Album Review: Capacity by Big Thief

Big Thief’s sophomore album “Capacity” feels like a vessel for lead singer Adrianne Lenker to process her tumultuous life. Hers has been a life that is purpose made for storytelling; spending her earliest years in a cult, almost dying in a freak accident, spending years living out of a van, earning a scholarship for a prestigious music school.

These stories of love and loss, of violence and healing and of friendship and family, all come together to create the intimate Capacity. It feels as though you’re reading someone’s diary, a certain feeling that you shouldn’t know all this about another human being. Dark and personal lyrics are complimented with Lenker’s soft, tender vocals, while her bandmates create swirling melodies that package up raw, painful moments and offer them with a serving of finger-picked guitar lines and steadying drum beats.  

This mix of overtly dark lyrics and soothing music can be somewhat unsettling. This is the case on Watering especially where Lenker details an assault from the perspective of both the victim and the perpetrator. The lyrics are violent and distressing (“He cut off my oxygen / And my eyes were watering / As he tore into my skin / Like a lion”) with multiple refrains of the word “screaming” particularly unnerving. In the break between the point of view switching between victim and perpetrator, Lenker’s “oohs” almost sound more like she is screaming or wailing than singing.

This, the most disturbing moment on the album, transitions to Coma. A delicate track that begins only with guitar chords before gradually, harmonizing voices and restrained drums are introduced. It feels as though Lenker is staring blankly into the distance as she tries to come to terms with how her body has been violated. When she sings “when you wake up / you wake up…” it sounds as though Buck Meek’s finger-picked guitar line is gently awakening her from her “protective coma.” Despite the heavy subject matter, you could find yourself being lulled to sleep by the hushed vocals, so soft they’re almost a murmur.

Lenker also has a penchant for delivering matter-of-fact statements in such a way that they are deeply affecting. On opening track Pretty Things she makes sex seem almost like a religious ritual; “Holding my wrist to the bed / He was thrusting and moaning / And pressing his head / To my temple / His head was a temple.” Later on Mythological Beauty, the track that details the freak accident that almost took young Lenker’s life, she is blunt in her description of sex once again, peeling it back to its most physical elements, “Seventeen, you took his cum / And you gave birth to your first life.” Perhaps it is an attempt to humanise her mother or to make some statement about how all of us are the same, have the same urges, underneath it all. Or perhaps it’s just simply the way Lenker likes to write, prose among poetry. Much of Mythological Beauty is descriptive without embellishment and yet it is one of the most evocative tracks on the album. It conjures up memories of childhood; the sights (rented a house in Nisswa, Minnesota / shrapnel and oil cans, rhubarb in the yard), the smells (standing beneath the oak tree by the front door / you were inside baking bread), the sounds (you held me in the backseat with a dishrag, soaking up blood with your eyes / I was just five and you were twenty-seven / praying, “Don’t let my baby die”).

Mary, named after Lenker’s best friend, unfolds in a similar way, evocative and nostalgic. It’s a stream of consciousness, an outpouring of memories – floods on the plains, clothes pins on the floor, marching up the mountain, cheap drink, the marching band… The decision to use a piano and organ for the recorded version of this track (Lenker uses a guitar live) differentiates it from other tracks on the album. The twenty-five year old singer-songwriter’s voice is haunting against the background of the piano and organ on the sprawling track, confirming it as one of the standout moments of the album.

Capacity finishes with Black Diamonds, a foot-tapping, humming along kind of song. Max Oleartchik’s chilled-out bass line, Buck Meek’s lilting guitar and James Krivchenia’s drums combined with Lenker’s hushed assurance “You could cry inside my arms / you could cry inside my arms like a child / you could cry / you could cry…” create the perfect conclusion to an album that is full of tragic and painful moments that somehow still leaves you feeling warming by the time you’ve reached the end. From violent assault on Watering to near death on Mythological Beauty, Lenker invites us into the world of Capacity in which scars are created and healed, and there’s catharsis to be found in that release.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Music, Opinions

This Week in New Music: Lorde, Denai Moore & The Strypes

Here’s my pick of the albums you need to hear that dropped today

Melodrama – Lorde



Melodrama, the “Royals” singers sophomore album, is a concept album about a house party. From the excitement of that first great song  to the beginnings of a hangover, it’s worth listening to in sequence to get the full experience.  Despite the influence of the likes of Jack Antonoff (Taylor Swift, Sara Bareilles) and Kuk Harrell (Justin Bieber, Rihanna), this pop album is still uniquely Lorde.


