The Thin Air

Monday Mixtape: Pippa Molony

Following the release of her stellar debut EP, Hungry Ghost, Dublin artist Pippa Molony takes us on a guided tour of some of her all-time favourite songs, featuring Operating Theatre, Jenny Hval, Kelly Moran, Björk and more

Björk – Unison

‘Unison,’ from Björk’s Vespertine, is a song I somehow missed until recently. I’d listened to the album before, saved Frosti to all of my playlists, but Unison slipped past me. I finally heard it for the first time during Benji Reid’s Find Your Eyes at Dublin Theatre Festival—and it hit me like a truck.

This track closes Vespertine. It begins a cappella, with Björk’s voice raw, striking, before transitioning into the experimental production we know and love her for, that still feels accessible. The production is so fun, bubbly, unpredictable and almost childlike, yet the lyrics are very much mature. “I never thought I would compromise”—it’s really romantic. ‘Unison’ is breathtaking.

Jenny Hval – Accident

I love this whole album. I love Jenny Hval—her production, her strange voice and lyrics. ‘Accident,’ a synthy electronic dance track, might be my favourite. Someone in the YouTube comments called it “a soothing assault on the senses,” which feels exactly right. It’s spell-like, mesmerising—a bittersweet song about being ‘childless,’ about once being “a mystery of life” and now being “just less.”

The lyrics contrast between the song’s upbeat, danceable rhythm. Hval describes someone finding stretch mark cream in an Airbnb, rubbing it on their belly, and feeling nothing. What an image. What a thing to feel at such a significant confrontation. I think about that line, she felt nothing.

Listening back, there’s some similarity in my own song, ‘Hungry Ghost’ from the EP. It features similar lyrics: “He stood before the building, he felt nothing, he tested it, he felt nothing.” They’re not my words but Kim Stanley Robinson’s, from his novel The Years of Rice and Salt. I’ve never read the book—a writing mentor shared the passage with me, which would become the lyrics, with the email subject line: feelings about feelings.

There’s so much going on in this track that I sometimes forget it exists—and then, when I listen, I can’t stop. I have to play it on repeat. It never really gets old to me.

Joni Mitchell – Rainy Night House

It’s hard to choose just one Joni Mitchell song to single out. To me, she is one of the most genius songwriters of all time. Of course, I love Blue. It’s a perfect album, and A Case of You—I mean, the first time I heard it, I bawled my eyes out. It’s a perfect song. But I feel like ‘Rainy Night House’ from Ladies of the Canyon is a lesser-known track, and one of her most beautiful.

Joni arranged and produced the track herself, which amazes me. I love how she brings in a chamber choir (entirely her own voice) just once, after the line, “I’m from a Sunday school, I sing soprano in the upstairs choir.” It’s such a fun moment. It reminds me of how she recreated the sound of her “headphones up high” in ‘This Flight Tonight’ (Blue). It was all Joni in the studio, making those decisions.

But ‘Rainy Night House’ is so melancholic and deeply atmospheric. The piano intro is one of her best, and what her voice is doing, it is so much more than just singing a melody. It conveys a whole mood, a particular feeling. Her lyrics are poetry.

I’ve been listening to Joni Mitchell since I was about seventeen, she’s probably the most influential musician in my life. I also think people who are into her music don’t just like it, they are obsessed with it. Her music isn’t something you just have on in the background—it demands your full attention. You sit down, take in every word, every story she’s telling, and the world she’s painting with her voice. She’s really, such a genius.

Roberto Musci – Claudia, Wilhelm R and Me

I’ve loved this song for many years. There’s something magical about it—something I can’t quite put into words. It’s a very special piece of music.

Roberto Musci travelled around Asia and Africa in the 1970s, collecting field recordings in different communities and environments for Tower of Silence. Capturing ‘non-Western’ music, he called it, and then going back to Italy and adding synths and other bits to what he gathered. This track is Zimbabwean folk music, as far as I can tell from what I’ve found online. It sounds like children and young women, accompanied by simple guitar strings and what I think is a rattle drum.

The mix is unusual. The vocals are subdued, almost backgrounded, while the drum and guitar takes prominence. It feels strange, but it works. It’s too beautiful to fully describe; you really just need to listen.

Oneohtrix Point Never – Babylon ft. Alex G

‘Babylon’ was the first song I heard from both Oneohtrix Point Never and Alex G, two artists I love now for very different reasons. Oneohtrix Point Never has been a massive influence on the music I’ve made with Rory Sweeney, such as tracks Chrome Country or Zebra, while Alex G’s folky, intimate sound is a big inspiration for the music I’m gearing up to release soon with Barnburner—a two-piece with my friend David McGuane.

