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Album Review: Bill Callahan – Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest

Album Review: Bill Callahan – Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest

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Usually, hearing a fifty-three year old white man prattle on about his worldview for an hour would be be rivalled only by fingernail removal as a method of extreme torture. Yet Bill Callahan’s new double album, Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest, is performed with such sobering intimacy that it’s almost as if the Maryland wordsmith is playing its careworn psalms in your own front room, perched on the edge of the sofa, strumming a battered acoustic while the sky turns from hot blue to inky black and back again. 

Of course, much has changed in Callahan’s life during the six long years since he released 2013’s Dream River. The lo-fi rock pioneer married Hanley Banks, a documentary filmmaker, and in 2015, Hanley gave birth to their son, Bass. Then, in 2018, Callahan’s mother died, after a short two year battle with cancer. Shepherd, his sixteenth LP, is a sort of reckoning, a stark meditation on the wages of life and death that somehow manages to feel as warmly offhand as a homespun folktale.

[Shepherd] is a sort of reckoning, a stark meditation on the wages of life and death that somehow manages to feel as Warmly offhand as a homespun folktale

The music is skeletal and mysterious. Opener ‘Shepherd’s Welcome’ is a crumpled polaroid, all mixed down vocals muttering over scuzzy tape crackle. Not for the last time, Callahan is looking back, specifically to his work with Smog, a band whose distorted guitar tunes always sounded as if the instruments were wrapped in loft insulation. Then, he plucks a thick major chord and the song snaps into clean focus. It’s a confident trick that speaks to Callahan’s composing chops while also setting the record’s reflective mood. 

Some songs are laconic vignettes that close in on tiny details of domestic gardens and dining rooms; others, such as ‘The Beast’, seem to sum up the entire scope of existence in four taut minutes. As always, Callahan swaps big choruses for rambling passages of observation, anecdote and metaphor. Forerunners like Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s I See a Darkness spring to mind, although the cinematic shifts in imagery also recall the devotional montages of Terrence Malick’s 1998 war film, The Thin Red Line. On the glimmering hymn, ‘747’, Callahan peers down on the earth from an aeroplane window and catches a cathartic glimpse of life itself. He sings “we are flies on a mule / and we are good at what we do / we turn darkness into morning”, and it’s one of those precious feats of direct songwriting that succeeds at saying something profound about humdrum human experience without coming across like a fraudulent slogan ripped from a cologne bottle.

The music is skeletal and mysterious

‘Released’ best evokes the deceptive subtext of the album’s ominous title. As a quiet arrangement blooms into an atonal burst of detuned guitars and jangling chimes, Callahan intones “It’s plain to see / everything is corrupt / from the shoes on our feet / to the way we get f****d”. Biblical invocations of the Four Horsemen and an unnamed Beast pop up on several tracks, seeming to represent both a misleading government and an inner spiritual rot that demands our urgent attention. But curmudgeonly grumpiness isn’t really Callahan’s style; these songs are not the collected gripes of an ageing troubadour. Listen to wistful ballad, ‘Angela’, which ends on Callahan gently asking “you got a garden, don’t you mind a little rain?”, and the soft twangs of his guitar strings almost seem to twinkle with generous wisdom.

Callahan’s most expressive instrument by far is his dipped-in-chocolate baritone, a voice so commanding that you imagine him reciting a flatpack furniture manual with the grizzled magnetism of a high plains drifter

The production favours rough and ready mixes of soft fingerpicking and double bass, which are sometimes dressed up with rootsy touches of organ and harmonica. However, Callahan’s most expressive instrument by far is his dipped-in-chocolate baritone, a voice so commanding that you imagine him reciting a flatpack furniture manual with the grizzled magnetism of a high plains drifter. In fact, that’s almost exactly what he does. In an already much cited line from ‘Son of the Sea’, Callahan muses “the panic room has become a nursery”, and it’s one of the most poignant descriptions of parenthood ever engraved onto wax.

This is a grateful album, and the vocal performances are aglow with love for the unexpected gifts of married life. But domestic comfort hasn’t blunted Callahan’s famously sharp lyrics. Backtrack a few minutes from ‘Son of the Sea’ and there is ‘What Comes After Certainty’, an eloquent slice of American eschatology where Callahan looks in surprise at his “little old house, recent model car” and ponders a future as a father who has found the contented life his earlier, noisier songs kicked up against. Certainly, these are the very particular questions of a middle aged man, but the songwriting has the plainspoken ring of a wanderer learned enough to know that his experiences may not necessarily be yours or mine. 

the songwriting has the plainspoken ring of a wanderer learned enough to know that his experiences may not necessarily be yours or mine

Encounters with birth and death are rendered with watchful awe. ‘Circles’, perhaps the album’s most wrenching song, takes place inside Callahan’s mother’s hospital room in the immediate moments after her passing. Unsurprisingly, the resulting elegy is not an anthem to lost parents, nor is it a weeping dirge of multi-tracked violins. Instead, the singer croons “death is beautiful”, stepping to a trembling upper register that snatched my breath away like a gust of salted ocean air.

Malick sought the answers to eternity in the long grass that sprouted from bloodstained soil of a South-Pacific battlefield. Callahan doesn’t travel quite as far from the homestead. He locates cosmic truths in building next door to the hospital, where a well wisher has slipped “out the door/ to flirt with the boys on the library floor”. There is no fear of the end on this record. Why should he be? A beloved relative might pass away but another person will always arrive to introduce us to new ways of creating love. This is a masterful achievement.

Album Review: Tyler, the Creator

Album Review: Tyler, the Creator – IGOR

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Print Editor Aaron Loose reviews Tyler, The Creator’s latest album.

If Tyler Okonma added painting to his hobbies, I can imagine him liking watercolours best. The way diluted dyes blur into each other to create beautifully unexpected tonalities mirrors the Odd Future graduate’s own hybrid songwriting. What is ‘Yonkers’ other than a Frankensteinian hybrid of New York hardcore and nerdy teenage confessional?

Still, trying his hand at yet another medium might be a hustle too many. Since 2017’s depressive revelation Flower Boy, Tyler seems to be interested in almost anything other than rapping. There were other projects, like promoting his blossoming streetwear label, Golf Wang, or watching alt-rap titans Kid Cudi and Kanye headline the music festival he started in a car park back in 2012.

