Articles

Prog | December 2018

Public Service Broadcasting

Venue | Royal Albert Hall, London
Date | 01/11/2018

If Public Service Broadcasting have sometimes suggested an air of fusty academia, all history lessons and libraries, tonight’s the night they shake that off. Reaching a career pinnacle by selling out the Royal Albert Hall, they fill it with colour, physicality and even a dash of showbiz. By the time the brass section in gold sequinned jackets are gyrating downstage with two extras in astronaut suits, exhorting the audience to dance, there’s no denying it: PSB are fun. Intelligent, innovative and atmospheric, but also emotive and exciting. They’re the little band that got big fast, but they’re using the G-force to their advantage.

With tracks that marry krautrock-electronica instrumentals to astutely judged samples capturing the heroism and drame of mountain-climbing, space travel and the fall of the South Wales mining industry, they’re not, on paper, a party band. Yet people have caught on to the adrenaline rush inherent in their sonic stories. ‘A climber climbs with his guts, his brain, his soul and his feet’, declares Everest. The band have realised the brain can’t make the summit alone, so they’ve kept rising. Tonight’s show simmers, then soars.

Diffident fulcrum J Wilgoose Esq plays guitars like Michael Rother and keyboards like OMD, while the rhythm section of drummer Wrigglesworth and bassist (and multi-instrumentalist) JF Abraham bring flesh and blood to the high concepts. Abraham is key to the visual element, his highly mobile enthusiasm a bridge to the crowd. Sure, the films (with relevant topics, from space modules to miners’ wives) and lighting are impressive, but to see musicians playing and hitting stuff gives the mood a heat you wouldn’t get with anonymous tweakers standing behind laptops. There’s a string section and intermittent cameos, ensuring the Chemical Brothers-style electronic backdrops support rather than swallow the humanity. Given that PSB’s chosen themes regard the best aspects of humanity – courage, nobility, resilience – that’s shrewd.

White Star Liner, from the invigorating new EP concerning the Titanic, gets a London debut. Otherwise, the set swoops between favourites, from Every Valley to Sputnik to Spitfire. Tracyanne Campbell sings Progress, Haiku Salut perform They Gave Me A Lamp and Lisa Jên joins a bashful Wilgoose for the incongruous ballad duet You + Me.

Everyone’s up and air-punching for the climax of The Other Side and Go. Clearly a rush for the incredulous South London band, it’s been an inspiring, motivating night, co-opting the daring of the space race protagonists and the steadfast pathos of the neglected Welsh communities. Then, as the ensemble departs, the Beaufort Male Choir bestride the stage to sing Take Me Home, and we learn how many coals it takes to fill the Albert Hall. Not a dry eye in the house. We’ve been taken to the other side.

Chris Roberts

Prog | décembre 2018

Public Service Broadcasting

Lieu | Royal Albert Hall, Londres
Date | 01/11/2018

Si Public Service Broadcasting ont parfois suggéré un air de monde universitaire qui sent le renfermé, tout en cours d’histoire et bibliothèques, ce soir, c’est le soir où ils se défont de tout cela. Atteignant un apogée de carrière en vendant le Royal Albert Hall à guichets fermés, ils le remplissent de couleur, de réalité physique et même d’une pointe de showbiz. Au moment où la section de cuivres aux vestes en sequins dorés tournoie sur scène avec deux figurants vêtus de costumes d’astronautes, encourageant le public à danser, on ne peut nier que PSB sont marrants. Intelligents, innovateurs et atmosphériques, certes, mais également sensibles et formidables. C’est le petit groupe qui est devenu rapidement grand, mais ils utilisent le G à leur avantage.

Avec des morceaux qui marient des instrumentales krautrock-electronica à des samples astucieusement jaugés capturant l’héroïsme et le drame de l’escalade, du voyage dans l’espace et du déclin de l’industrie minière du Sud du Pays de Galles, ils ne sont pas, sur le papier, un groupe de fêtards. Pourtant les gens ont saisi la poussée d’adrénaline inhérente à leurs histoires sonores. “Un grimpeur grimpe avec son ventre, son cerveau, son âme et ses pieds”, déclare Everest. Le groupe s’est rendu compte que le cerveau ne peut atteindre le sommet seul, alors ils ont continué à monter. Le concert de ce soir bouillonne, puis s’envole.