We Used To Bloom by Denai Moore



Londoner Denai Moore’s latest album is a a beautiful and affecting glimpse into a young woman learning to love herself and accept her flaws. Moore explores topics like anxiety, greed and the “transformative” power of love here with extraordinary grace and poise. With smooth R&B beats and sincere vocals, “We Used To Bloom” is a pleasure to listen to.


Spitting Image by The Strypes

The Strypes


If you’d like a throwback to retro rock and roll, Spitting Image is your album of the week. It feels a little rock-y, a little blues-y, a little indie, but it’s a mix that works well.  The Cavan natives third record is more polished than their previous offerings but the rawness of a good live performance is still very much tangible.


Album Review: “hopeless fountain kingdom” by Halsey

“hopeless fountain kingdom,” the sophomore album from Halsey, opens with the American songstress reciting the prologue of Romeo and Juliet before she dives into her own modern-day story of star-crossed lovers. This begins with 100 Letters, a track in which she shakes off a past lover, assuring us “I don’t let him touch me anymore.” It’s a decent opener that feels familiar, but follow-up track Eyes Closed deviates from the usual. The melody for this song was crafted by The Weeknd and though he doesn’t sing a word on the track, his presence can be felt throughout. Devil In Me, written by Sia, is another moment on the album where Halsey feels more like an impersonator than her own thing, but these are only two moments on the record and for the most part, the Halsey we fell in love with on Badlands is very much present.

That Halsey was the epitome of the modern day, social media “cool girl.” Most young female artists are trying to speak to and for a specific group, but Halsey may be the most genuine. First gaining a following through the internet, Tumblr specifically, Halsey embodies so much of this new generation of young women who are desperately trying to have their voices heard. The 22-year-old is opinionated online and very vocal about social issues such as destigmatizing mental health and politics (she was an outspoken Bernie Sanders supporter). She isn’t afraid to talk about her mental illness (bipolar) or her sexuality (bisexual) and will call out her own fans on Twitter if she has a problem with what they’re saying. She’s brave and brash and beautiful, and all about female sexual empowerment.

Heaven In Hiding is a great example of this and one of the stand-out tracks of the record (it’s also Halsey’s favourite track). The music scene at the moment is, perhaps, over saturated with overtly sexual songs delivered by females in scantily clad attire, and everyone has their own opinion on whether these female artists are truly empowered or being exploited by those higher up in the industry. When it comes to Halsey and a track like Heaven In Hiding, I don’t think anyone can question that Halsey is empowering herself rather than having her sexuality exploited. This track has the songstress flipping “the script” in a sexual encounter, with Halsey confidently taking the lead (“And you thought that you were the boss tonight / but I can put up one good fight”) as she teases the subject. Later, on the current single Strangers, Halsey collaborates with Lauren Jauregui of Fifth Harmony to sing about the relationship between two women. We’re well used to hearing women sing about getting with other women, but it’s usually experimental and purely sexual (female pop singers out there I am looking at you, you know who you are!). It’s refreshing to hear two openly bisexual women sing about a female/female relationship with real depth, and on a track that is destined to be a hit.

The other collaborations on the album include one with Quavo (Lie) and another with Cashmere Cat (Hopeless). Listening to Lie for the first few times, I thought it was trying too hard to be an anthem and missing the mark. After watching Halsey perform it live however, I think this track does have the potential to be grand and atmospheric. For me, the addition of Quavo on the studio track is a hindrance rather than a help and the song has a far bigger impact with Halsey alone. Indeed, most of the strongest tracks on the album are those that allow Halsey to be Halsey, and are free from heavy outside interference. Whether it was pressure from the label to include some big names or the singers own self-doubt, the singer is at her best when the track has that classic, signature Halsey sound.