The sudden arrival of IGOR, his sixth and perhaps best album, is more than welcome. It’s a portrait of obsessive romance, daubed in pastel tones and perfumed with delicate yearning. If Flower Boy was a sculpted homage to Pharrell’s perfectionist pop, IGOR channels Blood Orange’s Freetown Sound or Solange’s When I Get Home, painterly sonic art installations where aromatic soul and R&B melodies are unhooked from a verse-chorus scaffolding and invited to float in unexpected directions.

Image: Incase

It’s a portrait of obsessive romance, daubed in pastel tones and perfumed with delicate yearning

The result is an album that doesn’t sound like any other contemporary hip-hop record. For starters, there is little rapping. Instead, Tyler rasps like a karaoke Barry White, and his strained vocals are mixed beneath licking synths and chugging Afropop rhythms. Goblin nostalgiacs will miss a straightforward hip-hop cut like ‘Radicals’, although the hardcore swirl of Freudian rage and Erykah Badu references on ‘NEW MAGIC WAND’ might satisfy. In truth, IGOR sounds like the artist Tyler was always trying to become; sensitive, assured, and wise enough to know that a relationship doesn’t need to last to be worthwhile.

In a 2017 interview with comedian Jerrod Carmichael, Tyler admitted to pitch-shifting his vocals until he struggled to identify his own rapping parts. Hearing himself speak felt too vulnerable. But this time is different. Instead of swaddling himself in a safety blanket of distortion, Tyler modulates his pitch to extend the awkward wobbles of an untrained singing voice. Listen to ‘EARFQUAKE’, the lovesick torch song rejected by Justin Bieber. Tyler’s bleating performance is perfect. When he begs ‘Don’t leave, it’s my fault/ When it all comes crashing down, I’ll need you’, his baritone flattens into a shrill whine, as if buckling beneath the weight of his grief.

IGOR sounds like the artist Tyler was always trying to become; sensitive, assured, and wise enough to know that a relationship doesn’t Have to last to be worthwhile

Part of the pleasure of listening to IGOR is hearing Tyler’s prodigious skills as a producer climb to a new league of musical dexterity. ‘I THINK’ twists a sample of Nigerian funk singer Nkono Teles’s ‘Get Down’ into a candied electropop banger about not having the words to tell someone they have captured your heart. Thumping drums march beneath guest star Solange’s heavenly melisma before dropping out entirely as the song collapses into a lovely coda of jazzy piano chords.

IGOR doesn’t exactly recreate Solange’s earthy philosophy of communal creation. Whereas impresarios like Charli XCX and A$AP Rocky welcome their features like star turns, Tyler is an auteur who cuts records like a filmmaker, sculpting his lovelorn beats until every hi-hat and vocal sample fit together like the interlocking innards of a polished pocket watch. It’s not accidental that the tracklisting leaves his various collaborators unnamed. Outside voices are sprinkled into the mixes like seasoning, adding spice and texture to an intensely doleful vision.

Grungy floor filler ‘WHAT’S GOOD’ divines sinister ambience from what sounds like a whispering slowthai, although you could easily mistake the Northampton MC for a session player, which is the point. Not even a bona fide superstar like Playboi Carti holds the spotlight for long. The mumble rapper’s pleghmy verse lasts just long enough to secure ‘EARFQUAKE’ rotation on hip-hop radio, and besides, tinkering Tyler would rather obsess over the spine-tingling clang of an ascending chord progression than chase streaming figures.

The beats certainly sound burnished. ‘GONE GONE / THANK YOU’ is less breakup song than a breakaway dance track, a late-album high point carried by an effervescent instrumental of chittering guitars that feel as foamy and sweet as a lavender bubble bath.

IGOR ends on unresolved notes, paddling in the shallow water between one romance and the next. It’s where Tyler does his finest work

But don’t be fooled by the sugary multi-tracked Cee-Lo chorus; bitterness flavours these aromatic ballads like squirts of lemon juice. During the same song, Tyler mutters to his ex-lover “Could play a couple of songs that you could dance to/ I hope you know she can’t compete with me”, the sort of petty insult that hurt people throw to make themselves feel less unwanted.

To assume IGOR is an autobiographical sound diary is a mistake. The details are hazy, for one, and I think Tyler’s has shed Goblin‘s cartoonish shock journaling for more impressionistic songcraft. He certainly sounds vulnerable. Soulful belter ‘ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?’ sounds manufactured to finish a festival set, but it’s not a closer, nor a final songwriterly brushstroke that resolves all that came before. IGOR ends on unresolved notes, paddling in the shallow water between one romance and the next. It’s where Tyler does his finest work.

Album Review: Jade Bird – Jade Bird

Guitar music has undoubtedly become stale in the last few decades. For every ground-breaker like The 1975, there are a million and one indie outfits trying to be the next big thing, harping on about the same old themes with the same old jangly chords and limp energy. The artists worth talking about are the people doubling down on the vulnerability and emotion that makes music the spine-chilling experience it should be; people like Jade Bird. At only 21, she’s crafted a raw and eclectic debut album which channels her Americana and folk influences into an exciting new package. Jade Bird is an appropriately self-titled record, as the singer-songwriter unleashes her stunning voice to powerful effect. It’s unpretentious, it’s raucous, and it’s what the British guitar music scene desperately needed.

The album opens with ‘Ruins’, a gentle introduction to Bird’s unmistakable voice, at once softly vulnerable and sharply emotive. Her twang is instantly reminiscent of Americana titans like Bob Dylan. The song slowly evolves to a musical climax which sets the tone for the album – one of ebbs and flows, both sonically and emotionally. Lead single ‘Lottery’ follows, and it’s easy to see why this has been Bird’s biggest hit in America; the anthemic chorus and bittersweet lyrics are captivating.

Her twang is instantly reminiscent of Americana titans like Bob Dylan

‘I Get No Joy’ begins with an authoritative drum beat that leads into another killer hook that showcases Bird’s stunning vocal dexterity. She belts out stunning notes on the line ‘I get no joy’, and the rapped vocals that follow instantly remind you that despite her influences from across the pond, Bird is unavoidably British. ‘Side Effects’ gives the full band their first real chance to shine. There’s a groovy bassline in the chorus, simple but joyous drum work, and an excellent bridge which melds guitar riffs and Bird’s rising melodies.

