Marcus Whale’s music reads like a prayer. Submerged in tenderness, divinity and devotion, Marcus uses music to transport a feeling of elevation, as if you’re being lifted above ground by a higher power. All is unravelled within Marcus’ blend of ambient electronic and synth-pop. But these labels simplify music that sounds inherently genreless – an auditory adventure best understood when felt rather than explained.
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On their latest project “Ecstasy”, Marcus bewitches the listener through every twist and turn of their voice. With harmonies, haunting vocal echoes, relentless kick drums and synths, you’re taken into the middle of an empty dancefloor – a place of safety and comfort – and forces you to forfeit your body to the music.
Marcus likens this experience to that of praise and worship, a sacred and vulnerable church tradition that allows you to surrender yourself to God. These themes of spirituality and submission stem from Marcus’ time singing in the Catholic Cathedral choir at Sydney’s St Mary’s Cathedral, a deeply influential and formative part of their music journey. “It was an incredible experience, but really intense,” they told VICE.“Performing music every week, sometimes twice a week at mass, and practising three times a week, just being super immersed in the liturgy of Catholicism which is very picturesque and icon-based, that to this day has proved a really enduring influence on the stuff I make.”Marcus describes the experience as almost like “eroticism of the Catholic service”, where they were drawn most to the smells, sounds and mysticism behind reaching for a higher power.“Being gay made it a bit strange, and eventually made me draw away from the dogmatic aspects of it,” they said.“I’m an atheist now, and to me, that’s not even relevant. It’s about the power of the music in the space, and the power of the liturgy and what that does to people in a room.”
Marcus likens this experience to that of praise and worship, a sacred and vulnerable church tradition that allows you to surrender yourself to God. These themes of spirituality and submission stem from Marcus’ time singing in the Catholic Cathedral choir at Sydney’s St Mary’s Cathedral, a deeply influential and formative part of their music journey. “It was an incredible experience, but really intense,” they told VICE.“Performing music every week, sometimes twice a week at mass, and practising three times a week, just being super immersed in the liturgy of Catholicism which is very picturesque and icon-based, that to this day has proved a really enduring influence on the stuff I make.”Marcus describes the experience as almost like “eroticism of the Catholic service”, where they were drawn most to the smells, sounds and mysticism behind reaching for a higher power.“Being gay made it a bit strange, and eventually made me draw away from the dogmatic aspects of it,” they said.“I’m an atheist now, and to me, that’s not even relevant. It’s about the power of the music in the space, and the power of the liturgy and what that does to people in a room.”
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When Marcus first shared the project with their loved ones, many described the listening experience like being “stretched between heaven and hell”. And from the first listen it’s obvious where this understanding comes from: the music is an out-of-body experience. And that comes down to Marcus’ decision to create the album without narrative, so that those who engage with it can interpret its messaging on a more personal and intimate level.
“If I make what I make for me, and to satisfy my desires and deepest impulses, then that counterintuitively is closer to something that someone can connect with because I’m leaving it open ended,” they said.“I’m almost satisfied with my sensual urges as a listener, and I love that it’s openness can allow other people to have different responses to it. That’s why the project is more feelings based, it’s almost responding to the sensuality of the music.”Taking a look into Marcus’ sonic world and seeing the sensitivity, consideration and careful thought put towards the sound and stories told, it’s clear that music goes beyond a lifestyle. Everything is created with intention and purpose. And when we ask Marcus about their reason why, it’s clear that music is an inherent need, not a want.“I think I just need to do it,” they said.“The process of making it and performing it feels like my purpose in life. It is what I am. Which I don’t think is necessarily healthy, people are more than what they make, right?”“But performing, that’s when I feel that this is what my life is about,”“It’s my comfort zone.”
Adele is the Junior Writer & Producer for VICE AU/NZ. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter here.
Read more from VICE Australia and subscribe to our weekly newsletter, This Week Online.
“If I make what I make for me, and to satisfy my desires and deepest impulses, then that counterintuitively is closer to something that someone can connect with because I’m leaving it open ended,” they said.“I’m almost satisfied with my sensual urges as a listener, and I love that it’s openness can allow other people to have different responses to it. That’s why the project is more feelings based, it’s almost responding to the sensuality of the music.”Taking a look into Marcus’ sonic world and seeing the sensitivity, consideration and careful thought put towards the sound and stories told, it’s clear that music goes beyond a lifestyle. Everything is created with intention and purpose. And when we ask Marcus about their reason why, it’s clear that music is an inherent need, not a want.“I think I just need to do it,” they said.“The process of making it and performing it feels like my purpose in life. It is what I am. Which I don’t think is necessarily healthy, people are more than what they make, right?”“But performing, that’s when I feel that this is what my life is about,”“It’s my comfort zone.”
Adele is the Junior Writer & Producer for VICE AU/NZ. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter here.
Read more from VICE Australia and subscribe to our weekly newsletter, This Week Online.