Bond theme.

If you believe that pop music can be sexy and sophisticated, if you think it can touch your heart and your mind, then you deserve to hear Sarah Nixey’s work. She may have stepped out of the shadows, but she shines just as brightly in the light.

- Stuart Moses

www.zoozoom.com interview and photos here

January, 2007
www.musicomh.com

Album Review – Sing, Memory
****

Take dark themes of dysfunctionality and fractured lives, wrap them in sugar-coated candyfloss melodies and pour them into crystal decanters. Filter them through electronic psychedelics that owe an equal debt to Portishead and Beck and if you can imagine what might come out the other end, you’ve got a good chance of guessing what Sarah Nixey’s first solo album might sound like. Ignore its own subheading – “Through the glitter and the grandeur, there’s life in the cabaret” – as there’s very little cabaret here and very much more that can be traced back to the influence of producer James Banbury.

Sing, Memory is released on the ServiceAv label that Banbury runs with former Art of Noise member, talking head and all-round art pop aristo Paul Morley, both of whom have previously worked with Nixey in the sublime Infantjoy, and it’s to this group more than the better known Luke Haines side project Black Box Recorder (for whom she also provided vocals) that Sing, Memory owes its largest debt.

In between triphop beats, artpop electronics and disco drum lines you’ll still find lyrics about double whiskeys, concrete jungles and children crying on the radio of course. She’s not going to let you get off that easily. Nightshift in particular is this album’s Child Psychology, a song as fragile and beautiful as it is disturbing but Nixey has taken the original, recorded by Peel favourites The Names, and made it her own.

From the spoken word intro of Sing (prelude), Nixey sets out her stall, explaining that there are two sides to everything: some songs are true and others are lies. What follows is an album in two halves, a package that in the good old days of vinyl would have been spread over two lovely large discs of delicate black vinyl to slip in and out of a beautifully designed gatefold, to nurture and caress. It’s difficult to think of Nixey without images of a perfect, bohemian utopia bubbling to the surface. We slip even further into the night from Memory (prelude) onwards, another spoken word intro that segues into The Collector, the album’s standout single.

The woman will always have a special place in this reviewer’s heart for bringing melodious life to the line “Life is unfair/Kill yourself or get over it”, thereby rubbishing Morrissey’s entire career in just nine words and proving her utter superiority to all other forms of pop life but nonetheless it’s good to see that she can cut the mustard without Haines’ idiosyncratic (read: disturbingly bonkers) lyrics to back her up. At times disposable MTV disco – single Strangelove to name but one – and at others music for a trashed BoHo lounge at 4am – Masquerade deserves special mention – Sing, Memory is as listenable as it is addictively seductive, the perfect soundtrack for when the curtains are drawn and the sheets are made of black satin.

It’s a record that beckons you in with an evil grin to slip beneath its eighties electro surface into the same dark and murky waters where Echo and the Bunnymen and OMD first invited us to skinny dip. Echoes of the darker end of eighties electronica flit all over the album, above and beyond the cover of the early Human League classic The Black Hit Of Space, slipping in and out of ethereal memories from the British Electric Foundation to Saint Etienne.

(During Valentine’s Week – 13th February) – Nixey is playing at the Luminaire – a venue that could prove to be the ultimate date. Marry the boy who offers to take you there and you won’t go far wrong. Unless he murders you on the wedding night of course, which would make a great subject for a Sarah Nixey song. Let’s hope she’s working on the next album already.

- Jenni Cole

January, 2007
Stylus Magazine

Album Review – Sing, Memory
B-

Sarah Nixey is well aware of her greatest asset. Barely seven seconds of solo-debut swishy-sparkle ambience has passed before it arrives in a moment of pure, unblemished diction—“This is Sarah Nixey talking.” The voice that launched one thousand sexually-frustrated comparisons to saucy school ma’ams and shared The Facts of Life with a fortunate generation of adolescents, placed up front and direct. It feels like something of a statement.

Despite constituting an exact third of Black Box Recorder, Nixey’s status was prone to speculation. As the ever-audible vocalist, her presence inevitably became synonymous with the group itself. At the same time, however, whispers and innuendo would persistently suggest that Luke Haines and John Moore were the true criminal masterminds—making cunning use of a well-spoken mouthpiece to deliver their manifesto. The truth is elusive. Only this much is clear: the band required all three to function.

Which is why the decision to open with a sentence that could be interpreted as a synopsis of Ms. Nixey’s entire Black Box Recorder career feels a somewhat bold one. Rather than attempting to put as much distance between her most recognized work and this shiny, new solo career as possible, our heroine seems keen to draw from her previous success and mold it into fresh, exciting shapes. At least, we must presume this was the plan.

Sing, Memory is a glossy, shimmering presentation. It bleeps and trills, swoons and climbs, and coolly exudes the confidence of some professionally-executed electronic jiggery-pokery. It also comes in two semi-distinct halves (go on, guess their names), each preceded by a spoken prelude. Aside from this nod to conceptual trappings, however, the musical side doesn’t stand a great distance away from Passionoia, the final Black Box Recorder record. Except, notably, it is missing the trademark lyrical-satirical content.

