Ninca Leece - Feed Me Rainbows

Resident Advisor

In a music scene where party is king, love songs are often few and far between. Ninca Leece's Feed Me Rainbows, the third issue on Bruno Pronsato's thesongsays imprint, offers nothing less than a love song, and story, in two parts. Appropriately, Leece's original is accompanied by a remix from Public Lover, a new collaboration with her beau Bruno. Despite the poetic lyrics, the release abandons the pop sensibility of Leece's recent album, There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream, in favor of a far dreamier presentation. Bright, breathy vocals about smiles and childhood still play a central role, but her seductively whispered "feed me rainbows" is presented as a part of something greater here. The opening moments call to mind the emotive reverb of My Bloody Valentine's Loveless, and the track accelerates with the warble of something akin to Snoopy's jaw harp, a chirp that leads you by the hand into the belly of the track's psychedelia. A beautiful bassline plays in the background while an echoing Rhodes-y loop spins round and round. Unkempt claps join snappy snares leading to the exit, where gorgeous chords emerge like an oncoming dawn. The Public Lover rendition is hazier and more mischievous than its feminine counterpoint. Here we find the discordant lilt familiar to fans of Pronsato's other projects—Leece's soft French accent is distorted, as if the memory represented here was recorded onto tape that had begun to erode. Sultry shaker sounds roll into ambient moments of doubt, and a careful listen can make your flesh begin to bristle. But the uncomfortable tension orchestrated in these bars is broken by a welcome belt from the pair—"the world is our concierge"—as the song unfolds again into measured bliss. The only confusing moment comes with the onset of a foreground conversation from the cutting room; though it's intriguing to hear a bit about the recording methods behind this enchanting aural story, here the talking interrupts the trance—only for a moment. Before long, the playful Rhodes have returned to drive this pony home. The end result is a perfect glow to accompany the final melting away of winter. Words / Sarah Joy MurrayPublished / Thu, 06 May 2010

Magazine: Resident Advisor


Ninca Leece: There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream


For her debut solo album, Ninca Leece throws small organic touches (think: babbling child) and quirky glitches into a melodic dreamland that alternates between subtle Télépopmusik-era house and bouncy electro-pop. The playful French producer's vocals could easily go bitchy à la Miss Kittin, but tend to end up cheery and sweet, as exemplified by the infectious, funky-bass-inflected single "Sitting on Top of the World." Where Leece opts to croon in her native tongue ("The Beast"), her simple lyrics suddenly become mysterious and sensual. She makes a pretty but unexciting pass through familiar territory with a cover of The Cure's "Love Song" (she should have done it in French!), but provides a compelling mess of her own texture on "Aseptique."

Magazine: XLR8R


Ninca Leece - Feed Me Rainbows


Only two releases old, Thesongsays has already accrued an interesting profile. It was initially a platform for Bruno Pronsato’s own productions, chiefly LWE’s number four tune of 2009 “The Make Up The Break Up,” a druggy 38-minute trip through his soundbank. Yet release number two was penned by the hitherto unknown team of Benoit & Sergio, featuring the lovely, saccharine “Full Grown Man.” The third single from Thesongsays is equally unexpected, arriving under the auspices of Franco-German producer Ninca Leece who released an album titled There Is No One Else When I Lay Down And Dream earlier this year. Feed Me Rainbows certainly piques my interest like its predecessors and has me wanting to know more. Kicking off with buzzing feedback and droney guitar soundscapes, you would be forgiven for thinking the first couple minutes of “Feed Me Rainbows” sounds like an old Cluster tune. Far from aping anyone or sounding unoriginal, however, Ninca’s slight narration and broken kick drum patterns firmly contextualize things within the 21st century. Once the kick stabilizes, the terrain grows spongey and a killer bass line rears its head, allowing all the pieces fall into place. It’s enough to have long-time techno heads pulling out those Neu! records and reevaluating just how danceable they could have been. Krautrock and techno are hardly strange bedfellows, but when the two are combined this well I just can’t help but enjoy the hell out of it. It feels almost too short at ten minutes, but throughout its length I feel like chomping on (if I had to guess) Froot-Loop-flavored rainbows myself. Even more surprising than side A is the reshape provided by Public Lover (aka Ninca and Bruno Pronsato) on the flip. Their slow, post-mnml brew of organ chords and snappy percussion just doesn’t capture me the same way the original does. While hardly stagnant throughout its 16 minute run time — indeed, Bruno can be found discussing recording in stereo while Ninca sneezes — its spacey drift lacks the drive that made “Feed Me Rainbows” so magnetic. » Chris Miller | April 22nd, 2010