Le point d’appui réservé J. Willgoose, Esq. joue de la guitare comme Michael Rother et du clavier comme OMD, tandis que la section rythmique du batteur Wrigglesworth et du bassiste (et multi-instrumentaliste) JF Abraham apporte de la chair et du sang aux grands concepts. Abraham est la clé de l’élément visuel, son enthousiasme grandement mobile un pont vers le public. Il est certain que les fims (avec des sujets pertinents, de modules spatiaux aux femmes de mineurs) et les lumières sont impressionnants, mais voir des musiciens jouer et frapper des choses donne à l’humeur une chaleur qu’on n’aurait pas avec des anonymes qui tripotent des ordinateurs. Il y a une section à cordes et des caméos intermittents, assurant une toile de fond électronique à la Chemical Brothers sans absorber l’humanité. Étant donné que les thèmes choisis par PSB concernant les meilleurs aspects de l’humanité – le courage, la noblesse, la ténacité – c’est malin.

White Star Liner, extrait du nouvel EP revigorant à propos du Titanic, est joué pour la première fois à Londres. Sinon, le set zappe entre les favoris, de Every Valley à Spitfire en passant par Sputnik. Tracyanne Campbell chante sur Progress, Haiku Salut apparaissent sur They Gave Me A Lamp et Lisa Jên Brown rejoint un timide Willgoose pour le duo ballade incongru You + Me.

Tout le monde lève le bras et bat de l’air pour le grand moment de The Other Side et Go!. Clairement une montée pour l’incrédule groupe du Sud de Londres, cela a été une soirée inspirante et motivante, récupérant l’audace des protagonistes de la course à l’espace et le pathos inébranlable des communautés galloise négligées. Puis, alors que l’ensemble s’en va, le Beaufort Male Choir enfourche la scène pour chanter Take Me Home, et nous apprenons combien de charbon il faut pour remplir l’Albert Hall. Tout le monde a les larmes aux yeux. Ils nous ont emmenés de l’autre côté.

Chris Roberts

Traduction : 26 janvier 2022

Prog | September 2018

Bluedot Festival

Venue | Jodrell Bank, Cheshire
Date | 19-22/07/18

[…]

Earlier in the evening on the main stage, Public Service Broadcasting deliver the goods, dedicating Theme From PSB to Bernard Lovell and his famous landmark. Their set is equally weighted between songs from latest album Every Valley and the more site-friendly The Race For Space. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the biggest crowd-pleasers come from the latter: the jubilant Go! and the brass-heavy pump of Gagarin.

[…]

Rob Hughes

Prog | septembre 2018

Bluedot Festival

Lieu | Jodrell Bank, Cheshire
Date | 19-22/07/18

[…]

Plus tôt dans la soirée sur la scène principale, Public Service Broadcasting répond aux attentes, dédicaçant Theme From PSB à Bernard Lovell et son monument célèbre. Leur set est également réparti entre les chansons de leur dernier album Every Valley et le plus adapté au lieu The Race For Space. Peut-être sans surprise, les chansons qui plaisent le plus au public sont extraites de ce dernier : Go!, débordant de joie, et Gagarin et ses cuivres prononcés.

[…]

Rob Hughes

Traduction : 26 janvier 2022

MOJO | May 2013


PUBLIC SERVICE BROADCASTING ****

Inform – Educate – Entertain Test Card. CD/LP

History-rocking London duo raid the archives.

When playing live, Public Service Broadcasting have a computer to make stage announcements; but rather than a cold robot voice, it’s a simulated Received Pronunciation radio presenter that tells the crowd they’re looking good. Such is the group’s Reithian, time-slipped world, which mainman J. Willgoose envisaged when hopped up on BFI Public information films. Overlaying adrenalised post-rock and electronics with sampled dialogue from movies of the ’30s to the ’50s may sound like a dry premise, but there is a strange and gripping transport to be had in these imaginative flights concerning climbing Mount Everest, the Luftwaffe-bashing Spitfire and, in the Kraftwerk-in-a-garden-shed banjo clap-along ROYGBIV, the glories of science (are PSB driven by bygone but benign, pipe-smoking idea of manliness that seems so out dated it’s become avant-garde?). File admiringly next to British Sea Power and the Hauntologist tendency.