Instead we’ve got a heady mixture of love, obsessive weirdoes, philosophical musings about the nature of the universe, and a surprise cover of a dusty Factory Records gem. Said cover is The Names’ “Nightshift”, given a buffed-up sheen and, puzzlingly enough, overlaid with percussion that has seemingly been sampled directly from an 8-bit computer game character collecting a handy power-up. It’s a fine choice of track for reworking and interestingly handled, sounding a touch more sinister than the hypnotic bleakness of the original.

The strongest cuts though, are perhaps provided by the chosen singles—one apiece from each “side,” suitably differing in tone. “Strangelove” takes the domineering ice queen route, brimming with detachment, stylishly disinterested “hey hey” chorus work and sexual encounters which sound alarmingly clinical. By contrast, the dreamier vibe of “The Collector” details a disturbingly methodical character who pins ensnared partners in his metaphorical butterfly book, for twisted kicks. Understandably, Sarah sounds somewhat distraught that he keeps getting away with this—and perhaps a bit miffed at herself for being a repeat victim. (It’s a touch disconcerting that the one about an obvious psychopath is generally warmer than the one about consensual sex, but such are the odd whims of cutting edge electro-pop.)

Elsewhere, there are some relatively lovely ponderings about the nature of reality and the epic expanse of outer space. Both “Beautiful Oblivion” and “The Black Hit of Space” (another decent cover, The Human League this time) deal with the matter in their own way. The former leans toward an embrace of the concept of limbo, whereas the latter compares a record’s smash success with the all-consuming power of a black hole; pulsing and glitching as it swallows everything in its path. Likewise, “Endless Circles” employs a similarly spacey overtone, though the material is of a more insular nature—tackling the apathy which comes with the realization that our choices may all be for naught, as the perpetual repetition of the human condition gradually wears our protagonist down.

There’s nearly an hour’s worth of music here—and even Nixey’s magnetic vocal-hook can’t manage to sustain that much material. However, all told, there’s enough invention amidst the cozy familiarity to result in a tentatively successful solo debut. Propelled by such an instantly recognizable voice, Sing, Memory was always going to run into Black Box Recorder comparisons—and by electing to stay comfortingly near the sound found on Passionoia such criticisms are practically invited. Nonetheless, a divergence in thematic content provides enough of a natural progression to make this a distinct release in its own right

Peter Parris

January, 2007
www.RoomThirteen.com

Album Review – Sing, Memory
11 out of 13

An eloquent, ethereal affair, Sarah Nixey’s solo debut is split into two divine chunks, with the first ‘Sing’ introduced by a self-help style soft spoken monologue backed with the glittering sounds of electro calm that hypnotise the audience into Nixey’s zone. 

Electro romps like ‘Beautiful Oblivion’ place Nixey at the centre of glassy synths that ripple around her, permeated by a thumping beat that pictures her as a dancefloor siren, while opener ‘When I’m Here With You’ is a smooth, latino-style number that melts the icey side of the former Black Box Recorder artist’s voice. ‘Hotel Room’ is slick and suave, with Nixey promising like a true diva, “I’m going to love you through the night” amid a torrent of glacial synth showers. Nixey paints with the same electro colours as Goldfrapp, but whereas their canvas is disco beats, the solo artist creates a space out serenity.

’Memory’ begins with another delicate monologue on its conception from Nixey. ‘The Collector’ begins this chapter with a tense tune led by a lush chorus, while ‘Breathe In, Fade Out’s theatrical tale lilts along on a gentle piano run and uncoils above intermittent avant-garde electro rushes. ‘Masquerade’ carries on the performance theme with a charming and tense refrain that doesn’t seem far from musical fare. ‘The Man I Knew’ sees Nixey confiding in the listener in tantalising whispers while the sweetly flowing tune carries you off on a journey of relaxation.

’Sing, Memory’ is clearly a carefully thought out album filled with beautiful tunes to delight, however it’s best listened to before bedtime due to the soporific qualities of the dreamy tunes.

Jo Vallance

December, 2006
www.theblackandwhitemag.com

Album Review – Sing, Memory
Rating: 8.9

If you don’t know Sarah Nixey from her days in art-pop band Black Box Recorder, don’t worry about it. Sing, Memory is the perfect introduction to this diva in waiting. Nixey has one of the most intoxicating voices in music, and her solo debut is a smashing and sensual affair. This album is more ambitious than most Top 40 centered albums, in that it is intended to be heard in 2 halves, thus Sing [comma] Memory. Nixey’s opening track acts as a sort of explanation and disclaimer (’Some of these songs are true, and some tell lies.’), and then the journey begins, and you can’t help but fall in love with the teasing and smooth vocals that lace every track. Musically, the album successfully creates poppy arrangements in a cool and innovative way. Think of a more techno-oriented Goldfrapp, or of a British Madonna who understands song craftmenship, and this is the essence of Sing, Memory. Having said this, Nixey’s songs definitely do not fall under the techno umbrella. There are plenty of bleeps, backbeats and synths to soothe any electronic fiend, but this is an artier affair. Call it electro-pop with angelic vocals, but the truth is that this album sounds much better than you are probably imagining. “Strangelove (sing version)” is loaded with hotness, and every female icon alive wishes that she was singing it. And this record never falls into a lull or coasts on its previous track. These songs work, including the 2 covers Nixey masterfully transforms by The Human League and The Names. You’ll be hard pressed to find an artist with a more austere, lush, feisty and luxurious sound than Sarah Nixey. And her blend of wonderous and trippy electro-pop rarely gets more enticing. This is one of the best pop records you’ll hear in 2007. For fans of Black Box Recorder (duh!), Goldfrapp, Madonna, Portishead and Feist.