Piano takes centre stage for ‘My Motto’, an uplifting ballad about determination that was recorded in one take and is all the better for it. The honestly of Bird’s messages shines through, with the song building to an empowering crescendo backed by strings. The album then dovetails into ‘Does Anybody Know’, a guitar-led tearjerker that is full of melancholy atmosphere. When synth lines creep into the bridge, it’s a chillingly beautiful experience, that’s unfortunately deflated by the addition of drums in the final chorus.

New guitar lines appear in each new section of the song, creating an interesting and endlessly replayable anthem

The record shifts jarringly from Bird’s most vulnerable moment to ‘Uh Huh’, a riotous song laced with attitude and venom. The singer’s tongue-in-cheek anger is tangible as she mocks an ex-boyfriend, backed by powerful instrumentation. Disappointingly, the energy drops into ‘Good At It’, a perfectly enjoyable but forgettable ditty about the sexual prowess of a love rival. ‘17’ is another impressive showcase of Bird’s vulnerability, with piano and strings combining to create a moving and intimate song.

Once again the album catapults you from a low to a high, with the jaunty verses and biting choruses of ‘Love Has All Been Done Before’. New guitar lines appear in each new section of the song, creating an interesting and endlessly replayable anthem. ‘Going Gone’ is a sassy takedown of a childish boyfriend, and the counting in the chorus meaning its almost an Americana version of Dua Lipa’s ‘New Rules’. It’s the closer for Bird’s live set, and it seems odd that the album too doesn’t end on this spirited note. Instead, it closes with ‘If I Die’, the most lyrically interesting and moving song present. Bird contemplates how she wants to be remembered after death, and while it’s touching, it’s a very melancholy note for such a young artist to end her first album on.

The best moments come from the snarling highs and heart-breaking lows which show off the singer’s emotional lyrics and voice

The range on display in this debut record is incredible, particularly when considering Bird wrote and co-produced every song. The best moments come from the snarling highs and heart-breaking lows which show off the singer’s emotional lyrics and voice – the mid-tempo songs feel a little safe and full of unreached potential. The textures in each song are impressive, with new instruments being organically built into each soundscape to build the energy. While there’s definitely some whiplash for the listener as the album bounces from low to high and back again, it’s a testament to the range of feeling which Bird’s music can evoke. Jade Bird is an honest album full of energy, built around a stunningly powerful voice which should cut through all the white noise in guitar music to make Jade Bird a star.

Marvin Gaye’s lost album

In 1971, a review in Rolling Stone claimed that “Gaye has designed his album as one many-faceted statement on conditions in the world today” and, almost 50 years later, his album What’s Going On is more poignant than ever. Amidst London’s Extinction Rebellion and the current political climate, songs like ‘Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)’ and ‘Save the Children’ have never resonated more. Therefore, despite the confusion over the sudden release of his ‘lost’ follow up album You’re the Man, recorded in 1972, I believe another Marvin Gaye record could not have come at a more perfect time.

it’s a harrowing reminder of how little has changed in 50 years and its release in 2019 could not have been more poignant

35 years after his tragic death, and in the year the legendary Motown singer would have turned 80, this album is a powerful reminder of the events that were taking place in the ‘70s and the issues that are still unresolved today. Deemed too radical for release by Motown’s Berry Gordon, You’re the Man preaches further concerns about the state of the world: “I believe that America’s at stake” and “the world’s situation / should be rated X”. Whilst the album plays homage to its predecessor in content, it does in its guitar riffs and backing vocals too. It includes melodies that mirror those found in ‘Inner City Blues’ and instrumental experimentation that echoes the solo flute in ‘Right On’.

However, it is easy to see why You’re the Man was the album excluded by Motown. More free-flowing in its form, it is a passionate and rebellious work with Gaye trying to say even more. Whilst What’s Going On was highly controversial too, it feels more conservative than Gaye’s latest release.

More free-flowing in its form, it is a passionate and rebellious work with Gaye trying to say even more

You’re the Man features aggressive funk lines, dramatic percussion and even uses spoken word in ‘Checking Out (Double Clutch)’; the album strays from the squeaky-clean Motown voices of Smokey Robinson and The Miracles. Almost as though Gaye was striving for a sound similar to that of Curtis Mayfield or Sly and the Family Stone.

You’re the Man is a harrowing reminder of how little has changed in 50 years and its release in 2019 could not have been more poignant. It, along with What’s Going On, has the power to inspire a new generation of artists troubled by politics, the environment and the search for love in the modern era. As Marvin Gaye once mused: “with the world exploding around me, how am I supposed to keep singing love songs?” and this will likely be the mantra for the next cohort of young artists. Music has the power to question the world we live in and change it for the better.

Album Review: Kevin Morby – Oh My God

When one listens to Kevin Morby’s fifth solo album, the double LP Oh My God, three times in a row during a six-hour car journey, one’s mind, unsurprisingly, becomes a tad warped. Perhaps this was Kevin’s intent. Certainly, like when you read Hemingway and spend a week spluttering short sentences about the importance of truth, or if you watch Baby Driver and risk all your passengers’ lives on a groovy trip to McDonald’s, you begin to think like Morby after being exposed to his idiosyncratic language for so long. If the album you’re exposed to is Oh My God, then those Morbian thoughts will manifest themselves as meditations on the prevalence of religion in the 21st-century. This is a topic which the album approaches with the calming objectivity of a therapist: all empathy, no judgement.

 Morby passionately runs with his chosen theme, exhausting its connotations and assessing its effect with the considered approach of an academic

Fans of ‘the Morb’ – as no one is calling him – will notice that his signature blues/folk guitar is largely missing from the album. In fact, Oh My God works in perfect unison with his percussion-heavy 2016 single ‘Beautiful Strangers’. Morby goes as far as even reworking that song into The Velvet Underground-inspired, ‘OMG Rock n Roll’. To conjure that manic sound the track is mainly comprised of electric organs and a muffled guitar; it sounds like its being played on the other side of a door in the rain. This serves as one of the albums bursts of energy, which act as sporadic cattle prods to prevent the album as a whole becoming too lethargic and weary. In this way, Morby seems as aware of his audience’s needs as he is of the surprising ubiquity that religion retains in our largely secular societies. Another example of this is ‘Congratulations’, which has the contemporary doo-wop feel of Bowie’s ‘Modern Love’, or more fittingly, Leonard Cohen’s ‘Memories’. Replacing Morby’s guitar this time are trumpets and piano, which the album’s title track exhibits to a luscious extent. In an interview with NPR, Morby cited the Ethiopian nun/jazz-pianist Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guébrou as a direct inspiration – with ‘The Homeless Wanderer’ being especially influential (and highly recommended).

