Bachelorette on Myspace

MP3: I Want To Be Your Girlfriend 

MP3: Doo-Wop

Video by Louise Clifton: Complex History of a Dying Star

BACHELORETTE TOURING AUSTRALIA & NEW ZEALAND WITH BEACH HOUSE

Tour Dates:

Wed Aug 20: Hopetoun Hotel, Sydney Beach House + Bachelorette + Rand and Holland.
Tickets $25 + BF on sale through Moshtix - phone: 1300 438 849 and all Moshtix outlets
Thu Aug 21: Hopetoun Hotel, Sydney Beach House + Bachelorette + Songs.
Tickets $25 + BF on sale through Moshtix - phone: 1300 438 849 and all Moshtix outlets
Fri Aug 22: Winter Tones @ Roxanne, Melbourne.
Tickets $26 + BF on sale through Moshtix - phone: 1300 438 849 and all Moshtix outlets
Sat Aug 23: The Troubadour, Brisbane Beach House + Bachelorette + The Rational Academy.
Tickets $25 + BF on sale through Oztix.
Fri Aug 29: Bar Bodega, Wellington, New Zealand Beach House + Bachelorette + Nikky Brinkman. Tickets $30 + BF on sale from Real Groovy.
Sat Aug 30: Whammy Bar, Auckland, New Zealand Beach House + Bachelorette + Noriko. Tickets $30 + BF on sale from Real Groovy.

InPress live review:

Taking up the whole stage with her guitar and amp, laptop and projector and bank of keyboards comes Bachelorette. Following a false start, 10 minutes of technical problems (admirably covered by stilted improvisations that reveal her humble and humorous fluster - and the good natured patience of her fans), we get the ’60s cyber girl-group sounds of Doo Wop followed by the sublime glistening pop of A Lifetime. Backed by projections of moonscapes and soundwaves, “Bichilorit” (as she calls herself) seems to take a little while to ease into the show after the initial difficulties. Allowing herself a few wry smiles at the enthusiastic dances that I Want To Be Your Girlfriend brings out, she is soon joking and “apologising for needing something to apologise for”. She needn’t apologise for anything though, the sound is fantastic and her meticulously crafted and wonderfully dorky songs are warmly rendered and even more warmly received. The closing canon of My Electic Husband, On The Four and The End Of Things makes the perfect ending to a great gig, and the best place to escape to on this rainy night.

by ANDY HAZEL

From mX newspaper:

Bachelorette singer Annabel Alpers can’t think of anything worse than being stereotyped

There’s a clear thread of a failed romance in her simplistic songwriting, but Bachelorette creator Annabel Alpers doesn’t want to be cast as a ‘‘difficult female singer’’.

‘‘I always feel stupid talking about it because it’s a bit of a cliche as a musician, but it was a break-up, a love affair gone wrong that had caused a few problems,’’ Alpers said.

‘‘Most of the subject material is about a break-up. I guess I don’t like pointing that stuff out too much.

‘‘I’d like to avoid being classed as a difficult female singer-songwriter. You can’t help what inspires you and I’ve always tried to avoid fitting into too many stereotypes.’’

The New Zealander instead sees the main thrust of her debut album Isolation Loops as the isolation that was both unexpected and intentional in her life at this time.

‘‘My first release was an EP in 2005 and that was a mix of songs that weren’t related to each other, so with Isolation Loops I wanted it to have some sense of continuity and feeling that it’s a whole,’’ she said.

‘‘It was a concept album as well so I had songs based around the theme of isolation.

‘‘That theme kept popping up in my work then other things happened to make it even more so in my life.

‘‘I became more isolated in my life and I took it on as a personal exercise to make the most of this isolation.’’

Recorded in her great-grandfather’s hut in New Zealand’s Canterbury Plains, the album was recorded and mixed entirely by Alpers.

‘‘I was out there for the peace and quiet really and to get away from the city. It is incredibly calming,’’ she said.

‘‘When you’re making music you want your ears and eyes to be rested and it gave me a bit more space to be able to concentrate on music.’’

The album is a calm blend of psychedelic pop and folk and the addition of Alpers’ love of vintage instruments is obvious.