Ninca Leece: There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream


After Ninca Leece opens her mouth on 'Touriste', the first cut on 'There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream’, it becomes impossible not to think of Björk. It’s an unfortunate first impression, as the remainder of Leece’s debut album testifies to someone who’s at home with their own identity. Leece was born in Britanny’s capital Rennes and moved to the Netherlands when she was 16. Nowadays, she’s resident in Berlin and has spent time in China, Poland, Finland and Brazil. She’s written soundtracks for animator Marco Morandi and has performed as Public Lover with Bruno Pronsato. Now, though, she seems to have found an equilibrium with her debut album, issued by the German label Bureau B. Whatever the globe hopping, the all-electronic 'There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream' is recognisably French, marrying a humanised take on Cold Wave to a songwriting style that’s familiarly Gallic. Understated melodies arc romantically with a yearning that’s easy to like. She’s said that the album is about love. Some songs are in English, others in French. A cover of The Cure’s 'Lovesong' seems pointless in the company of an assured electro pop that ranges through the acid-housey pulses of 'You’re Walking in My Head' and the glitchily fragmented 'Aseptique'. Standout track 'Funny Symphony' has the bounce of 'Technique'-era New Order and an insistently inescapable melody. Always warmly emotive, 'There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream' is – strictly-speaking – a Gallo-German album. There’s no reason why more borders shouldn’t be breached. © Kieron Tyler

Magazine: Rockfort


Breaking Act: Ninca Leece


Who is she? A Berlin-based French musician, Ninca Leece is a school of Miss Kittin, Björk and Robyn practitioner of minimal, precise-diction electro and house, all brooding soundscapes, stark repetition, Teutonic propulsion, explosions of pop brightness and hooks that lodge, immovably, in your head. “It’s about glitchiness, quirkiness, sexiness,” the singer herself says of a debut album — There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream — whose sonic architecture clanks, plinks, plonks and clatters along beneath a succession of melodies that could, placed within more conventional arrangements, storm the charts. Happily for us, Leece prefers to operate outside the mainstream. When’s the record out? There Is No One Else When I Lay Down and Dream is released tomorrow on Bureau B; Dan Cairns