It is a perfectly curated, cohesive project, to which you can groove and furrow your brow to an equal extent

As a concept album, it is sublime. Morby passionately runs with his chosen theme, exhausting its connotations and assessing its effect with the considered approach of an academic. This leads him to have the chorus line of “Oh my God / Mama, I’m angry” in his song ‘Piss River’, since “I came for your love but I stayed for your anger”. This superficial acknowledgement of how OMG, which has been seen as blasphemous, is now impotent in its context, runs parallel to songs such as ‘Nothing Sacred / All Things Wild’, which meditates on the desecration of our environment. If Morby’s previous record, City Music is a paean to a modern New York City, then his track ‘Ballad of Faye’, with its low-hovering brass rasp, staccato guitar and percussive piano, acts as a tribute to a New York of the past – or perhaps one that has never existed. It imbues itself with contemporary and retrospective jazz sounds that create an atemporal space. One could imagine that this sonic landscape would perfectly accompany the devastated, bucolic world of ‘Nothing Sacred / All Things Wild’.

We are fortunate to have someone like Kevin Morby working today. Given that his discography is so diverse, the only thing one can expect from a song of his is that it will be considered and whole. As he has proven from this album alone, he fails to be succinctly categorised. What’s more, he is not an artist who claims to have answers. He seems entirely comfortable simply to allow us all to mull over heady topics in communion. Whereas many would become perhaps overindulgent in their concept albums, Morby shows restraint. It is a perfectly curated, cohesive project, to which you can groove and furrow your brow to an equal extent.

Album Review: MARINA – LOVE + FEAR

Whoever is familiar with the music of Marina Diamandis will probably know by now that she is incredibly good at reinventing herself through her music. The half Welsh, half Greek artist has been exploring very different concepts ever since she put out her first record; we’re used to a new “era”, to a drastic change of sound, aesthetics and themes, every time a new album is on the horizon. But much has changed since The Family Jewels: her 2010 debut. Much has changed since her last album Froot too.

The artist now goes by MARINA rather than Marina & The Diamonds, and she is not afraid of being herself anymore. LOVE + FEAR, her newest LP, feels like she has found a very honest and sincere approach to making mainstream pop in 2019. The album is less of a concept album than most of her trajectory; 2012’s Electra Heart explored female identities and archetypes through the made-up character that gave the project a title, and the Neon Nature Tour, the show that took her third album Froot around the world, had costume changes and scenography to match the self-indulgent, empowered aesthetic of the record.

it’s a double album that successfully acknowledges the duality of our minds and hearts as human beings, while also being a personal account of the place she is in at the moment

But LOVE + FEAR is based on a very simple idea that Diamandis came across while studying psychology at the University of London during her hiatus. She explained Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s theory to Refinery29, saying “[Kübler-Ross] states that everything that we do stems from love or fear. So, love and fear are the two primary human emotions that all of our other emotions come out of.” Diamandis then found it easy to start classifying her writing -according to whether it came from a place of love or a place of fear. This turned her new record into a double album that successfully acknowledges the duality of our minds and hearts as human beings, while also being a personal account of the place she is in at the moment.

The first half, LOVE, is the most sonically varied, and yet the most cohesive of the two. The opener, Handmade Heaven, acts as a perfect prologue for what’s to come. The sound of this first single is reminiscent of some of her softer songs from previous albums, such as ‘Immortal’ from Froot or ‘Valley of the Dolls’ from Electra Heart, but the lyrical content is completely different. In ‘Handmade Heaven’ and the rest of LOVE, Marina explores her relationship with the world she lives in, from natural landscapes to her connections with others and herself, and we can see she is pretty happy with where she is at. LOVE also contains one of the first love songs we’ve had the chance to hear from her: ‘Superstar’, a genuine tribute that sounds so very different from everything she has put out before, yet grows on you the more you listen to it, and it comes across as mature and poetic.

The other main highlight from this half of the album is her third single, ‘To Be Human’, which is “probably the most important song in the record”, according to Marina herself. The themes in this song encapsulate the unity across humankind discussed, and the universal feelings we can see in the rest of LOVE + FEAR. ‘Enjoy Your Life’ is also an excellent stand-out track – the line “sit back and enjoy your problems, you don’t always have to solve them” made me feel so called out, yet I only wanted to congratulate Diamandis.

The string arrangements, build-ups, and beat drops feel fresh and different from the Latin guitar sound of some of the tracks from LOVE

When it comes to FEAR, things get a bit more complicated, both in terms of themes and sound. We can see the same type of sound as we had in LOVE, but this time it’s a bit more similar to what Diamandis has done in the past. The string arrangements, build-ups, and beat drops feel fresh and different from the Latin guitar sound of some of the tracks from LOVE, and it’s really easy to see the influence of Clean Bandit on MARINA’s new sound. Jack Patterson, Marina’s partner, and his band had already collaborated with her back in 2017, and their newest track featuring Marina is in the LOVE half of the album. The spacious electronic sound feels both like a tribute and a result of Diamandis spending time with the band during her hiatus years. Nevertheless, the choruses in FEAR are simple, and the melodies sound more familiar, and I dare say slightly less original. This is something that I, personally, enjoyed at first, but LOVE + FEAR is an album that grows on you, one of the reasons I am grateful that Diamandis released the first half earlier than planned. It is music to be digested slowly, to go back to and to explore in our own time. And LOVE makes it all worth it, but FEAR might be less consistent in this sense. The FEAR half is way more straight-forward and sarcastic in lyrical terms, though. ‘Karma’ and ‘No More Suckers’ are feisty, fun, and empowering but in a very different way from the first half of the album.

Overall, the length of the songs makes the album sound slightly rushed: the song that gives her third album a name, Froot, is almost six minutes long, whereas, in this one, there is only one song that reaches four minutes. The structure of the songs feels basic, especially knowing what Marina Diamandis is capable of, but the whole album is still a very good pop record. Some of the lyrics are beautifully poetic (“all of the days that we spend apart, my love is a planet revolving your heart” from ‘Superstar’ comes to mind), and the evolution in her sound is definitely something to be praised. More importantly, it sounds like she has reached a place of maturity, of internal peace and acceptance, and a state of reflection and self-awareness that is always very interesting to see in an artist. I think MARINA has got her fanbase used to such high-quality pop music, different from most charting popstars, that the standards used to analyse her music are way more complex – therefore making it easy for her to produce a record that comparatively, might not be as good as her previous work, but that is still able to stand on its own as an amazingly well-crafted collection of music.