‘‘I started pretty early just buying different keyboards and organs from junk shops and other things like tape reel machines and things like that,’’ she said. It was a pretty organic process. ‘‘I didn’t have a set idea of what I was going to use, I just used what I had around.’’

Alpers said the ever-evolving addition of computers to music making allowed her to form the solo project Bachelorette.

‘‘It just sort of happened really. I used to play in bands and have always enjoyed playing music with other people,’’ Alpers said.

‘‘I would have material that I would come up with that didn’t sit with the band or vocal harmonies, and the band situation wasn’t quite right for getting those ideas across. I reached a point where I had a lot of stuff I wanted to do.

‘‘Computers were becoming more successful with multi-tracking so it was becoming more possible to record my ideas on my own. It was a natural process really.’’

by KARINA DUNGER

From Inpress: Bachelorette by Anthony Carew

By taking the name Bachelorette, Kiwi one-man-band Annabel Alpers isn’t outing herself as some sort of reality-television tragic. Rather, the Auckland-based, Christchurch-raised 28-year-old is a loner; a woman whose musical status is determinedly single. Her debut longplayer, as Bachelorette, is called Isolation Loops; such a title invoking not merely the looped keyboards and guitars that fill out her thickly, homely, bashful keytone-pop compositions, but also the fact that Alpers recorded it in isolation.

“I approached Isolation Loops as an album. It had a bit of a theme going on: the idea of isolation. True to that, I imposed isolation on myself. Not in a ’suffering artist’ kind of way, more seeing what the product was from spending time on my own,” Alpers explains, speaking in anticipation of her first-ever tour of the Australia.

That “imposed isolation” came in the form of a tiny, slightly rickety wooden hut, in the aptly-named village Rakaia Huts, a tiny fishing spot near the mouth of the Rakaia river, in the Canterbury plains on the coast south of Christchurch. Hand-built by Alpers’ great-grandfather, the hut allowed Alpers to function amidst isolation both actual and conceptual.

“I had a date in my mind that I wanted all the recording done by, so I thought that if I went and stayed by myself, somewhere far away from all distractions, that I’d be able to get things done more quickly,” she offers. “But I was also interested in how that isolation would influence my songs. It was quite an intense period. I was there about three months, all up. I was working on it pretty much the whole time. I’d have bursts of creativity, and then I’d hit a wall, and need a break. So I’d go into the nearest town, to be resocialised, then I’d go back to the hut.”

Given that Alpers confesses to being “very much the stereotypical teenaged outsider”, and given that she offers that her “favourite pastime as a teenager was shutting myself in my room in the dark, listening to records”, and given that those records were by The Smiths, Nick Cave, and The Jesus & Mary Chain, well, it’d be easy to portray Alpers as perpetual outsider, as antisocialist musician still functioning in teenaged isolation.

Except, Alpers has a whole history of wholly ’social’ performance; from her first band, Mouse, to a long-running Christchurch combo called Hawaii 5-0, in which she sang and played keyboards. “That band was such a matey, social sort of thing,” Alpers offers, deflating those ‘forever loner’ notions. “There were people in that band who weren’t really at all into the idea of success; for them it was about being with their friends, having fun.”

“Playing with other people has this simplicity to it: you share the fun of recording, touring, practicing. It’s about being together, about doing; not about being by yourself, thinking. But, at the same time, it’s limiting. If I had ideas for sound or vocal harmonies that I wasn’t able to communicate, to translate to the other members, that was frustrating; we couldn’t record or perform those ideas, so they’d just die.”

These days, in an era in which “people can record unlimited amounts of instruments and vocals at home, as opposed to needing a label to pay thousands of dollars for a 16-track studio”, Alpers has found her place, and her space. On her own, in isolation.

“I think there’s a lot more interesting, original ideas coming through in music right now,” she says. “If someone has something that they want to express in a really certain way, I think it’s only natural that they work on this themselves to try and communicate that. Does that make someone a control-freak? Maybe. But just because someone might be a control-freak with their art, doesn’t make them a control-freak with people, or with any other part of their life.”

