Mick Harvey & Amanda Acevedo - Phantasmagoria In Blue (LP)

Mick Harvey has spent decades making other people sound dangerous and beautiful, from the scorched elegance of The Birthday Party to the long shadow of the Bad Seeds and those peerless Serge Gainsbourg translations. So when he pairs up with Mexican vocalist Amanda Acevedo on Phantasmagoria In Blue, released in 2023 on Mute, the immediate draw is chemistry. Not the fireworks kind. The slow burn kind that sneaks up on you by the second track and keeps deepening every time you return to it.

Harvey has always had a gift for the frame. He knows how to place a voice, how to let guitars glow like streetlights after rain, how to make a snare tick feel like a heartbeat you suddenly notice. Acevedo steps right into that world with a tone that is clear and unforced, slightly luminous around the edges, and never rushed. The two sing like they are passing a story across a table, each line considered, each harmony a small decision. You can hear the trust. It is that old cinema trick where nothing is overplayed, which only makes you lean in closer.

The record finds them trading and entwining across a set of interpreted pieces, a space Harvey understands better than most. The arrangements are spare but rich. Guitars are clean yet shadowed, organ and piano sit low in the mix, and strings show up like a cigarette curl in a late scene. You get that classic Harvey feel, the one that threads through his Gainsbourg projects and his solo albums, yet it never lapses into pastiche. Acevedo keeps the light moving. She phrases with a jazz singer’s poise, then turns around and lands something almost folk-simple, and it just works.

Production feels tactile, the kind of record that rewards a quiet room and a proper turntable. Phantasmagoria In Blue vinyl brings out the air around the voices and the soft grit in the guitars, and side splits make sense emotionally, not just by running time. If you are the type who still checks deadwax and lines up the runout groove just so, this one is a pleasure. It is also a lovely gateway if you are looking to buy Mick Harvey records online and want something that shows his arranger side without losing the intimacy of a duet record.

There is a patient mood to the whole thing, but it never sags. Harvey’s baritone, slightly weathered, slips between lead and support, sometimes stepping back to let Acevedo carry the melody, then returning with a low harmony that changes the colour of the whole phrase. It is the same instinct that made him such a vital foil in the Bad Seeds, turning negative space into drama. Here, it is gentler, more lantern light than floodlight, yet the effect is just as striking.

A neat part of the album’s appeal is how it travels. You can feel traces of Melbourne night streets and small hours studios in the way the instruments breathe, and you can imagine Mexico City in the poise of Acevedo’s delivery. Nothing is over-signposted. The record trusts you. It offers clarity rather than volume, a trait that makes it an easy recommendation for anyone browsing Mick Harvey vinyl or Amanda Acevedo’s work for the first time. It also sits neatly alongside other Mick Harvey albums on vinyl, a companion piece to his interpreter’s craft while standing as its own quiet statement.

Critics picked up on that restraint and glow, and fans seem to have found their favourite cuts quickly, the kind that slip onto late playlists and stay there. You might come for the names on the spine, but you stay for the tone, the unhurried pulse, the way small musical decisions add up to something that lingers. That is the record’s trick, and it sticks.

If you are in the habit of flipping through bins at a Melbourne record store, or trawling for vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out for this one. Phantasmagoria In Blue feels like a keeper, the sort of collaboration that knows exactly how loud it needs to be, and no louder. Put it on, let the room settle, and listen to two voices find their shared centre. It is a quiet thrill, and it keeps giving.