 

Album Review: Newton Faulkner – The Best of Newton Faulkner… So Far

Newton Battenburg Faulkner has long been a ray of genuine guitar-toting sunshine in the UK music scene. His percussive guitar style, impressive vocal range, and lovable on-stage personality has garnered Faulkner a loyal and committed following, and so it is with great anticipation that one settles down to enjoy the 31-track odyssey that is The Best of Newton Faulkner… So Far.

I say odyssey, because odyssey it is; the album’s two discs wander through a variety of tracks, from a mixture of assured fan favourites and new tracks on the first side to a broad range of covers on the second. If the intent was to provide a collection that broadly encapsulates Newton as an artist, then I would say Best Of is successful; highlights spanning his entire discography are contained within, alongside new content set to satisfy keen fans. Incorporating crowd-pleasers from all six albums was always going to be a balancing act, not least because – with the arguable exception of ‘Dream Catch Me’ – there is no definitive, go-to list of Newton favourites. Best Of does, rather topically, its best. The majority of the first disc are live show staples, from ‘Brick By Brick’ and ‘Clouds’ to the much-loved cover of Massive Attack’s ‘Teardrop’. Whilst I would dispute the exclusion of other favourites such as ‘To The Light’ (well worth a listen for the uninitiated, as it perfectly captures the energy and technicality of Newton’s style), overall this is a near-definitive list of excellent tracks from throughout Faulkner’s career thus far.

Newton’s impressive range is clearly on display as the disc skips anachronistically between albums, although this results unavoidably in a listening experience that prioritises song choice over album cohesion. Such is the curse of the ‘best of’ album, perhaps; in the struggle to show off key tracks, some of the spark is lost. Faulkner’s development as an artist has been subtle but consistent, with each album presenting a reinvented style – be it increased depth of mix or innovations in instrumental technique. This is an additional enjoyment that would be lost on a Best Of listener not already familiar with his discography; skipping straight from ‘Clouds’ to my personal Hit The Ground Running favourite ‘Finger Tips’ – a five year time-jump, and a large stylistic one – lacks some of the context which adds a further dimension to the listening experience. These are all excellent songs in their own right; one can only hope that those for whom Best Of might be an introductory Newton experience are subsequently tempted to take the worthwhile dive into the previous albums.

this is a near-definitive list of excellent tracks from throughout Faulkner’s career thus far

However, those of us returning Newton fans are approaching Best Of with two things on our minds – new tracks, and studio-recorded covers. If it’s new Newton you’re looking for, then the three new songs herein – ‘Don’t Leave Me Waiting’, ‘Wish I Could Wake Up’, and ‘Take What You Want’ – provide an interesting view of things yet to come. Again, we see small reinventions in Newton’s sound – a little more muted feel here, more harmonic, with a more even distribution of instruments in the mix. It feels like a natural progression from much of his work on Hit The Ground Running, although this shift may not yet be fully realised; from the beginning of Newton’s career it has been his indomitable ability to incorporate exciting and varied guitar work into his tracks that has defined his sound, and these three tracks have a tendency to bury that within other instrumentals. It will be interesting to see the end result of this development in Faulkner’s next studio album; his musical willingness to adapt has always paid off well in the past. These are the best of Newton ‘so far’, after all.

Best Of’s second disc is entirely composed of covers, and it is here that the real fun begins. Faulkner has long been known for his covers, taking particular delight in performing such material at live shows; up until now, they have – with the exception of ‘Teardrop’ and ‘Get Free’ – been relegated to a scarce few live recordings, if available to stream or buy at all. Fear not, fellow Newton fans (Newtonians?), for that drought of covers is over – and it is over in style. Best Of’s second side has a little something for everyone. Covers range in genre and inspiration, from an enchanting acoustic solo rendition of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ (another frequent live-show request) all the way down to a cover of Jess Glynne’s ‘I’ll Be There’, which features a layered vocal mix with multiple harmonising Newtons, truly showing off his vocal range. ‘Pure Imagination’ is more haunting and melancholy than the Gene Wilder original, whilst Rusted Root’s ‘Send Me On My Way’ seems to be a song Newton was born to cover. Elsewhere we hear a strangely summery ‘Foundations’, a ‘City of Stars’ far more tender than its Ryan Gosling original, and – true to Newton’s sense of humour – the ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ theme. Because, why not?

The resulting album is something of a compromise

For those already familiar with Faulkner, it is in this second disc that Best Of really comes into its own. It almost feels as if we are dealing with two separate collections here: a true ‘best of’ album in disc one, and a long-awaited B-sides album in disc two. If Best Of has one flaw, it is that it appears to suffer an identity crisis. Is it aimed at those less familiar with the artist and seeking an abridged, accessible snapshot of his admirable career so far, or is it aimed at the committed fans who really, really, really – for reasons which Faulkner himself claims to never understand, but which I promise you are entirely justifiable – want a studio-recorded version of ‘Professional Dog Food Taster’?

Literally and figuratively, these are the two sides of The Best Of Newton Faulkner… So Far. On the one hand, we have the successful musical career of an artist who has undeniable skill and talent; a condensed celebration of 12 years of excellence. On the other hand we have the fantastic live performer, who unfailingly wins over audiences through his good humour and excellent musicality, here reiterating an ability to take songs from across genres and styles and make them his own. The resulting album is something of a compromise; while this prevents it from wholly fulfilling either objective, there is something here for everyone.

So, what are we to do with these two divergent halves of an album? Cherish them both, of course – and eagerly anticipate the undoubtedly stellar live tour that is soon to follow their release.

Live Review: Ex:Re @ Union Chapel, Islington

When I discovered the gig was at Union Chapel, I realised its the perfect setting for Ex:Re; a working church by day and music venue by night, providing a serene atmosphere and perfect acoustics for the solo venture of Daughter’s lead singer, Elena Tonra.

I have seen Daughter twice before, supporting Benjamin Francis Leftwich in October 2011 and then supporting Ben Howard in February 2012. The band were making good progress breaking into the indie music scene; they toured successfully with many artists and their 2011 single ‘Youth’, from their second EP The Wild Youth, was a massive hit and has since been played over 172 million times on Spotify.