Ian Harrison

The Sunday Times | 9 July 2017

Public Service Broadcasting
Every Valley
Pias

The decline of the Welsh mining industry doesn’t sound like a pop topic, but in the hands of a band whose albums have explored the space race and inventions including colour TV, it provides inspiration. The sample-centric Londoners raid the archives for footage (Richard Burton’s booming voice included) to tell a stirring community tale via disco, broody post-rock, jittery electro and beguiling folk. James Dean Bradfield and Camera Obscura’s Tracyanne Campbell guest alongside a male-voice choir, colliery brass and sumptuous strings.

LV

The Bristol Post | 24 April 2015

REVIEW: Public Service Broadcasting, Bristol O2 Academy by Mike Norton 5/5

There were so many moments of sublime beauty during this stellar performance that it’s almost impossible to pick one out. But, for me, the highpoint came just over half-way through when the two singers from able support act The Smoke Fairies came back on stage to sing Valentina.

It’s not a complicated song. A clever, skippy drumbeat. A plaintive arpeggio picked out on a spacey guitar. A wash of electronic backfill. And the two women singing the word « Valentina » between them. But the sum of these parts was simply splendid – poignant, soaring and hypnotic. When the song finished and the cheering had died down, the packed O2 Academy audience seemed almost stunned in to silence. And then a woman near the back said: « Your band is brilliant ». She didn’t shout it. She just said it quite loudly. And she spoke for everyone there.

Public Service Broadcasting have come a long way since they were last in Bristol in November 2013. With one album under their belt, I wondered then if their idea of creating songs around samples from information films from the 40s and 50s was sustainable. This year’s second album The Race for Space – which takes samples from the US and Russian space programmes of the 60s – has proved that it is.

Live, there are just four band members. « Frontman » and musical virtuoso J Wildgoose esq (who neither sings nor talks), superb drummer Wrigglesworth, audio-visual expert Mr B (inventor of a model sputnik that rose from the stage during the set) and new member J F Abraham on percussion, bass and flugelhorn. There was also the surprise appearance of a brass section for a couple of numbers.

Interestingly, the average age of the audience (probably 40-plus) was significantly older than that of the band itself. That’s probably why, despite many of the songs’ driving beats, there was no mosh pit, no excessive exuberance at the front. At the most, I saw widespread and enthusiastic head-nodding.

The band’s clever blend of voices and images from the past with live instruments and a host of modern music technology is a distinctive and winning formula. But they’re funny, too – using samples to talk to the audience, telling us at one point to « simmer down ».

Some of the older songs have quickly become stalwarts – Night MailThe Now GenerationTheme from PSB and If War Should Come all went down well. And the biggest cheers of the night came for Spitfire and Everest – the climax of an absolute tour-de-force encore.

But Gagarin, Go! and The Other Side from the new album were also magnificent.

Quite simply, we were watching a band at the top of its game. A couple of times during the set, the members flicked smiles at each other. What they’re doing is brilliant. And they know it.

Uncut | March 2015

Public Service Broadcasting
The Race For Space
Test Card Recordings 7/10

Corduroy-clad duo ditch the kitsch and look to the skies

If Public Service Broadcasting’s last album created Avalanches-style musical collages, blending public information film samples with banjos and beats, the London duo’s second LP is a more focused effort, concentrating on man’s adventures in space. This is no retro-kitsch novelty but a gripping tribute to an extraordinary period in history, much of it drawn from the BFI archive and filtered through Jean-Michelle Jarre-style electronica (“Sputnik”), ’70s soul-funk (“Gagarin”) and, on “Valentine”, a hymn to the first woman in space, post-rock. Rich and evocative, The Race For Space is the sound of two young men gazing heavenwards and dreaming.

Fiona Sturges

Electronic Sound | January 2015

Interstellar Overdrive

PUBLIC SERVICE BROADCASTING are one of the most exciting and unusual bands in the electronic music universe. On the eve of the release of their stellar second album, ‘The Race For Space’, PSB main man J Willgoose Esq explains his fascination for inspirational samples, cascading melodies,thumping beats and sending rockets to the moon.

Mark Rolland

Public Service Broadcasting are a peculiar phenomenon and a peculiarly English one at that. Are they a band? Are they an art project? PSB certainly have Arts Council funding – and that in itself is an indication of the changing face of the music industry. It’s heartening to know that the Arts Council will consider putting lottery dollars into a couple of guys who have set about creating an electronic music project initially based on sampling the nation’s film archive of the Second World War.

