Vicar Street, Dublin
18th February 2023
Singular Artists is proud to present one of the most hyped new bands of 2023, FIZZ - made up of dodie, Orla Gartland, Greta Isaac and Martin Luke Brown - at Vicar Street, Dublin on Wednesday 27th September 2023 as part of The Secret To Life Tour.
Tickets on sale now!
Born out of love and blind optimism, FIZZ came together in a whirlwind of pure joy and escapism, inverting everything each artist knew about making music to produce an album with fun and a love of the craft at its core.
FIZZ’s debut album The Secret To Life will be released on 15th September via Decca Records. A collection of 12 tracks that exist somewhere in the space between reality and make believe that came to life at Middle Farm Studios last summer with sonic wizard Pete Miles.
Welcome to FIZZ’s quest to discover the secret to life: infinite, dreamlike, colourful and unpredictable. Maybe the answers were within them all along.
To date the band has shared the album’s first single ‘High In Brighton’, a maximalist, technicolor dream of escaping everyday life. The first song written for the album and the first single to be released, it is here that the band kick off their adventure and their quest to find the secret to life.
Welcome To Fizzville
It’s raining in West London. In a neighbourhood not typically known for housing creatives and not too forgiving about noise complaints; dodie, Orla, Greta and Martin were bored and no amount of mood-boarding or project planning could relieve it.
In her room, dodie hums new melodies, quiet as a mouse; the desire to scream sits in her tummy like a secret she’s not ready to admit to. From the kitchen, Greta and Martin’s conversation turns to another meeting, another day of questioning how to survive the music industry with their sanity intact. Down the street, Orla feels it too, staring blankly at logic files, waiting for something to click. Sick of working all alone, she wants to scream from the rooftop that she’s making something cool, wishes that didn’t feel self-indulgent. She sighs, she wants her friends to come round.
This is a story about the power of friendship. Closing in on a decade of knowing each other, the four friends barely need to even speak about it anymore. It’s there in the silence of a Sunday night film night, in the screams at each other’s shows, or in the casual chat as they paint backdrops or head out on tour. They know the excited teenagers under it all but now find themselves in their 20s, wondering how they get back to how it used to feel - back to all that hope and silliness before any creativity was tied to a deadline or any considerations of sales success or chart position. How do they merge work with the joy that started it all?
Suddenly, in a frenzy of fizzing and electric guitars, they’re pulled up and out of their rooms, floating up in a tractor beam into something new. As a spaceship hovers over the city, the friends reach out in time to find each other's hands, opening their eyes to see label offices and dream venues shrink and fade into insignificance. The wizard in charge, Pete Miles, welcomes them in. “It’s about time”, he says, “I’ve been trying to get you here for ages”. Flying off into a world of bright colours, experimentation without expectation and play without pressure – “welcome to Fizzville”.
“I get the feeling that lately, you’ve been looking for something to inspire you, something to lift you up and get out of that funk? Well, it’s your lucky day because I have just the ticket…”
A flashback hits them all at once, of Pete Miles at Middle Farm Studios trying to convince the friends to be a band, begging them to give it a go. Brushed under the rug of their solo projects, Pete vowed to make it happen one day when they needed it most, when they cried out for answers. And as they look around at this new land of endless play, suddenly finding instruments in their hands, they start to play, singing whatever comes to mind; there are no silly ideas here. All four friends know some prophecy has finally come true. They’re a band now, this is exactly what they needed. Thinking about the feeling in their tummy as the excitement sinks in, they decide to call themselves FIZZ. It suits them.
There’s an ease in their bones as inspiration finds them easily here, without any force or worry. Standing on a stage, FIZZ re-write tragedies into comedies in a way only friends can, singing them loud and proud. Martin sings out for someone in particular, looking out into the crowd and spotting himself. Stopping for a moment to sit down with himself, “wanna play?” young martin asks, handing him a controller. Joined by Greta, Orla and dodie, every friend from back home, the boys from school – all gathered around an old TV; the Rocket League music rings out. “This is the feeling”, he thinks. This is happiness, just playing Rocket League, having a laugh, taking a break.
But the sun can’t always shine. As rain starts to fall, the band run for shelter as the familiar worries from back home find them again. Frustrated, Greta screams out; “is this a good as it gets?” Drums boom to life and the band play on, louder and louder, reaching for catharsis. But out of the corner of her eye, Orla notices dodie falter. “Go for it,” she yells, grabbing dodie’s hand. Sharing a mic, feeling her friend's arm around her and seeing the look of encouragement in the eyes of those she loves most, dodie opens her mouth and a yell escapes. She’s always wanted to belt like that. And when she does, the sky is blue again. The grass is even greener. If this is as good as it gets, they know that it’s pretty fucking good, even if you have to weather a storm.
A voice speaks from the sky. “Welcome to the grand finale” it says as a door creaks open, ushering them out of the dreamland. Stepping through onto a familiar wooden floor, a familiar room – they see Wizard Pete behind the mixing desk telling them it's time to say goodbye. As the band come together one last time, drawing the finale out into a full-scale theatrical production on a level none of them had ever reached before or might not even dare to dream of on their own – they know it’s time to go home. Where you’d expect the sadness to sit, there is nothing but undiluted pride as the friends look around at each other, singing “I’m really going to fucking miss you guys” but knowing they’re not going anywhere.
It’s raining in West London. Martin plays Rocket League, beating personal bests every day. Orla tells a barista she’s working on a new song. Greta and dodie have an idea for a music video and make it.
A small thud disrupts them all as something falls through the letter box. A note reads; “hold onto the feeling but don’t take it too seriously – that’s the only rule”. It’s the best album in the world by a band called FIZZ. Listening back, it sounds like everything. The day in Brighton, that missed flight racing after love, the moment they met, first uploads, last kisses, tears in a taxi, screaming at a party; two weeks at Middle Farm on holiday, accidentally making a record in the joy of it all. It sounds like their friendship. It sounds like them; fizzy and fun.
No one even notices that they didn’t find out the secret to life, I guess it didn’t matter that much in the end.
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