July, 2006
www.tmcq.co.uk

I hope you won’t consider me immodest when I say that I am a master of seduction who knows all of its deceptions. The most remarkable thing about this knowledge is that my fidelity has never been in doubt. Because, for past year, I have been embroiled in endless discussions with my girlfriend who is doing a PhD on Seduction (which she defines as “that which leads astray from right behaviour”). Sometimes I think that with all this cutting-edge research in my brain, I should be given a minor qualification of sorts … or at least a bit of colour for my epaulettes. It won’t happen.

However, I plough on and occasionally it illuminates my readings of various cultural products. Take Sarah Nixey’s new single, Strangelove, what could be more seductive? It’s not just that it is full of melodic hooks or that it has a funky bassline and robo-synths, it’s her voice that really leads one astray. From her breathy whisper (familiar from Black Box Recorder’s output) to the delicious swoop of the chorus, it is a voice can beguile even the most cynical.

In person, Sarah Nixey is charming and witty, conveying considerable excitement about her current projects. Nonetheless, my conception of her is still heavily idealized, she is a cultural icon rather than a real person. Leading me to ask: Who is the real Sarah Nixey?

Born Winter Solstice 1973, Dorset. State educated. I am a mother, daughter, granddaughter, stepdaughter, sister, niece and cousin. The eldest of five. I’m mostly polite, playful and passionate. If provoked, I have been known to be very spiky.

As a cultural icon of sorts, you are known for your distinctive voice and your aloof demeanour. I was wondering if you tell us five thingss about yourself that people don’t know?

As a child I lived in a caravan with my family for almost two years whilst my parents built our house. They named it Escapade.

I pass out when I have a blood test.

I eat chocolate pretty much everyday. It has to be dark and bitter.

Secret Agent 104 was my pseudonym until I was 12 years old.

I can do the splits.

The last Black Box Recorder album came out in 2003, I was wondering if you could tell us what you’ve been up to since then?

Most of the time I’ve been looking after my young daughter. I travelled to LA, New York, Cuba, Spain, Edinburgh, Dublin, Paris, the West Country and the Isle of Man. I went to a few gigs, some of my favourites being The New York Dolls, Blondie, David Bowie, Kraftwerk, Bjork, Half Cousin, Lou Reed and The Hours. I went to the theatre to see The Black Rider (wonderful music by Tom Waits), Where The Night Begins, The Dutch Elm Conservatoire, Jeremy Lion, Henry Rollins and a few others. I recorded songs for Infantjoy and Luke Haines. I also wrote and recorded my own album.

How does Sarah Nixey, solo artist, differ from Black Box Recorder?

Sarah Nixey solo artist is blonder, for now. She also writes the songs.

Will you be singing any BBR songs live or is that separate?

I won’t be singing BBR’s back catalogue at this stage. Maybe in a few years time when I do my greatest hits tour.

And, ahem, what are your lyrics about?

My lyrics are about whatever I’m reading, watching on TV, listening to on the radio or conversations I’ve overheard, mixed with some autobiographical details. The Collector was inspired by a painting in my living room of a boy holding a scalpel to a butterfly, and the John Fowles novel of the same name. My new single Strangelove is about the heaven and hell of being in a love affair.

What does James Banbury (studio wizard and co-writer) bring to proceedings?

I bring the skeleton and James adds the flesh and blood. I arrive at his studio, pick up his guitar and play it very badly. He very politely takes the tune and words and makes sense of it all.

Do you have any principles or rules you live by?

There are some battles that aren’t worth fighting.

I always take off my make-up before I go to bed.

I seldom sit in the sun.

What was the last dream you remember?

I dreamt that my grandmother dyed her hair bright orange and failed to notice that it looked ridiculous. My dreams never make any sense and bear no relation to what is going on in my life. Occasionally I look up the meaning of my dreams in a book I was given. Apparently, if you dream your hair is permed it signifies that you are in danger either from sickness or injury. There was nothing written about orange hair, unfortunately.

Any regrets?

None. I’ve made plenty of mistakes though.

She looks at me as though this interview was one of the mistakes. I squirm awkwardly in my seat, feeling as though I’ve been led astray long enough. The rest is silence.

- Neil Scott

Wednesday, 28th June, 2006
www.hard-wired.org.uk

Strangelove review. 8/10

(The Scene: Ex-Black Box Recorder singer Sarah Nixey is a headmistress sitting behind her desk in her office. There is a knock on the door.)

Ms Nixey: “Ah, yes, Moses, do come in.”

(Stuart Moses, Hard Wired’s Goth reviewer enters. Takes a seat. Ms Nixey takes a few moments to study the papers in front of her.)

Ms Nixey: “So what is this I hear about you reviewing my new single for popular review site Hard Wired? According to this review you are planning to say that ‘Strangelove’ is more of the same, with my stern, yet sexy, almost spoken vocals sitting on top of the faux-glam synth backing not unlike that adopted by Goldfrapp. You’ve written here that the single contains chanted ‘hey heys’ but that we are a world away from Suzi Quatro? I also read that you intend to say that I make simple pop platitudes such as ‘I’m gonna stir it around’ and ‘Turn it upside down’ sound threatening, yet strangely enticing?”