From Beat magazine: Shane Moritz speaks to New Zealand’s most eligible pop lover

“I think I’m just happy looking at the whole Milky Way,” enthuses Bachelorette’s Annabel Alpers. Annabel doesn’t have a favourite constellation, but her favourite Monkee is Mike Nesmith (who is definitely not a constellation, but you never know, give him time anything is possible). “Once when I was 7, my family and I were returning from a trip to the country (actually, from the same hut where I recorded my album) and we saw space rubble flaming through the atmosphere. It descended to the earth in an arc.” Annabel’s connection with the atmosphere is personal, atmospheric even. It bedazzles her mind and infiltrates her music in a bonkers way. She probably has a glow-in-the-dark solar system on her bedroom ceiling.

Her CD Isolation Loops is girly space pop; a galaxy of starry-eyed boy-crushes distilled into electronic snuggles over neon beats. The album neatly evokes Annabel’s ongoing concerns and fascinations: “Boys mainly…People and machines. Trees. Space.” Annabel says the hard part about making a record as complex as Isolation Loops is that it’s never just one thing, it’s several. “A lot of different challenges and frustrations pop up as you’re recording, and you learn a lot along the way. I found that I had to make some concessions with the recording quality in order to get the album finished in the amount of time I gave myself, and I had to learn when to stop working on a track before it became overworked. Often the essence of the original idea for a song can get diluted during the recording process, so I was constantly trying to negotiate that line between retaining the song’s essence and being happy with the production quality. I’m always just learning as I go.” What part of the process comes easiest for you? “Again, I’m not sure that one particular factor is any easier than another. It’s all a challenge, but for some reason it’s a challenge that I enjoy. Music is one of the only things that I’ll happily devote my time to without needing some sort of compensation.”

As a toddler growing up in New Zealand, the star-gazer and supernova melody music maker had an active imagination. “When I was about 3 or 4 I had two imaginary friends called Clennyrule and Clennery who lived inside my family’s piano. I would go up and open the lid and sit there talking to them.” Annabel still lives in New Zealand and has a beef with her friends who visit Melbourne and never come back. She can’t blame them though. Last time she was here she didn’t want to leave either! She played some shows and wowed crowds and now she has even more friends! One of her best friends is The Tranquilizers’ princely Paul Ward. Back in N.Z., they played in a band named after a funky cop show. Upon request, she reluctantly tells a funny story about him. “I think Paul is one of those people that just can’t be joked about. There is one thing though - when he was a kid he had a sticker on his bike helmet that said “Now You’re Jammin!””

Annabel is competent on hundreds perhaps thousands of instruments. And not only does she love them all equally but she will look them in the eye the next morning, which begs the question: if she had to take one instrument to a desert island what one would it be? “Perhaps a ukulele. That would suit the desert island setting.” Now pick an album. “Easy. Panda Bear’s Person Pitch. I never get sick of hearing that album.”

Finally, have you considered what will happen to the name Bachelorette if and when you get married? “I haven’t thought about it, but that’s OK. There are plenty of other band names waiting to be plucked from the ether.”

From The Age: From Cottage to Cosmos

Bachelorette’s beautifully odd, inter-planetary pop seduces Dan Rule.

It’s difficult to conjure a more appropriate title for Isolation Loops, the celestial, future-folk-tinged debut from one-woman computer-pop symphony Bachelorette.

A product of neither a studio nor a hipster art clique, the album’s dulcet melodic tones and art-pop-inspired dynamics were brought to life in an archaic wooden hut on the forest-darkened fringes of the Canterbury Plains on New Zealand’s South Island.

And for a bashful Annabel Alpers, the blunt-fringed 28-year-old musician and sound artist behind the project, it’s a locale that holds a special significance.

“It’s an old family place,” she offers quietly, while chatting from her current home in Christchurch. “My great-grandfather built it and I went there a lot as a kid. It’s very primitive; there’s electricity, obviously, but there’s no hot running water or anything like that.

“It’s in this little valley with some trees, near the mouth of the Rakaia River,” she continues. “It was traditionally a fishing village.”

For Alpers, there couldn’t have been a more conducive environment for making music. “It was just perfect,” she sighs. “I was down there for about three months and there really wasn’t a lot of stimulus outside of the actual process.

