Vancouver Sleep Clinic – Winter


The once ‘too-cool-for-school’ year 8 punk band player has transformed into the current ridiculously mature old soul and creator of Vancouver Sleep Clinic (VSC) – Tim Bettinson (at the ripe age of 17 years). VSC is sheathed in metaphoric tokens of cold winters, solitude and seclusion. Although, the passionate 17-year old Tim has managed to encapsulate these dark images and bottle them up into his most recent EP Winter. These tracks have the ability to breathe chills down your spine, as VSC soothingly explores those hidden, dark corners of your mind.

The powerfully delicate and soul-searching nature of the tracks are carried by Tim’s uplifting and poetic hones. Some bloggers have labelled this new electronic/alternative EP as “cathartic” and “ethereal”, yet somehow these words do not seem to suffice. The use of cheap microphones, soaring falsetto vocals and progressive synths offer up a hearty and wholesome soup of Winter worth consuming. “Collapse” ventures down a rainy avenue of emotion, revealing the despair that hits us at first in difficulties. It’s hard to believe that this track, sunk in emotional goodness, was written in the back of Tim’s Maths book during an endless 80 minute lesson. “Flaws” lays out the burdens of an imperfect humanity, yet allows beauty and hope to echo out through the serene melodic harmonisation.

Tim’s creation of something beautiful has earned him significant support slots with international bands like London Grammar and Daughter at sold out venues all around Australia. VSC’s next tour will be in August in the UK, but don’t despair! This creative project is accessible from home, in bed, wooly socks and jumpers on, clasping a hot mug of tea in our hands.

List of tracks:
1. Collapse
2. Flaws
3. Stakes
4. (Aftermath)
5. Vapour
6. Rebirth


Hometown: Brisbane, Australia.
Latest EP: Winter, released 10 March 2014.
Sounds like: Bon Iver, Oliver Tank.
Say what? The only place where Tim’s former glorious middle-school punk band’s tunes can be found is on his dad’s iPod.

Je suis la imaginer, Imogen



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