(Stuart nods slowly)

Ms Nixey: “And am I right in saying that you intend to describe me as the Goth Rachel Stevens?”

(Stuart looks at the floor in embarrassment.)

Ms Nixey: “And what is this that I read you have to say about the first of the three b-sides ‘The Collector meets Comma?’”

(Stuart mumbles indistinctly)

Ms Nixey: “Do you intend to say that this is the most mainstream mix of the three? Are you planning to say the atmosphere reminds you of author John Fowles’ book of the same title? Do you also ruminate that this song is unusual because I am usually in control, yet in this song I appear to be the victim, or at best a third party narrator?”

(Stuart nods)

Ms Nixey: “And is it your intention to describe ‘The Collector Meets Infantjoy’ as sounding like David Sylvian’s solo work? That you prefer my vocals to be less stretched and tampered with, but the exquisite new synthesizer part makes up for it, recalling as it does some of The The’s quieter moments?”

(Stuart nods)

Ms Nixey: “And will you say that the pace picks up for ‘The Collector meets Pete Davis’ which is perhaps the most radical reinvention? That you are least keen on this remix, despite the fact that at last night’s school disco this was what got most pupils on the dancefloor?”

(Stuart nods mournfully)

Ms Nixey: “Frankly I am displeased by your ill thought out criticisms. I am extremely disappointed by your arrogant belief that anyone cares what you think about music. As a punishment you must listen to the next Westlife single 100 times and write me an essay detailing why Shayne Ward is the future of pop music.”

(Stuart clutches his head in his hands and screams) Stuart: “Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!”

- Stuart Moses

Sunday, 9th July, 2006
www.arjanwrites.com

Sarah Nixey – Strangelove

Former Black Box Recorder singer Sarah Nixey is hitting the pop scene on her own with her second solo single “Strangelove” due out on iTunes on July 17. “Strangelove” is a song about the hell and heaven of love that Nixey approaches with both cool and fury. Musicallly, this seemingly menacing track is a pure pop confection with a frothy synth arrangement and Nixey’s totally irresistible disco chic vocals in proper Queen’s English. “Dress to kill. Make your mark,” Nixey sings. Get ready for Sarah Nixey. A stylish pop force to be reckoned with.

The single will be released by producers Paul Morley and James Banbury’s boutique label ServiceAV. The duo is currently also working on Nixey’s debut album that is due out later this year. If you have moment, also check out Nixey first single “The Collector” with mixes by The Freelance Hellraiser and others.

Saturday, 15th July, 2006
www.roomthirteen.com

Sarah Nixey – Strangelove

Rated 10 out of 13

Sarah Nixey’s latest single is a sparkling electro-pop stunner with robotic beats and sassy cute backing vocals, which Nixey’s own voice takes a seductive smoothness not too far from Alison Goldfrapp. The former Black Box Recorder singer has certainly created a single with enough kooky attitude to make something of herself, shimmering synths shake your hips in this retro frisson of excitement.

The remixes of first solo single ‘The Collector’ show a stark contrast, with the Comma Mix showing Nixey’s beautifully precise vocals starting out with the richness of an early Madonna and progressing into an intricate, delicate Alice In Wonderland maze of piano and whimsical vocals. There are also a couple of techno remixes, but they only serve to tempt you to track down the original single or forthcoming album.

- Jo Vallance

Thursday, 13th July, 2006
www.drownedinsound.com

Sarah Nixey – Strangelove single review

Sarah Nixey will be known to many as the icy voiced frontwoman of Black Box Recorder, whose sweet pop tones lent an additional chill to the dark and often sordid lyrical content. In her new manifestation as… um… herself, she takes that pop sensibility and runs with it, while maintaining a cynically wise attitude which means that this synth-beat tune, despite the disco floor friendly pumping of bass and bleeps, is a thoroughly adult offering.

Focusing on the beats of rhythmic computer effects and a clicking drum machine which somehow manages to sound sarcastic and knowing, the instrumental side of things is kept fairly minimal. This means the burden of the melody falls mainly on Nixey’s voice – and she’s more than able to carry it. Her vocal delivery shifts from cool school prefect to mature confidence, with the occasional shift into seductive pop slickness just to prove that she could play that game, if she wanted. Instead, however, of fighting for a piece of that easy-to-replicate-market, Nixey’s seeking out her own niche among those who appreciate a good pop tune but who want a bit of knowing intelligence and personality to go with it.

Judging by the strength of this smart take on the ins and outs of true-to-life romance, it’ll be the bad taste of the nation rather than her own capabilities that’ll be to blame if she doesn’t succeed.

- holliy

Wednesday, 12th July, 2006
www.furanes.net/ebm

Sarah Nixey – Strangelove

I’ve been doing a fair bit of thinking lately on why artists go solo. The need to bring their artistic vanity to fruition? The ability to call shots without having to tee off bandmates? How about escaping a muse? Luke Haines is a pretty violent writer, as such things go, a great tunesmith and inventive lyricist but at some point, you can see Sarah Nixey might have got bored of the arch weariness of Black Box Recorder and wanted to show that she had a heart as well as lips. Debut “The Collector” showed her icy yet sympathetic, but “Strangelove” finds her showing hips as well as lips.