“The Guardian said we’re more a concept than a band,” says J Willgoose Esq, Public Service Broadcasting’s corduroy-and-bow-tie-wearing main man, over a pot of tea for two at what is possibly the only pub in south London owned by the National  Trust. “I see where they’re coming from, and I don’t think they meant it in a derogatory way,  but people have since thrown it at us as an accusation. I kind of disagree. People don’t go to gigs to see concepts, they go to see bands. And if we weren’t a band back then, we are now.”

Whatever PSB might be, J Willgoose Esq and his partner Wrigglesworth are popular. The pair have built up a considerable following over the last couple of years with a mix of electronics and live instrumentation in the shape of guitars, drums and even a banjo, packaged up and fronted by a kind of languid Oxbridge BBC presenter, circa 1950. And all of this without a record company flexing a marketing muscle.

“That’s not something a lot of people have picked up on,” notes Willgoose. “I can’t think of any other group playing at the Roundhouse who’ve got there without a label behind them. Maybe things are changing. We were lucky to get a bit of funding from the Arts Council, though, which definitely paid for some of the more expensive things on our new album.”

‘The Race For Space’, Public Service Broadcasting’s second album, is replete with expensive things. Thirty five singers and musicians, including dream pop duo Smoke Fairies, cello and viola players, and a sizeable choir, have helped to create what is a musical tribute to the 15 years between the launch of Sputnik in 1958 and the end of the Apollo programme in 1972, 15 years of the USA and Russia duking it out for supremacy in space.

It seems like an obvious step for a band whose music so far  has taken its inspiration from the exploits of the Second World War and the conquest of Everest. Their breakthrough record was the stirring ‘Spitfire’ single. Ironically pressing into service  a decidedly krautrock sensibility in order to celebrate that most British of wartime iconography, it’s the song that sends the crowds crazy when PSB play live, with its nagging guitar hook and cascading melodies. J Willgoose Esq and Wrigglesworth perform it with archive footage of the fighter planes twirling through the sky behind them, giving an impression of flat-out admiration for the heroes of the 20th century.

“It’s not something I’d have said was that big a deal for me    before Public Service Broadcasting,” says Willgoose. “It’s really weird what making music teaches you about yourself. You get asked in interviews why you did things a certain way and you   have to think of proper academic reasons. What’s pleased me  most about what we do is that there is a positivity to it, even       in the darker times, and anybody who knows me well would definitely not say I was a positive person. I’m one of the most pessimistic, self-doubting, self-deprecating people you could possibly meet, so I find it really weird that our music comes out with this feeling of belief in the world to come, a feeling that everything’s going to be alright.”

Maybe pessimists are just thwarted optimists?

“Maybe I’ve found a way for my optimism to come out. Then again, my view of the album is shrouded in doubt and negativity.”

With ‘The Race For Space’, PSB certainly haven’t plumped for the easy option. They haven’t re-written ‘Spitfire’ 10 different ways and released a collection of crowd-pleasing big tunes.

While there is at least one such track on the album, the purposeful ‘Go’, which is about the Apollo 11 moon landing, ‘The Race For Space’ as a whole demands a little more of its listeners. It’s perhaps worth noting the response to the first single from the album, the horn-driven ‘Gagarin’, named after Yuri Garagrin, the first man in space. It seems that not everyone wants their favourite tweedy electronic geeks going all funk on them.

But ‘The Race For Space’ is a more nuanced and carefully constructed work than ‘Gagarin’ and its brassy swagger suggests. It takes several of the significant moments and achievements of the space race era as leaping off points for creating new pieces of music that combine an earnest sense of admiration for their subject matter with what is now a recognisable PSB musical landscape, albeit matured.

The album is almost teasingly slow off the mark. The opening title track samples JFK’s 1961 speech, in which he sets out his plans for America’s space programme, with a backing track of a heavenly choir. ‘Sputnik’ is a seven-minute orbit of mostly subtle metronomic pulses and bleeps and blurts before building into a crescendo that is actually never quite resolved. And then ‘Gagarin’ kicks in. It’s quite a jolt to the system. A superfly funk blast.