Babylon feels melancholic and reminds me of Elliott Smith (another artist I love). I guess, looking at all my choices for this mixtape, I am beginning to see that I’m really drawn to melancholic tracks with unconventional vocals, especially when they’re disguised as something more upbeat.

At first, it seems like a simple track. But when the strings come in around the two-minute mark, the production starts to shift—it becomes weirder, more unusual. The layers reveal themselves gradually, showcasing the production without overdoing it. It’s subtle. One of those songs I always come back to.

Kelly Moran – Water Music

This prepared piano track by Kelly Moran is my favourite from Ultraviolet. It really does sound like water flowing, fluid and hypnotic. I had the pleasure of hearing it live last year at Foggy Notion’s Haunted Dancehall in the National Concert Hall.

It was a Sunday morning, and I’d performed the night before as part of Rory Sweeney’s set with Aoife Wolfe. The three of us met up again at Kelly Moran’s performance, sitting sleepily on the floor of the upstairs room, others laying down, listening as one song seamlessly flowed into the next. It was perfect—one of the most special gigs I’ve ever been to.

Later, I bumped into Moran in the crowd for Maria Somerville and had the chance to tell her how incredible it was. I think I may have overdone it, but she was very nice. Rory and I really bonded over Ultraviolet when we first started making music together—it’s an album we still talk about often. I listen to it every time I feel a bit uninspired, or when I’ve been listening to too much music and need a musical cleanse. It does the job.

Aldous Harding – Party

The title track from an incredible album. I listened to this so much in my final year of college. I’d sit in my room, procrastinating on my thesis, playing this song over and over on my guitar. I’m not particularly good at guitar, so it was one of those songs I was happy to manage—I could play it and sound okay.

Aldous’s voice is so beautiful, so strange and unnerving. Her lyrics too, just as peculiar and evocative. Take lines like, “He had me sit like a baby / I looked just twelve / With his thumb in my mouth.” They’re unsettling. And then there’s the poignant refrain: “If there is a party, will you wait for me?”

There’s something very mystical about Aldous Harding’s music, and this song particularly. Like so many songs I’ve already mentioned, Party makes me want to cry. I think those are the songs that linger with me most—the ones that feel significant because they move you, taking you somewhere else entirely.

Frou Frou – Let Go

Frou Frou is the electro-pop baby of Imogen Heap and Guy Sigsworth. ‘Let Go’ is the opener of their only album, Details. The whole album is incredible, filled with so many gems. It’s poppy, bright, brimming with energy.

‘Let Go’ opens with these swelling strings that swoop in and out of the track, I’m obsessed with them. Heap’s unmistakable breathy vocals are understated, drawing you in with lyrics that are far more complex and bittersweet for what seems at first to be your standard catchy, joyous pop song. Drums are introduced and the song changes completely. The mix is flawless.

There’s something almost funny about this song to me. It’s so unapologetically overproduced in a way that feels very creative and playful. Heap’s “hey, jah hey” interlude makes me laugh every time because it seems so silly and unexpected. It is a serious-unserious song. When I first heard it, I had it on repeat for weeks, skipping up and down town. It’s the definition of ‘feel good’ music for me.

Crying in Public – Chairlift

Early Caroline!!! Love the production on this track. Caroline Polacheck’s vocals really shine in this song, and the lyrics are great;

“Sorry I’m crying in public this way
I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you
I’m sorry I’m causing a scene on the train
I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you”

There’s something about Crying in Public that feels reminiscent of Frou Frou. Perhaps it’s the male-female electronic duo dynamic, or maybe it’s the way Polachek’s vocal delivery evokes shades of Imogen Heap—though with her own signature flair for vocal acrobatics. It’s easy to imagine that Frou Frou might have been an influence.

It’s a fun song. Despite the wistful, almost forsaken lyrics, Crying in Public feels surprisingly positive overall. There’s a sweetness in its vulnerability, a sense of letting go and embracing love even when it feels overwhelming, similar to that of ‘Let Go.’

Roger Doyle / Operating Theatre – Spring is Coming With a Strawberry in the Mouth

This song is a weird and wonderful masterpiece. So many of my friends are obsessed with it. I was told about it last year, and then Caroline Polacheck released her cover which was very exciting. It’s a great cover, but this Irish original is untouchable…

Operating Theatre, what a bunch of legends. So ahead of their time for 1986… the arrangement is crazy good, and the drums come out of nowhere. Can’t help but smile whenever I hear it. I love showing it to people who’ve never heard it before, because they usually fall in love with it too. It’s timeless.