After the release of their most recent album in 2017, Elena began writing songs about a break up, deciding to explore this process solo as opposed to with the rest of her band, Igor and Remi. This seems a sensible decision, since Elena previously dated Igor before her most recent relationship and I’m sure it would have been fairly awkward to explore her sentiments together. Running parallel to Daughter, Elena’s solo album titled Ex:Re was released in November 2018 and is the most personal and haunting album yet. The name Ex:Re is pronounced X-ray and is, therefore, a clever play on both the revealing process of an X-ray, but it also literally means “regarding the ex.” This name summarises how this album is truly about getting over her ex, whilst also exposing the core of Elena’s deepest and darkest emotions during this heart-breaking time.

Elena walked onto stage into darkness, silence, and smoke, and began singing the final track on her album

I arrived at the venue just as the support act, Herbal Tea, had started singing. I heard faint echoes of her voice as we arrived at the entrance, but nothing could prepare me for the feeling of entering the doors of the church itself. It was pitch black, there was a single spotlight, and it was so incredibly quiet between the singer’s vocals that you could hear a pin drop. I stopped breathing for a few seconds, letting my eyes adjust enough to see people sat on pews facing the stage. When the lights came on after Herbal Tea’s performance, it was then possible to truly take in the beauty of the venue: the stone arches, the high ceiling, the altar on the stage which the photographer frequented. It was spectacular, and I took my seat a few pews back ready for Elena’s rich voice to fill the church.

No introduction necessary, Elena walked onto stage into darkness, silence, and smoke, and began singing the final track on her album, which happens to be the only one which involves just her chilling vocals and guitar. Starting with ‘My Heart’ really set the scene for the rest of the concert, as she sings to her ex, “in your hands, my heart.” This opener really proved how Elena alone can hold our hearts in her hands. Elena was then joined on stage by three instrumentalists who alternated between playing keyboard, guitar, drums, and cello. Elena herself swapped between her electric guitar and the bass guitar that she played so frequently in Daughter.

Together, they played three more songs from the start of the album. The fourth song they performed, ‘New York’, contains my favourite repeated lyric: “he is very conscious of the world, he recycles his words”. This highlights Elena’s witty brilliance when it comes to lyricism and how she can convey her ex’s insincerity through an ironic analogy. At this stage in the gig, Elena paused to laugh awkwardly about how happy she was to be in the beautiful venue, whilst also complaining about her sparkly jumpsuit that was making her overheat. Her self-deprecation is admirable, as it proves how humble and down-to-earth she is. The audience laughed along with her, cheering her on when she stumbled over her words – she is so much more confident singing than speaking. I sadly realised at this stage that we were nearly half way through the concert, as there are only 10 tracks on this album, and Elena’s desire to let her music speak for her makes the gig run more quickly and smoothly.

Elena’s desire to let her music speak for her makes the gig run more quickly and smoothly.

The concert continued, with my favourite song from the album second to last: the melodic piano track ‘5AM’. The simple four note chord progression builds throughout the song with the addition of the light drums and guitar; so simple but so effective, as the listener can just imagine Elena writing this at 5AM. Elena pronounced after the song had finished that she was experiencing a slight electric shock from the microphone. She stated this with a nervous laugh, joking that it would be fine if she was electrocuted because she is in a church! This statement was received by a cheer of laughter from the unexpectedly loud audience. Elena managed to perform her final track, ‘Romance’, without any electric shocks. This track was realised as a single and was therefore the perfect end to her main set, with its catchy upbeat chorus and similarity to many of Daughter’s most popular songs.

Luckily the depressing lyrics, “romance is dead and gone,” in the final song was not the end of the concert – Ex:Re returned on stage for an encore which had to be a cover as they had “no more songs!”. They covered ‘Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime’ by The Korgis. This slowed down version of the song made it almost unrecognisable, as Elena added her classic musical touch of repetitive drums and looping vocals. This finale can only be described as symbolic; after an album and concert and discussing a painful break up and heartache. She ends on a more positive note, signalling to the audience that this was just a learning curve. Maybe the cathartic experience of Elena’s first solo album has left her realising that she, too, has got to move on and learn sometime from this experience – and that time is now.

An Interview with Newton Faulkner

It’s been almost 12 years since the release of Newton Faulkner’s double-platinum debut album Hand Built By Robots, and in that time he’s had one heck of a journey. Supporting John Mayer, starring as Johnny in the American Idiot stage show, another UK Number 1 album, and appearing on stage with a 30 foot, 3 tonne Martian fire-breathing fighting machine in the musical adaption of War of the Worlds are just some of the amazing events on that journey.

Before the release of The Very Best of Newton Faulkner… So Far – an album of greatest-hits, three new tracks, and all the covers he plays live (including his extraordinary cover of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ he performed at T in the Park) – I caught up with Newton to talk about the journey since his debut all the way back in 2007.

Your new ‘Best Of… So Far’ record contains some brilliant covers. Have you got any big covers in the works?

“Nothing at the moment actually, I kind of exhausted everything I could even think of doing for a little while. Some of them go all the way back to the beginning, embarrassingly.”

A few years ago, I went to go watch you play at the Colston Hall in Bristol, where you had I See Rivers supporting you who were fantastic. How do you normally go about choosing the artists that support you on tour?

“They were amazing. It’s usually who’s the nicest to have around, to be honest. Obviously, you have to consider how good they are musically, as an act, which is really important. I tend to have them on the tour bus with me, so if they’re not nice to have around I’m generally not going to consider it. The other thing that’s really fun is when you can have them on first and they can join you later and do more stuff and sometimes it takes a while to work out the right thing to do; when you saw me at Colston Hall they came back, which is always fun because you get the chance to build a band, which is great.”

another UK Number 1 album, and appearing on stage with a 30 foot, 3 tonne Martian fire-breathing fighting machine are just some of the amazing events on that journey.

So would you tend to choose artists that are quite similar to you musically? Or do you tend to go away from that, so they can come back and do something very different?

“I tend to look at it as a whole evening, so if it’s going to be a guy with a guitar it needs to be someone that does something very different to what I do and has a different writing style. I’ve had loads of girls on tour with me which means you’re not just listening to the male voice for four hours, which is quite a lot to ask of anyone! So I’m always on the lookout for girls – with pianos is the best bet, because then it sounds completely different.”

One of my fondest memories is when you did a private pop up gig at my school Hardenhuish in Wiltshire. Where do you think is the most unique and different place you’ve played a gig is?