“It came out that way,” says Willgoose. “Going back to the first album, we did fairly well with the critics, but there were some who couldn’t get their heads around us using samples and writing new music around them. They said things like [adopts enraged critic voice], ‘The samples have nothing to do with the music! It makes no sense! Agh!’. It seemed to really annoy them. With this record, I wanted to continue the non-literal relationship between the music and the samples, rather than go down a sci-fi, 60s-sounding, original Radiophonic Workshop route, which I think is what some people might have expected.

“Looking at the footage from the time and listening to some of the quotes, Yuri Gagarin seemed a larger-than-life figure, even though he was only about five-foot-two. He was the most famous man in the world. He was on the front of every newspaper everywhere. He blazed a trail to the stars and he was the ultimate hero, the symbol of mankind’s triumph over nature. It struck me that the song should try to capture some of his exuberance and energy and somehow translate that into music. I like the way it’s not quite what you’d expect. It’s not for nothing that the horn blast is so in-your-face. It’s supposed to be a bit of a statement, it’s saying that we’re not going to just do the same old same old. There’s more to us than that.”

A few weeks before this interview took place, Virgin Galactic’s SpaceShipTwo crashed in the Mojave Desert, with the loss of one pilot. The Apollo programme had its own tragedy in 1967, with a fire on a test launch for Apollo 1 which killed the three astronauts on board. Journeying into space is a dangerous pursuit and Mr Willgoose felt he had to acknowledge that. The result is a track called ‘Fire In The Cockpit’.

“I had massive doubts about us trying to deal with that,” he admits. “But every astronaut account I’ve read and some of the other books I’ve read all seem to suggest that, terrible as those deaths were, they saved more lives than they cost. They probably saved the lives of nine to 12 astronauts. So  it was a big event in terms of the implications it had for the whole Apollo project, including Apollo 8 going to the moon earlier than it was supposed to have done and the gamble they took on doing that, and it seemed it would have been more disrespectful to leave it out.”

The elegiac cello lines of ‘Fire In The Cockpit’ emerge from a white noise of radio signals and dark electronic tones, providing a suitably sombre backdrop for the sampled voice announcing the Apollo 1 accident.

“There’s no way you could take a different approach,” says Willgoose. “But I didn’t want it to be too maudlin, too melodramatic. I remember when we were recording the cellos, one of viola players who’d just played on ‘Gagarin’ leaned over    to me and said, ‘Don’t you want to add to some vibrato?’, but I didn’t want it to be pushed too far. I wanted it to be a straight and terrifying treatment of what was an awful event.”

Overall, ‘The Race For Space’ is an understated album. It bypasses the obvious neon sci-fi approach for a more reflective take on the subject. Even the mastering of the record itself is restrained.

“It’s not ludicrously loud, not a square wave assaulting you for 45 minutes,” explains Willgoose. “That just tires your ears and I didn’t want it to be like that. You want there to be a reason    to come back to the album. I was thinking about Radiohead’s ‘Kid A’, in the texture of it as much as anything else, and I was trying to get somewhere towards that.”

He remains nervous about the album’s reception, though.

“I’d be quite upset if the people we’ve brought with us to this point suddenly went, ‘This is terrible, you’re idiots’, and walked away. Deep down, I don’t believe they will. I think the album is quite good, even if it is possibly not what people expect. But that’s deliberate. It’s designed to surprise and challenge in a couple of areas, it’s not designed to be safe.”

Willgoose and Wrigglesworth haven’t yet revealed what they’re planning for their live show when they tour ‘The Race For Space’ (“We’re keeping it under our hats, although it will be space specific”), but the astronaut suits they wear for the ‘Gagarin’ video cost £2,000, so if they’re not employed in some way then they’re not getting their money’s worth. And the campy theatricality at the heart of the Public Service Broadcasting aesthetic – the pseudonyms, the bow tie and specs, the general air of the Enigma code breaker – certainly lends itself to dressing up.

Thinking about it, it’s all rather prog rock, isn’t it? In a knowing, de-contextualised (so without the long hair, Roger Dean artwork and horrible solos) and 21st century way, that is.

“I’m not a fan of 70s prog,” declares Willgoose. “Not even early Genesis, which might be widely accepted, I suppose. Definitely nothing with flutes on. Concept albums always used to terrify     me a bit, and we’ve ended up making at least one, probably     two. It’s a very strange situation to find yourself in.