It’s not a Depeche Mode cover. It sounds somewhat in the ballpark of Depeche Mode, though not anything like Depeche Mode’s “Strangelove” itself. It also does not sound like “Strangelove” by Phixx. Think a slightly less posh Sophie Ellis-Bextor accidentally being given a backing track intended for Pay-TV (this is not a million miles away, in the canter of the words, from “Sexy Robot” – short rhyming couplets and danceable eighties electro) with additional “hey” interjections courtesy of Rachel Stevens. (Well, not the actual RS, but there’s a touch of “Some Girls” in that thar chorus).

If you like Ms Nixey in spoken word goddess mode, the opening of the verses will do you fine: “Aim at target/Pull the trigger/Put a ring/on your finger”. If you like her spooky indie songstress guise, the wobble of the chorus will have you in ecstacy. The one that’s halfway in between is well catered for too, the pre-chorus is a complete delight, as the beats that glide crisply and canter seductively over the chorus patter and sway underneath her giddy command: “Turn it in and twist it inside OUT” before melting instantly into the chorus, which repeats lots and lots and lots of times in case you didn’t quite get how deliriously catchy it was the first time.

What this gives that BBR never did is basically pure undistilled, unrestrained fun, though. BBR at their most kinetic and propulsive (say, “The School Song”, “Andrew Ridgeley” and “Sex Life”) were always mediated by sophistication, self-reference, humour or flecks of seriousness. “Strangelove” is great fun without attempts to be anything else, and anything else that is present is largely due to the interesting colours of Nixey’s voice – the way she stretches out the notes when she sings “This is looooove”, each iteration floats just a little differently to the last to wonderful effect. She’s authoritative and predatory but still feminine, and unlike so much of this kind of clever electro-pop, it’s not marred by needless attempts at eroticism or importance – it’s texturally modern even as it harks back to the 80s. It has the same cool sheen as BBR while being more straightforwardly upbeat and the muse is her own. It might not be as technically, theoretically brilliant as Haines’ best statements, but I have a sneaking suspicion on the levels that I am listening to it on now – head, heart, hips, this is close to the best thing she’s yet done.

Friday, 23rd June, 2006
www.msn.co.uk

Sarah Nixey: “Strangelove”

Second solo single from the former Black Box Recorder chanteuse could well be mistaken for the sound of Kraftwerk having a go at Stevie Wonder’s Superstition.

Undeniably electro Strangelove is also a track that has a halfhearted attempt at funk, and the result is endearingly kitsch. Cool as ever Sarah plays the ensnared lover caught in the web of an ill-conceived romance, delivering a succession of bitter sweet curses with that delectable Queen’s English dialect that only she and possibly HRH Lizzie can get away with.

They don’t make too many pop records like this anymore.

Friday, 16th June, 2006
www.theinternationalhouseofpussy.co.uk

Sarah Nixey is back with another exquisite dark pop tale… shouldn’t there be some sort of law preventing this little minx from peddling such hypnotic sex and death-themed records? Are we safe? “Stony hearts, almost beat… this is love, a strange kind of love”, she observes. The bitch is cold and we love it! The track is called ‘Strangelove’ and it’s released on CD, limited 7″ vinyl and digital download on July 17th. It’s available for pre-order here but iTunes will have 2 exclusive remixes of ‘Strangelove’ available from July 18th.

The CD single will be backed with some remixes of her debut single, ‘The Collector’ and our favourite, ‘The Collector Meets Pete Davis’, might give you a nose bleed. You have been warned. Sarah’s debut album is shaping up to be a very dangerous statement of intent indeed…

Monday, 19th June, 2006
www.ireallylovemusic.com

sarah nixey – strangelove/the collector

having come to the nations attention via luke haines alt.pop experiment, black box recorder, sarah then provided her trademarked sultry vocals for the standout track, ‘ghosts’, on the recent infantjoy album, and so now we come to the beginning of her solo career.

and the connection between these 2 outings ?

james banbury.

classically trained cellist and obviously talented bloke, james has stepped outside the ring and become both electropop producer as well as record label supremo (along with paul morley, officially, though his day to day involvement must be questioned as he has those never ending tv vox pop slots to sort out!) for this solo single. lead track, strangelove, is the unusual pairing of propaganda styled pop drama and goldfrapp, where passion and melody combine in a smattering of synths, strings and ‘hey hey hey’s, while the extras in the package are remixes of the previously only available as download only track, ‘the collector’. each version is revisited by various record label chums, so, comma keeps the origins of the song tight, with sarah’s vocals being a major presence throughout the crashing piano chords and dramatic ambience, label bosses infantjoy extent their love for all thing erik satie by stripping the song right back to a few echoed piano notes and cutup vocals for a gorgeous chunk of serenity, and then to finish off the real world package, there is a remix for the groovers. pete davis reverses the drum loops, fucks up the noises with some welcome distortion, and generally creates a 6 minutes electro dance monster. all of which makes this a fantastic single to spend your pocket money on, however, there is more.

as is the way in this modern world, the gang have decided to release some exclusives for the ipod generation. so, alongside the proper single, there are 2 versions available only via itunes, a 6 minute peter hook bassline’d filled thumper by the freelance hellraiser (james banbury sorted out strings on the soon to be released freelance album – hence the connection), and then the mysterious record label buddy, ‘image of a group’ switches on the biggest reverb effect pedal, and gets the beat in gear for a bubbly dance floor.

so whatever your mood, this release will provide enjoyment, as well as make you look forward to sarahs forthcoming solo album with keen anticipation.