“I’ve done toilets, hot air balloons – I’ve covered a lot of ground, it’s quite hard to pick a strangest place. I’ve done caves, I’ve done the top of mountains. I haven’t played in any deserts, I was going to talk to my management about that.”

Was there a certain event, or kick, that made you realise that you could take your music professionally?

“I guess it was that first wave of proper big gigs that really did it, everything else is really intangible. Being on radio is just odd, and then seeing yourself on TV is a bit strange and surreal – I can’t really make sense of it. But when you’re playing a gig and loads of people are singing along it’s something else – my first Glastonbury is probably the big one to say things are going quite well.”

When were you the most nervous before you played a gig?

“I’ve been completely terrified on countless occasions, but I kind of quite enjoy it – if I didn’t enjoy it, it would be a terrible job to have. Loads of gigs are important for one reason or another, there could be radio executives there or you know there’s important people coming. The gig that got me signed was a gig at Coco supporting Rooster, I think, and I kind of knew what was at stake, what was going on, and I knew they were there, and I knew why they were there and what could happen if they didn’t like it. So obviously stuff like that is totally terrifying. And then there’s venues that strike fear into your heart, like the Royal Albert Hall is just so vast – you’re like “Oh god this is terrifying!”.”

Do you feel like you’ve got any better when it comes to big gigs?

“Nah I’m still the same, it still means as much as it’s ever meant to me. And that’s the same with all gigs, you never know who’s going to be there, even if it’s five people at a small bar in Chicago, you never know what that could lead to.”

you never know who’s going to be there, even if it’s five people at a small bar in Chicago, you never know what that could lead to

What do you do to relax after a gig?

“Relax?! You don’t relax!! What the hell are you talking about?! Haha! Although I generally, have a couple of drinks and get on with stuff – just going back to sorting out other things.

Actually, I did forget this was happening I’m not going to try and cover that up today! I’m currently getting a nail fixed and I just need to go get some cash out, I’ve got a broken nail – I have acrylic nails and I had to go get it fixed! I thought I should probably get that sorted before I go and pick up my son later. But I just forgot to check the diary to see what was going on!”

This is a new dimension of interviewing! I’m following a Day in the Life of Newton Faulkner! Are you fine to carry on?

“Yes of course! Always happy to talk.”

What’s your favourite song to play at the moment?

“I’m really looking forward to doing ‘Up Up and Away’. And there’s another song that hasn’t come out yet, which when it does  I think is going to go down really well.”

Is it one of the ones in your new album?

“Yes, it’s a track called ‘Take What You Want’ – some journalists have heard it but no one else has. It’s on the listing, but I don’t think anyone’s heard it yet.”

Yes! I heard it yesterday, it’s brilliant!

“I’ve got as really good feeling about that one. I feel like everything else is, sort of, open doors and put me back in a good space. One of the ones, ‘Wish I Could Wake Up’, is actually doing really well in Germany and has opened loads of doors – which I didn’t really know what to expect, and that’s great! But for a number of radio stations, I think ‘Take What You Want’ may just tap into something, because I’m not usually that traditional – I’m usually trying to do something weird. So it’s quite interesting to just not try it, to write a really normal song, which is a strange exercise in itself!”

I’ve been to a few of your gigs and heckles, and the way you respond to them, are always a brilliant part of it. What’s been your favourite heckle recently?

“You know what, I kind of just roll with the punches so much at gigs that I don’t really notice them anymore. I’ve had some totally insane ones. The weirdest one, which was quite a long time ago but I think it still is, was in Leeds, I think. This incredibly drunk Northern Irish girl, judging by the accent. I think I played a ukulele on a track, and after a really quiet moment in that strange bit of silence after a song before people clap, which is normally quite a weird moment – it’s quite a special thing that happens at that point. That is, unless, someone shouts out “Can you put a ukulele up my…” at the top of their voice. So that one, was obviously pretty extreme. Although she topped it later: the same girl, she didn’t get kicked out for that – I think some people said “shush” so that was was good, but then the set picks up again, getting into loads of upbeat stuff – I don’t hear a peep out of her then. Then, it get’s to another quiet bit at the end of a song again – and she’s even drunker by this point – and she shouts out: “I’ve found a ukulele! Can you find my a**e?”. Which was brilliant, it was a two part heckle, which is quite hard to beat. But yeah, very interesting…

But yeah, I’ve had very casual conversations with up to 60,000 people. I remember, because I was kind of experimenting with it when I was first doing support tours, and they were quite big gigs. I thought: right, what I’ve been doing at little gigs has really worked in terms of bringing people in, making it personal, getting people onside and singing along in ways that they probably wouldn’t do at most gigs – I give them genuine challenges to complete.

So there was that side of things. But then I tried to take on this persona of someone that does big gigs when I first started doing them. It was like: “HELLO! ARE YOU GUYS READY TO DO THE THING?! LET’S DO THE THING!” And it was very loud, and it was a bit Brian Blessed, which is what people do at gigs. And it felt a bit weird, it felt like an act, and nothing I’d done before that really felt like an act. And after a few of them, I was like “right, not enjoying that, feels weird. Let’s try the polar opposite.” And I stepped out in front of a s**t ton of people, and I was like “you alright guys, how are you doing? Imma gonna do a song now.” It was just really chilled, and I really like the way people instantly relaxed, you could feel it in the room – quite a tangible feeling shift.

And I’ve been kind of playing with it for years, I did some support slots for John Mayer in the Royal Albert Hall – they were some of my favourite gigs I’ve ever done. Did two nights, got two full standing ovations both nights, went as well as you could possibly hope. But one of the bits I loved the most was when I got people to do something complicated, a three part thing, and I said: “If you do that, and you do it really loud and unembarrassedly, I will do something totally ridiculous just for your amusement.” And then I played the Spongebob Squarepants theme in the Royal Albert Hall. And then it was like the whole room changed shape, because everyone relaxed – and [the Royal Albert Hall] is quite serious, it’s quite stuffy, and if you allow it to it can become a very over-serious gig. But if you do something totally ridiculous – and it is totally ridiculous, and I’m not advising people to do it – but it did something, it chilled everyone out, and everyone was like “oh if he’s this relaxed, I can relax” and everyone has a better time.