“In terms of the live show, it’s based on bands that I’ve seen who have put something different into their sets, rather than the ones where the gig sounds exactly the same as the album and the presentation’s boring and it feels like you’re supposed to be grateful for even being in the same room as them. It’s not a reason to go and spend £30. A lot of it comes from a formative experience watching The Flaming Lips. That’s more the performance side of things and it’s a way of compensating for the fact that we’re not very charismatic people on stage, we’re not jumping around like Biffy Clyro. It’s about wanting to put on a good show, wanting to entertain people, and turning your weaknesses into strengths.”

‘The Race For Space’ is released on Test Card Recordings


PUBLIC SERVICE BROADCASTING
The Race For Space
Test Card Recordings

The south London multi- instrumentalists look to the stars for terrestrial inspiration.

Public Service Broadcasting’s ‘Inform, Educate, Entertain’ was buoyed by a surplus of inventiveness and ambition. It was a remarkable debut, with a coherence and a confidence that sounded like the work of artists who had been making music for years. For anyone concerned that the follow-up might be hindered by an exhaustion of ideas, no such anxiety is necessary. While this second album revisits the musical template of the first in terms of its multiple textures, layers and use of samples, ‘The Race For Space’ features a collision of impressively eclectic and seemingly disparate genres, all underpinned by PSB’s reliably innovative use of electronics.

‘The Race For Space’ is very much a concept album, but it’s thankfully more informed by the post-modern aesthetics of Factory Records than the prog rock indulgences of bands such as King Crimson and ELP. The album’s key themes are revealed by its eponymous opener, a delicate collage of ambient noodlings accompanied by snippets of John F Kennedy’s landmark speech explaining his vision of space exploration and its importance in the history of mankind, illustrating the passion that PSB’s J Willgoose Esq and Wrigglesworth have for these sorts of scientific and interstellar concerns.

Although the recording may occasionally lack the immediacy of ‘Inform, Educate, Entertain’, there are plenty of twists and turns in unexpected directions, plenty of challenging explorations of new dimensions of sound. The demented jazz-funk of ‘EVA’ and the blissed-out harmonics of the Balearic-tinged ‘Valencia’, which features a real human female vocal, are two good examples. ‘Gagarin’ similarly provides a surprise excursion to a futuristic dancefloor, complete with nifty fret work and mighty horn stabs. ‘Go’ is the most infectiously catchy track here and illustrates just how dextrous the duo are at merging an innate pop sensibility with experimental soundscapes and seamlessly rhythmic sampling.

Central to the success of the album is  the manner in which the music evokes the grandeur and wonder of the currently stalled space race, serving as a pleasingly nostalgic document for a bygone era. While the majority of the tracks are decisively upbeat and celebratory, one of the most affecting moments is ‘Fire In The Cockpit’, an eerie mood piece combining samples describing the tragedy of the Apollo 1 fire and droning waves of static and white noise. ‘The Other Side’ meanwhile revisits the first manned mission outside Earth’s orbit, the samples detailing the tense communications blackout that the Apollo 8 astronauts experienced when they journeyed to the far side of the moon and the relief of re- emerging within transmission range and the guidance of mission control.

Human endeavour and achievement, be it earth or space bound has remained a recurrent theme of Public Service Broadcasting’s work – and they should be applauded for celebrating it in a way that is endearing and inspirational. ‘The Race For Space’ is a fascinating and highly accomplished album that references the past, while bravely gazing into the future.

Miles Picard

The Sunday Times | 9 juillet 2017

Public Service Broadcasting
Every Valley
Pias

Le déclin de l’industrie du charbon gallois ne semble pas être un sujet pop, mais dans les mains d’un groupe dont les albums ont exploré la course à l’espace et des inventions telles que la télévision couleur, il fournit de l’inspiration. Les Londoniens centrés sur les samples dévalisent les archives à la recherche d’images (dont la voix retentissante de Richard Burton) pour raconter un récit de communauté émouvant via la disco, le post-rock taciturne, l’électro fébrile et le folk charmant. James Dean Bradfield et Tracyanne Campbell de Camera Obscura apparaissent aux côtés d’une chorale d’hommes, de cuivre de mines et de cordes somptueuses.

LV

Traduction : 29 octobre 2019