-mark e

Thursday, 15th June, 2006
www.gigwise.com

Strangelove – single review
***

From obsessions with ‘Andrew Ridgely’ to being enchanted by ‘The Deverell Twins’, Sarah Nixey is no novice on the subject of strange love. The aptly titled second single from her forthcoming album ‘Sing Memory’ is a bold, synth ridden pop song filled with typically bleak and to the point lyrics. Drawing us to attention with loud ‘Hey’s, it’s quirky bleeps and scratchy bassline almost make us feel like Sarah is floating through that image of cyberspace represented in low budget films. While indie kids might be bemoaning the loss of their pin-up girl to the dark side of pop, those of us awaiting a heroine to come and vanquish the world from the faux-pop of Orson & The Feeling may well strike gold here.

-Talia Kraines

Friday, 16th June, 2006
www.musicomh.com

Strangelove – single review

Following the download-only release of her debut single The Collector, sometime Black Box Recorder chanteuse Sarah Nixey’s first full solo release is something altogether poppier.
Strangelove has the lot – quirky electropop synth parts, her trademark enunciated whispers, and an infectious chorus.

Lyrically, Strangelove doesn’t quite match The Collector, and the whole thing runs out of steam after three minutes, with the next minute consisting of the chorus repeated. But it’s still stronger than much of Alison Goldfrapp’s lyrical output, and she’s hardly been held back by such quibbles.

- Michael Hubbard

March, 2006
www.musicomh.com

Interview
Sarah Nixey – Collecting Thoughts

Top of the Pops has, down the years, produced many a memorable sight. Kurt Cobain blatantly miming Smells Like Teen Spirit; All About Eve’s technical difficulties; Chaka Khan’s big black bird costume.

Right up there with them was the incongruous manifestation, in 2000, of misanthropic Auteurs lynchpin Luke Haines, a serial nearly-hit wonder, and sometime Jesus & Mary Chain member and absinthe importer John Moore, in the top 20 as Black Box Recorder with a little ditty about the birds and the bees called The Facts of Life.

On vocals, whispering about pubescent boys and girls in relationship dramas was a quintessential English waif – Sarah Nixey.
That was the dawn of a new millennium. Half a decade later, Nixey is emerging from the creative chrysalis of Black Box Recorder as a fully fledged solo artist. It’s been a while. What’s she been up to?

To discover this I meet Sarah in the salubrious surrounds of The Kilburn pub, prior to her first solo London show, upstairs at the Luminaire. My new fangled digital recording device picks up the sound of people drinking, talking and scraping chairs about, but doesn’t pick up my questions at all. Yet through all the racket, Sarah’s distinctive, cut-glass tones are precise and recorded in their entirety.

“I had all these messages on my website asking where I’d been, saying that I’d not been around for ages, saying I’d been a real dark horse – which I quite like,” offers Sarah. “I’ve been hibernating.” While in hibernation she’s been penning her own material. “The songs are very different to Black Box Recorder,” she enthuses. Joining her in hibernation was producer James Banbury, latterly keyboardist for Black Box Recorder and cellist with The Auteurs. For her solo material, Banbury’s role is well defined. “I write the songs and give them to James, and he fleshes them out.”

In her erstwhile ‘pop collective’ Haines and Moore were the writers. Sarah explains her playful approach to Black Box Recorder’s beginnings: “John seemed interesting, playing the saw… I knew he had a history with The Jesus & Mary Chain, and I found him quite appealing,” says the band’s self-styled Trojan horse. “Luke and John really hit it off, but it was a pure chance meeting that led to something happening between the three of us. They sent me a fax saying, sing a song for us, we’ve got a studio on hold for this weekend, it’s called Girl Singing In The Wreckage, it’s not as dark as it seems, and we’ll make you famous, they said. I thought it was really funny.”

Their first album, England Made Me, was followed by The Facts of Life within a couple of years. The title track made the top 20. “The intention behind The Facts of Life was to have a hit single and they succeeded very well,” recalls Sarah. “I’m sure there were some people who bought that single and then bought the record and… weren’t really expecting that! Luke and John were enjoying every minute of it.”

By the release of the band’s fourth and last record, 2003’s Passionoia, Sarah had started to write her own songs. “When you’ve got two really good songwriters writing for you you become quite lazy,” says Sarah. And they really were writing about her. “They were writing for me and about me, about my life,” she explains. “I felt like the songs belonged to me. They had the writing credits but I was singing them. On some level I was the muse. I would share some anecdotes with them and then they’d come back, rather embarrassingly, hiding their faces, with a song. I quite liked that.”

Black Box Recorder isn’t officially dead – instead their state of being is described as “comatose”. “There hasn’t been an official split, but I can’t see anything happening in the near future,” says Sarah. “After Passionoia things fell apart with the record company. Luke was off doing solo stuff and John was off doing a solo record and I felt that it was probably the right time to do my own thing as well. I knew James (from Black Box Recorder) and we recorded an album together.”