Spektakuläre Selbstauflösung von Musik und sonstige Sonderbarkeiten


pektakuläre Selbstauflösung von Musik und sonstige Sonderbarkeiten: Neues von Raz Ohara und Ninca Leece Diesmal hat es Raz Ohara aufs Land verschlagen. Als dänischer Wahlberliner, Großstadtmensch, als Technomusiker und Produzent mag ihm das wohl wie eine dramatische Richtungsentscheidung vorgekommen sein. Keine stinkenden Clubs, keine chemischen Drogen, keine durchtanzten Nächte. Stattdessen: gemütliche Stunden in der Abendsonne, zirpende Grillen, Wind in den Weiden, so ein Zeug halt. In der Folge gibt es nun Fotos, in denen Ohara das Wasser eines brandenburgischen Sees bis zum Hals steht. Und man kann versuchen zu ermitteln, ob sich "II" anders anhört als diese ganze andere Musik heutzutage, die nur in einem Berliner Hinterhofwohnzimmer am Laptop eingespielt wurde. Womöglich ist ja tatsächlich Mutter Natur schuld, dass das neue und bei dem Titel leicht erkennbar zweite Album von Raz Ohara And The Odd Orchestra noch ein wenig verspielter klingt als das erste. Vielleicht ist das ganze Grünzeug auch verantwortlich dafür, dass der knisternde Jazz nurmehr eine Nebenrolle einnimmt und abgelöst wurde von Stimmungen, die man eher im Folk verorten würde. Vielleicht aber auch nicht, denn ansonsten bleibt vieles beim Alten: Die Songstrukturen lösen sich auf, die Beats verlieren stets schnell ihr Ziel, und irgendwann forscht eigentlich fast jeder Track nurmehr einer sehr ungewissen Laune nach. Dazwischen zirpt und blubbert es, die Gitarre von Tom Krimi klappert so vor sich hin, wenn nicht gerade Oliver Dorell, das letzte Drittel des merkwürdigen Orchesters, ein paar Geräusche durchs Wohlgefühl wabern lässt. Aber ob diese Sounds nun aus einem angrenzenden Wald stammen oder direkt aus dem Computer kommen, ist letztlich egal. Denn sehr notdürftig zusammengehalten wird diese fein ziselierte, wundervoll konstruierte Atmosphärenmusik eh nur von Oharas Vokalakrobatik. Selten ging die Selbstauflösung von Musik so spektakulär vonstatten. Live zu hören ist die am heutigen Freitag zusammen mit der aus Georgien stammenden Sängerin Natalie Beridze um 21.30 Uhr im HAU 2. Ninca Leece dagegen hat es nach Berlin verschlagen. Die in Rennes geborene Französin studierte in Rotterdam Musik, aber vermutlich nicht den Minimal Techno und die House Music, die sie nun sehr versiert programmiert. Die souverän pluckernden Beats fusioniert sie auf ihrem Debütalbum "There Is No One Else When I Lay Down And Dream" mit einem bewundernswert naiven Willen zum Pop und einem charmant akzentgeschwängerten Gesang. Diese Kombination funktioniert viel besser, als man hätte denken sollen: Tracks wie "The Beast" kann man sich in einem schäbigen Kellerclub gut vorstellen, das pumpende "On Top Of The World" dafür in einer glitzernden Großraumdisco. Die Gefahr allerdings, dass Leece demnächst Lady Gaga oder gar Kesha Konkurrenz macht, besteht aber trotzdem nicht. Da sind noch ein paar ungeschliffene Ecken und Kanten in den von Leece produzierten Stücken, und anderes wiederum ist viel zu experimentell für die Charts. Selten ging die Verweigerung einer Popstarkarriere so eingängig vonstatten. THOMAS WINKLER Raz Ohara And The Odd Orchestra: "II" (Get Physical/Rough Trade), am 19. 3. im HAU2 Ninca Leece: "There Is No One Else When I Lay Down And Dream" (Bureau B/Indigo), am 3. 4. im Farbfernseher

Magazine: taz


There Is No One Else When I Lay Down And Dream


Bureau B present the debut offering from Franco-German electro-chanteuse Ninca Leece, whose There Is No One Else When I Lay Down And Dream is an impressively complete package, all performed, produced and penned by Leece herself, with the exception of the album's only cover: 'Lovesong', by The Cure. It's a testament to the prominence of Leece's own personal style that it merges into her corpus of work so smoothly. Opening cut 'Touriste' is an ideal port of entry into Leece's world, pointing to references like Ellen Allien's Berlinette album, or perhaps the most beat-oriented Barbara Morgenstern recordings. By the time former single 'On Top Of The World' rolls around the production toughens up into a midtempo 4/4 format, with a Miss Kittin-like, half-spoken delivery. From here on the playlist fluctuates between various degrees of clubby appeal and poppiness, striking a great balance on a track like 'The Uncut Version', a terrific slice of glitchy future disco.

Magazine: Boomkat