Cleo is a Canadian songwriter whose forthcoming EP is a collision of slowcore, rock and country, resulting in emotionally raw atmospherics. She may be born and raised in the Canadian mid-west to a family of rodeo bull-riders and ranchers, but don’t be fooled; she’s no country artist. She arrived at music with classical guitar, then a foray into songwriting took her to Berklee College of Music and to Umbria Jazz Festival. She did the surf-rock thing whilst training and competing in surfing competitions on Oahu’s North Shore as the first female Canadian shortboard competitor. However, following a surfing accident that resulted in severe brain trauma, her affected modes of memory, motor control and altered vocal capacity have sculpted her sound into what you hear today; luscious, grungy guitars incorporating tremorous hand movements layered with whispered and beckoning vocals. She lays out her stand as an artist with an acute ear for melody, unleashing choruses drenched in euphoria and melancholy. The accident also left her aphantasiac - unable to visualise mental imagery, yet, paradoxically, Cleo’s lyricism is deeply evocative. Written as a stream of consciousness years after the affair, what ensues is a tender dissection of intimacy. Veering from heady elation to heartbreak and back, Cleo’s debut EP is a portrait of a love affair assembled from subtle and detailed fragments - Proustian rushes elicited by a tattoo, a substance, a room.