One of the most common themes on the record is, interestingly, the singers self-doubt, especially when it comes to relationships. This is most poignant on Sorry, the only ballad on the album and one of the records strongest offerings. The mellow moment has Halsey apologising to her “unknown lover.” It’s the most vulnerable moment on the album with emotional lyrics like, “Sorry that I can’t believe, that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me.” The song really shows off her stunning vocals with the only accompaniment being sparse piano chords.

On Bad Love she self-asses herself to be, well, ‘bad at love.’ But as outsiders, the string of lovers she mentions seem like they could well be the problem rather than Halsey herself. It’s also another moment on the record where we see Halsey’s staunch feminism causing issues for her in relationships. One male ex-lover is “calling [her] a bitch again” due to her honesty / outspokenness while another is bothered by her quest to pursue music, instead wanting her “in the kitchen with a dinner plate.” She delivers the lines in such a way that you get the feeling she’s rolling her eyes rather than genuinely bothered by what these guys thought of her, and you just know that her fans are rolling their eyes right along with her.

Alone explores the 22-year-old’s sense of isolation amidst this new found fame. She feels “alone in [her] mind” despite the millions of people coming to see her. In the chorus she seems to address her fans singing, “I know you’re dying to meet me, but I can just tell you this / Baby, as soon as you meet me, you’ll wish that you never did.” However, this is contrasted on Don’t Play where she radiates confidence and empowerment. “Can’t fuck with my vibes, double cuppin’ in my ride, motherfucker don’t play with me” she sings over an infectious beat as she sings about making her own money, “drinks on me.” And this is really what makes a Halsey album so great – the contrast, the colours, the complicated nature of it all. Yes, Halsey is a badass feminist icon, but she also has moments of doubt, depression and despair, and that’s what makes her truly empowering. Because the real “cool girl” has vulnerabilities and insecurities too, and by Halsey revealing hers to us it allows us to embrace our own and realize that we can feel confident and empowered in spite of them. Overall, “hopeless fountain kingdom” is a good, well-rounded album and should succeed in pleasing old fans as well as drawing in some new ones.


Album Review; For A Moment, I Was Lost by Amber Run

After a turbulent 2016, Nottingham natives Amber Run returned Friday with their silver lining – their sophomore album, “For A Moment, I Was Lost.” After being dropped by their record label RCA and losing their drummer Felix Archer, the record was composed during a time when it was unclear whether there would still be an Amber Run in 2017. “We were lost,” front man Joe Keogh confessed, the album title clearly reflecting the state in which the band found themselves. It’s unsurprising therefore that dark themes permeate the record; depression, failure and self-loathing to name but a few. The album is masterfully crafted, combining all the best elements of their debut record 5am and building on them to create something gloriously atmospheric, without slacking lyrically. At times they’re mellow and muted (Haze, Machine), at others they’re energetic and powerful (No Answers, Perfect), but there’s not a moment where they aren’t good.

Insomniac opens the record, hurried and fast-paced with smashing keys and crashing drums. It’s a decent opener that hints at what’s to come –  a more mature and dynamic album than it’s predecessor. Musically, the sound is more alt-rock than alt-indie like we heard on 5am, something that feels right for the band at the present moment. Another change on this record might be the strength in the lyrics. One of the criticisms the now quartet got for their debut was that the lyrics were lacking, on this LP they’re clever, honest and hard-hitting. The second track on the album, No Answers, is a good example of this. “And I can forgive you / But I can’t forget you / Because the things you said are etched inside my brain” and “I’ll be the shadow that you see at night / That shred of doubt in the back of your mind” are two of the most potent lines on the track and Keogh’s powerful vocals on the number deliver them perfectly.

One thing that has always made Amber Run stand-out from their contemporaries is their ability to incorporate beautiful harmonies into their indie/alt-rock tracks. Fickle Game showcases this while the blunt, honest lyrics (“I wanna be older, I wanna be stronger / I don’t wanna fall at the start”) reveal their growth. It beings with some simple piano chords before harmonies, percussion, guitar and bass turn it into something greater. However, it’s Haze that brings us the closest to the stunning harmonies of I Found from their debut 5am (if you haven’t heard the latter, this performance  with the London Contemporary Voices choir is worth checking out).  At just under 2 minutes, Haze is a beautiful break that lies in the middle of the record. It’s a glorious haze (sorry, not sorry) of harmony that is a perfect accompaniment to the despairing lyrics. Described by the band themselves as “a plea for someone or something to come along and get you back on your feet,” this acapella track is sure to be simply stunning live.