I ask her about the sound of her new material. What do her songs sound like? It’s a question well able to dismay many an artist, but Sarah’s response is swift. “They are pop songs. My vocal style is similar (to her Black Box Recorder output), but stronger I think. I wanted to play around with the idea that I’d be singing on this record, rather than whispering on it. It needs to be sung.”

There’s soon to be a debut album to demonstrate why. “It is finished,” says Sarah. “I’ve just got to work out exactly what to put on it, where things are going to go.” And is she excited? A measured response: “The exciting stuff has already happened – the writing and the recording is the bit that I really enjoy,” she says. “Now comes all the promotional stuff… but doing gigs is great, I love doing the live shows.”

She has a particular soft spot for the Luminaire, the north London venue opened in March 2005 that would, within 12 months, go on to be named Time Out Venue of the Year. “I really love this venue. I live around here – the sound is fantastic, and I can walk home! It’s becoming something because of the man who’s managing it. Andy Inglis has been working all hours getting it a good name, and now it has a good name, known for having the best sound in London as well.”

I ponder what her audience at the Luminaire should expect of her live act. “There are poppy moments, my disco anthem…” she says. “We kind of look like Abba! There are two guys and two girls and a glitterball above our heads.”

Black Box Recorder’s lyrical safe/horror juxtaposition, defining sometimes unpalatable aspects of Englishness yet always from an affectionate point of view, defined their songs. Do Sarah’s lyrics on her new material continue in a similar vein? “The subject matter is whatever I’m reading, whatever I’m watching on TV, mixed with autobiographical details,” she says. “I can never go away from English life. It’s where I live and I am very English.”

Her first (download only) single, The Collector, is about a boy who collects butterflies and then goes on to collect women. It was inspired by the novel of the same name by John Fowles, naturally enough a writer from the south-east of England. In the book an uneducated and withdrawn man collects butterflies before imprisoning an art student in his cellar as part of his collection. Sarah has a visual reminder of the book. “There’s a painting I have in my living room, of a boy holding a scalpel to a butterfly.” But hang on – didn’t she say she was making pop music? “It’s a fairly upbeat track, quite pop actually!” she insists, before dissolving into laughter.

I ask her which instruments she plays on her solo record. “I sing,” comes the response. “I play guitar really badly, which is how I write my songs, but I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone. I can just about string some chords together… I’m learning piano at the moment, but I like to go on stage and sing rather than strap a guitar on.”

As to musical influences, she’s happy to namedrop David Sylvian, front man of Japan, whose new project Nine Horses Sarah tells me she read about on musicOMH.com. She’d covered the Japan track Ghosts for Infantjoy’s new record. James Banbury (him again) and talking head and music writer Paul Morley, the brains behind Infantjoy, are also behind the “boutique label” Service AV that put out The Collector digitally. “I love that track – it’s really the only Japan track I remember. They were a funny band,” she muses.

But when it comes to her music, Sarah Nixey is in charge. “There are no deadlines, which is quite liberating,” she tells me. “I’m not even being managed. It’s incredibly empowering and actually quite addictive.” And with her first album laid down, what might the future hold for her? “I’d like to do something quite fast, orchestral even,” he says. “Banbury can sort anything out. He’s an incredibly accomplished musician, produces, programs, is musical director.”

Her gig that evening consisted of a half hour set of glacial, almost pop music, with an edge to it. The Collector and Masquerade were amongst the memorable moments. Curiously, the stage was decked out with vertical flourescent tubes – reassuringly, her stage act for her first London gig resembled Abba not a jot. But a sense of a milestone passed in Sarah Nixey’s quest for artistic fulfilment was palpable.

- Michael Hubbard

Thursday, 2nd February, 2006
www.cduk.com

Sarah Nixey @ Islington Academy
25/1/06

* * *

In the years since cult band Black Box Recorder went on an indefinite hiatus, it’s been easy to forget their dark brand of electro pop. In a time before Alison Goldfrapp and perhaps even Sophie Ellis–Bextor, Sarah Nixey, Black Box Recorder’s frontwoman, was the closest thing you’d find to royalty in the charts.

Elegant yet acerbic, Sarah’s Queen’s English pronunciation and chic beauty made her a pinup for geeky indie boys everywhere. And so, at Nixey’s first solo gig (supporting former bandmate, Luke Haines), it’s no surprise to see the sparse audience made up of misty-eyed thirty-somethings.

Taking to the stage with a small band and backing singer, Sarah draws coos from the audience as she launches into the magnificent ‘Love and Exile’. Feeling not dissimilar to her old work, this glides along broodingly with a scratchy synth backing track.

‘Strangelove’, Sarah’s self-described dance anthem, is certainly a move away from her typical sound. Her vocals are less detached and include a pleasant, shouty “Hey” hook reminiscent of Moloko’s ‘Pure Pleasure Seeker’. It’s perhaps the most chart-likely of the tracks we hear tonight.

A short but sweet set. Sarah clearly still has many more entrancingly bitter and elegant stories left to tell us.

-Talia Kraines

Sunday, 29th January, 2006
www.musicomh.com

Luke Haines + Sarah Nixey
@ Islington Academy, London, 25 January 2006

Sarah Nixey and Luke Haines used to be in a band together. Black Box Recorder even made the top 20 and Top Of The Pops with The Facts Of Life. But now, at a career crossroads for both, their muses point out paths to solo enrichment. Sarah is set to release her debut solo album, while Luke has jumped ship from EMI to indie label Lo-Max.