I’m inclusive, I’m definitely an inclusive guy. I’m like the opposite of Ray LaMontagne.”

little gigs is about making it personal, getting people onside and singing along in ways that they probably wouldn’t do at most gigs – I give them genuine challenges to complete

Are there any current artists (they don’t have to be new) that you’re really enjoying listening to at the moment?

“My go to album is still Anderson Paak’s Malibu, I just think it’s amazing, it’s so musically satisfying. It’s a great one to jam along to as well, I have amps and guitars dotted all about the house so there’s loads of opportunity to do stuff and mess around with it.

I’ve been going over a lot of old 70s funk like The Meters and Average White Band, which I’ve been absolutely loving again. I guess because I’m playing drums with my feet as part of the live set, I’ve been analysing things that have the best groove to try and work out exactly what creates that. Because I’ve got to the point where I can play the drums slightly late and keep the guitar in time – and I can mess with the feel quite subtly with all the independent cogs still in place. I’ve really upped my multitasking game quite considerably. This is next level.

What I was trying to do before was trying to make it quite subtle and adding in little bits which people didn’t even notice I was doing – the odd chord and the bass notes – and what I’ve been trying to do is make that more obvious. And the best way of doing that I’ve found, at the moment, is to spread everything out – playing guitar with one hand and doing something else with the other hand, and then sitting down so you can see what both my feet are doing. And then I think it becomes obvious what’s going on, because I think a lot of people listen to me live and not realise what’s happening, which is why I think a lot of people think I’m a looper, because they don’t understand what it is that I am doing.

I don’t know, some people just don’t care how it’s done, and I’m not expecting everyone to completely understand. It’s like a lot of the guitar stuff, unless you really understand what it is that I’m doing, you’re just going to think “oh he’s playing guitar, that’s nice”. Some people are just there for songs, which is totally cool, but there is a layer of nerdy, hyper-technical stuff going on, which if people are into it does add a layer. But, it’s finding ways of doing it which add to that bit without taking away from the people that just want to hear songs, that just want to hear you really sing – really commit to vocals.”

That must be a very tricky thing to do!

“Oh, yeah it is, but that’s why I like it. I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t a challenge. I was working with a bass player recently, writing some top-secret, secret project, and I was talking him through the live set up. He’s played for a lot of people over the years, endless artists, he’s been on the road for as long if not longer than I have. And he was like: “I play with a lot of people, and most people try and make it as easy as they possibly can so they don’t really have to think about it. You tend to make things as complicated as humanly possible”. And he thought it was really cool, he was really into it as a concept.

If I push myself to the limit, I have a really good time.”

You’re going to be in Exeter in April, playing in the Great Hall (Tuesday, 23 April). When you think of Exeter, what immediately springs to mind? Is there something about Exeter that sticks out for you?

“I do the same thing every time I play in Exeter, and I don’t know if anyone really clocks it, but at some point, I always play Exodus and replace it with “Exeter” off mic and see if anyone notices, I don’t know if anyone has.

I’ve spent loads of time down there, that whole quadrant of the UK have been spectacularly good to me over the years. It started my career when people first got behind it, and they’ve really stuck with it which is amazing, I’m incredibly grateful.”

If you could have any job different to your current one, which you were very skilled and qualified to do, what would it be?

“I’m not qualified for anything, I have no qualifications of any kind. If I was to do anything, there’s stuff that looks really fun like voice acting – that looks really fun. Also, I am kind of qualified to do it in terms of knowing how my voice works, because obviously singing follows a lot of similar things. And I think a lot of singers do end up doing it at some point or another, but I’d love to do that. That would be a good side line.”

Album Review: Heard It in a Past Life by Maggie Rogers

After witnessing Maggie Rogers’ vibrant performance supporting Mumford and Sons on their Delta Tour back in November, I was excited about how imminent the release of her debut album was. Heard It in a Past Life does not disappoint. The album, which came out on 18th January 2019, features both new tracks and a couple from her 2017 EP Now That The Light Is Fading. The 24-year-old Maryland native combines aspects of folk, electronic, pop and dance music to create an album about “being really present, and vulnerable, and uncensored.”

We begin with ‘Give A Little’: an energetic and strongly rhythmic pop track. It is a departure from the folk-inspired sound that we are used to, but nonetheless, it is a promising start to the album. ‘Overnight’ and ‘The Knife’ both carry on a similarly strong beat and catchy chorus. The polished sound makes these tracks likeable, but it’s good to return to familiar territory for the next song.

The sudden drop in tempo brings us to ‘Alaska’, and the Maggie Rogers that many of us first encountered. In June 2016 a video blew up online of Pharrell Williams’ reaction to an unfinished version of what would become ‘Alaska’. Williams, then an Artist in Residence for New York University, had been invited in to give a masterclass and to hear some of the students’ song writing. On hearing the singer-songwriter’s song, Williams is quite clearly blown away, later remarking: “I’ve never heard anyone like you before.” The song appears on countless Spotify playlists for a reason; the laid back, folk-inspired vibe makes this essential listening.

‘Light On’, a single written for her fans about the past two years of her life, is a stand out track: from the vivacious, anthemic sound that gradually builds, to the intensity of the second “you should be so happy now”, to the strong, resolute “I’m still dancing at the end of the day”. The first song Rogers wrote for the album was ‘Past Life’, a slower paced, pared back piano ballad. It is reminiscent of Lorde’s ‘Liability’ in style, but is much gentler and more controlled. ‘Say It’ and ‘On + Off’ make for easy listening with their synthesised elements and layered vocals.

‘Light On’ is a stand out track with a vivacious anthemic sound

‘Fallingwater’, a song Rogers describes as being about “giving everything and not knowing if it’s enough,” showcases her soaring, ethereal vocals and incredible range. It is both bold and emotional, strong and vulnerable: pure brilliance. ’Retrograde’ is another upbeat track, although it is not one of the more memorable ones. The penultimate track ‘Burning’, which has a similar energy to Florence and the Machine’s ‘Shake It Out’ as it approaches the chorus, comes at you with such exuberance and warmth that you just can’t help but want to get up and dance. ‘Back In My Body’ brings the album to a strong close with on-point lyrics and vocals.

‘Fallingwater’ showcases her soaring, ethereal vocals and incredible range

Overall, I am impressed by Heard It In A Past Life. It exudes confidence, but also sensitivity; listening to it you can’t help but feel that Maggie Rogers knows who she is as an artist. It is clear that this album solidifies Rogers as not just one to watch in 2019, but well into the future. It will be interesting to see what she does next.