There’s a distinct magic in discovering an artist who ditches the glossy façade of modern production for something a little more tactile, a little more human. On ‘Memory Shift’, Found Instruments- the solo project of Jack Joseph Titcombe- achieves exactly that. This isn’t just a sonic shift for the artist, it’s a recalibration of process and perspective, both personal and musical.
Gone are the synthetic pulses and programmed beats of past efforts. In their place are mic’d-up garage sessions, a combo organ saturated in grit, and drums recorded through a vintage ribbon mic that feels like it’s seen more pub gigs than plugins. It’s charmingly unpolished, evoking the spirit of early Kinks recordings or a lost Zombies B-side, with all the warmth and character that implies.
But what really makes ‘Memory Shift’ sing is the concept buried beneath the fuzz. Titcombe turns inward, unpacking how memory can morph under the weight of time and lived experience. It’s a theme many have explored, but few have rendered so deftly through both words and arrangement. As the combo organ lurches like a carousel that’s just slightly off its axis, the song carries a strange familiarity, like recalling an old photograph and realising the smile you remember wasn’t quite what it seemed.
There’s a sense of deliberate imperfection here, which works in the track’s favour. The drums are raw and immediate, the production lean but intentional. It all supports a reflective lyric without being overwrought, and personal without slipping into solipsism. This is memory as patchwork- bits of truth, a little distortion, and just enough space to let you fill in the blanks.
‘Memory Shift’ isn’t trying to be grand, and that’s its strength. It’s a quiet revelation- one that rewards repeated listens and welcomes you into the room where it was built: dusty, dimly lit, and brimming with authenticity.