The Islington Academy’s polished floor and minimalist furniture – crash barrier and wall-hugging perimeter shelf is the sum of it – suits Nixey’s cut-glass electro-precision style. With ex-Auteurs man James Banbury – now of Infantjoy – controlling things from behind a bank of keyboards and gizmos, Sarah was joined by a backing vocalist and drummer.

Centre stage and looking stylish, Nixey looked as beautiful as, but less contrived than, Alison Goldfrapp – whose pronounciation she takes after. The set opened with Love And Exile, a sedate, atmospheric number that would characterise the set. Nixey’s songs are melodic but cold, not things to jump about to but to listen to and savour. Amongst the most memorable was Masquerade, one of the set’s more upbeat numbers, while closer and recent download single The Collector displayed her knack for literary allusion in lyric writing.

- Michael Hubbard

Monday, January 23, 2006
www.PenthouseForum.com

Sarah Nixey’s voice, while described by some as icy and distant, is to my ears nothing short of an amazingly sexy instrument that has the ability to induce both tears and arousal. The former lead vocalist of Black Box Recorder strikes out on her own with this debut solo single which carries on in the BBR tradition as much as it distances her from it. An ironic tale of compulsive love that leads to loneliness and alienation, “The Collector” should be a smash hit for Nixey, who deserves to be a huge star in this country as opposed to the vaguely cult figure she currently is. Given the state of American music scene that probably won’t happen; otherwise BBR would have made her bigger than Gwen Stefani years ago. The B-side, if a downloadable single can have a B-side, is “Love and Exile,” another stunner that rivals anything she sang with Black Box Recorder. Do yourself a favor and log onto sarahnixey.com

—Eric Daniville

Saturday, January 21st, 2006
Stylus Magazine

Sarah Nixey – The Collector
As I suspect I’ve mentioned elsewhere on quite a few occasions, I used to have a rather hefty crush on Sarah Nixey back when I was 16 or so. It was the springtime of Black Box Recorder’s The Facts Of Life album and her voice was everywhere in my head, cold, cutting, smirking—“experimentation, familiarisation; it’s all a nature-walk.” Happy times.

Anyway, BBR ran their course a couple of years ago, and her first solo material sneaked out at the end of last year. It’s rather good, too, in a kind of understated English electro-pop fashion. This is her first time writing her own lyrics, and so the tone is slightly lighter than when she was the mouthpiece for Luke Haines and John Moore (i.e. she doesn’t seem to want to kill anyone). It’s a tale of “a boy who never smiled,” collecting butterflies in order to preserve them behind glass for their own protection. I’d imagine the analogy’s obvious enough.

The chorus is the clincher: “You cast your net and pull me in; you always win this game.” The maturity of tone, the anger and the pity—you don’t get that shit with Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Then again, you could probably dance to Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Score draw, then.

Monday, November 14, 2005
The Mind’s Construction Quarterly Review

Black Box Recorder’s image played upon the fact that Sarah Nixey was a good girl being fed lines by two questionable characters, grinning in the shadows. She was the Patti Hearst of the music world, possibly brainwashed by John Moore and Luke Haines, possibly enjoying the opportunities they afforded her. Never ingenuous, never too knowing, it was a fine balance deftly pulled off.

Of course, when she started singing with BBR, Nixey was an unknown. Quite whether she would have been able to cut it as a conventional pop star was a mystery. On the evidence of The Collector, however, she would have done so with ease.

Her voice has never sounded richer, soaring beyond the spoken-melodies of BBR. The lyrics (loosely based on John Fowles’ novel of the same name) depict beauty being imprisioned, but it takes Nixey’s voice to bring out that fluttering, hopeless desire for liberty felt by the trapped. Musically, it is modern Bristol, reminiscent of Goldfrapp and Portishead at their most chart-friendly. The B-side, Love and Exile is exquisite, it’s lingering melancholy synths and addictive piano riff making it a perfect accompaniment to the A-side. This is a truly auspicious debut.

- Neil Scott

Friday, November 18, 2005
MSN Review

The long awaited return of the sultry-voiced Black Box Recorder babe is a typically evocative musical proposition that’ll warm the cockles of the coldest heart one moment then leave you with the heebeegeebees the next.

The Collector has Nixey’s trademark Queen’s English vocal elocution stamped all over it, but rather than Motorway pile-ups and prepubescent wet dreams her solo subject matter concerns a rather creepy sounding butterfly-catcher-come-lover, with issues.

It’s positively upbeat compared with her former band’s work, full of fluttering acoustic guitars, snip-snapping percussion and rather lovely wobbly synths. Better still is a second sumptuous track, Love And Exile which is as close to film noire as electronic pop can get.

- James Cabooter

Monday, December 19, 2005
playlouder.com review

It’s easy to forget what a distinctive and haunting voice Sarah Nixey has, a clipped and imposing wind that could freeze an ocean. With the indomitably sarcastic Luke Haines and John Moore behind her in Black Box Recorder it often felt a little too masters and puppet, though Nixey shines here as an independent voice. This is more pure pop with a hint of melodrama rather than the arch clinical and curmudgeonly BBR and it suits her; it’s more Kylie and less wily, and while the narrative is a two dimensional metaphor about a lepidopterist casting nets and stealing beauty, the simplicity works even if the concept feels a little worn.