“I definitely need a lot of space in order to concentrate on music.”

Alpers, it seems, has always been happy to keep music as her sole companion. Having grown up at the influential musical whim of her older brother, she spent her high school years as “the stereotypical outsider”, engrossed in the angst-riddled noise of bands like the Jesus and Mary Chain, rather than the latest chart hits.

“I just spent all my weekends in my room listening to music,” she laughs.

“That’s all I’d do. I learnt the bass and guitar, and due to my brother, I just got more and more into underground music.”

By the end of high school she was building a collection of antiquated keyboards, later doing a stint in late-’90s NZ psych-pop band Hawaii Five-O. But Alpers also gravitated towards academic fields, studying composition and computer-based sound design at Canterbury and then Auckland universities. And it’s in this context that Bachelorette really began to take form.

“I had been playing more psychedelic rock/pop kind of music in bands,” she says. “But once I was able to access computers with multi-tracking and electronic instrumentation, the more my solo stuff developed and the more fascinating it became. Bachelorette was really born out of computers.”

Beat review:

From the confines of her great-grandfather’s hut in New Zealand’s Canterbury Plains, Annabel Alpers is alone but never lonely. A bachelorette, perhaps, but one with the love and support of her computer and vintage keyboards. There’s also a great deal of self-harmonising, as an army of Alpers create warm and inviting melodies that wrap themselves around the listener like a thermal blanket. This space cadet hasn’t always been playing solitaire - I recall seeing her alongside Paul Ward (The Tranquilizers) in Christchurch band Hawaii 5-0 years back - but it’s clear that, as a solo artist, she is completely in her element.

Isolation Loops is a dizzying blend of indie folk and retro electronica (sci-folk?) that could easily be filed alongside Broadcast or Saturday Looks Good To Me. The songs take inner thoughts (fears, hopes, secret crushes) and beam them into an outer space setting. The “ultimately lonesome” Duet Plus One quickly establishes the unique juxtaposition of the mundane with fantasy - one minute the potential lovers are drinking tea, next comparing “space echoes”. Doo-Wop is a girl-group tribute that gets sucked into a space vacuum, as the smitten gal floats like a cloud into the stratosphere - this is human chemistry through cosmology. Other times, it’s just chemistry: “E = MC2″, Alpers sighs on Complex History of a Dying Star, sung as if this equation somehow explains all of our flaws, dreams and destinies.

The cutesy Poppachino does a dangerous balancing act on the borderline of Tweesville, but generally the element of kitsch is balanced with an organic sensibility and avoids being too whimsical. The best tracks — And The Earth Knew Absence, Isolation — have a quietly disarming quality, and the slow build from lo-fi to technicolour achieved in Your Magic Air is masterful. It’s really quite a debut and one that demands repeat listens. Eleven songs will do for now, but it’s tempting to deadlock the doors of that South Island hut, so Alpers can be forced to endure more unadulterated isolation for the benefit of us all.

by Chris Girdler

Mess + Noise review:

Bachelorette – New Zealand’s Annabel Alpers – seems like the private type. Her pop songs are wrapped up snug in a quilt of digital and analogue patches. They’re obviously all hers, hand woven through and through. On her debut, lyrically, Alpers tends towards the everyday and the simple to charming effects. You get the impression that even a cup of tea for her has the inbuilt soundtrack of Isolation Loops’ space odysseys and whimsical musings. It’s a well-paced and fascinated dawdle through quaint and quiet sounds, filled with bright Casio keyboards gazing out at a carpet of glow-in-the-dark stars.

It’s playful for the most part, but the kitschy keyboard veneer gives way to a poignant sense of storytelling. The sparse ‘And The Earth Knew Absence’ falls after the drum machine-driven ‘Intergalactic Solitude’, beginning with the hushed, ‘I lost my friend today/I can feel his presence all around’. For all the times where Alpers’ voice is buoyant atop her vast palette of sound, there are others where it’s isolated, left floating alone, unguided. This is an insular record, curious; just her voice and ideas on their own, wealthy with inspiration and easy to be swept up by. You glance out the window, the world goes by – it seems faster than usual.

by Richard MacFarlane