Murex’s “Mothers Bells” is a glitchy, Bach-inspired reminder of home

Arriving 25 September via Young Recordings, Murex’s first full-length LP came from her undeniable urge to create. “The music just came out in some sort of desperation,” she tells BEST FIT. “Creating, whether it's the visual side or the musical side, is in order for me to understand what I'm going through and what I'm feeling and thinking.” The album, she adds, finally takes it seriously: “It felt necessary to do it justice, almost for myself.”

Murex grew up in the north of Sweden, near the tip of the Bothnian Bay, surrounded by classical music. Her grandfather played the organ in church; her relatives sang in the choir; she followed. “I got to know my voice when I sang in choir and I kind of found my musical ear that way.” At home, she learned piano, and developed a deep fixation with Bach’s Inventions. Specifically the canon of the melodies, each one folding into and overtaking the next. “Playing that was so soothing for my brain,” she says. You can hear said structural influence through everything Murex makes. Layered, textured, and difficult to listen to, but deeply complementary and satisfying.

“Mothers Bells” was the last song Murex wrote for Inventio. Explaining that the record is a restless search for herself, this track symbolises the calm after the storm. “The moment where I was surrendering myself to peace and calmness,” she says. “It's the song that allowed me to land back in my body.” The title is inspired by a set of bells her mother keeps hanging in their family hallway. It’s an image that became an internal compass. “When I needed to feel a sense of, ‘okay, it's going to be fine, I could just think about Mothers Bells.’” This comfort is something Murex takes beyond just her own head. “You can always find bells in each city, in whatever country you're in, and it can be this little support you have around you.” The name Murex comes from a long-held childhood obsession with shells: “I've just been a collector of tiny things.”

Sonically, the track is built around a vocal sample, then layered with Korg synths and cello played by a friend – a collaboration Murex describes as symbolic. “I just love to contrast big electronic sounds with acoustic textures,” she expresses. “The drums are heavy and distorted. Then the cello comes in, rough and abrasive, but it plays the soft part in it all.” Splendidly, she self-produces everything, and her instinct is always the same: “I try to tell the story as well as I can with each sound. I want them all to have a distinct character.”

Murex is a creative that isn’t constrained by one expertise. “I like to experiment a lot with different outlets, I love drawing and that’s a big part of the visual world.” The artwork is from the artist's hand, and rather than take the album on the road, she is planning something more immersive. A short film, to be exact, built around a soundtrack of vocal and choir arrangements of the record's songs, written and directed by her. “I want to present it through Murex's eyes.”