Things stay muted on the following track, White Lie, a song that seems to describe the struggle of dealing with depression. There’s something cathartic in the chorus as Keogh sings out “I am a failure, I am a disaster, and I don’t want to be anything else / I am a loner, I am a loser, I don’t want to be anything else..” It’s one of the simpler tracks on the album, reminiscent of the title track of 5am, but it’s not at a loss for it. The pace picks up again on Perfect, an anthem for the angry and frustrated. “Karma, karma, please bear what I am owed,” Keogh yells out over crashing guitars, frantic guitar riffs and deep bass lines. If the line is inspired by the band not reaching the heights they were promised, I really hope karma pulls it out of the bag and they get the recognition they deserve this time around.

Dark Bloom is, as indicated by it’s title, one of the darkest moments on the LP. Keogh’s patient and steady vocals are contrasted with fast-paced drumming, the repetition of “Oh I worshiped you” finally getting a cathartic release on the last chorus as our lead singer hollers out “now I am tortured by you” accompanied by frantic drumming and squelching guitars. Meanwhile, Machine is the most delicate, touching moment on the album. It’s slow and soft – self-doubt writing a love letter. Keogh’s vulnerable vocals are perfection here, especially on “But do you love me? Do you love me?”  It’s one of my favourite tracks on the record.

Despite the subject matter of the closing track Wastelands (a break-up), it’s a hopeful end to the LP. It’s not without sadness, (“We started as a fever / we turned into an ache that never goes” and “It happened piece by piece / It happened just a little at a time / And then the bruises started showing” are particularly cutting) but the anger and accusations are gone. Instead, the band unite here in gorgeous harmony to sing “And I know you’ll fall in love again / When you do, I hope you’ll find somebody / Who you can love like I love you.” It’s a stunning closing number that combines all of Amber Run’s best qualities – haunting harmonies, vulnerable vocal moments and develops into a powerful, all-encompassing musical experience with crashing drums, smashing keys, glorious guitar riffs and the perfect climax. If I’ve a criticism for the record, it’s missing the vibrant, frantically happy tunes we got on 5am (Spark, Heaven) but overall, “For A Moment, I Was Lost” is a much more mature and cohesive piece than its predecessor and delivers a record that is sure to delight both critics and fans alike.


Album Review: Not to Disappear by Daughter

{Not To Disappear is number one on my favourite albums of 2016}

Started at the bottom now we’re here… my favourite album of the year; Not to Disappear by Daughter. Elena Tonra & co’s follow up to their stunning debut If You Leave was my most-anticipated album for 2016 and they didn’t disappoint.

This album is dipping your toes in to someone’s darkest, bleakest moments. Infamous for her gloomy, at times nihilistic lyrics, the album explores self- loathing, loneliness, love and loss. It’s mellow and melancholy, and at times so grim it’s hard not to be consumed by it, but there’s also something so inviting, so compelling about Tonra’s gentle vocals, as though she is enticing you into a darker world. The accompaniment of Igor Haefeli on guitar and Remi Aguilella on drums combines to create something truly special and gloriously atmospheric.

The opener, New Ways, is a perfect example of this. It starts off wonderfully calm, with delicate, dreamy vocals from Tonra with a beautiful build up as she sings, “I’ve been trying to stay out / But there’s something in you / I can’t be without / I just need it here” before there’s a wonderful cathartic kind of sonical release. The theme of numbness, or even depersonalisation, that pervaded If You Leave is also evident on the new album. On the chorus of Numbers Tonra sings out “I feel numb in this kingdom..” The frantic, incessant drums match the rising anxiety apparent in the lyrics as she begs for someone to “make [her] better.”

It’s the third track, Doing The Right Thing, that’s one of the most heartbreaking on the album, an album which Tonra herself has described as “a little ball of sad.” The leading single was released prior to the album (accompanied by a heartbreaking video I’ve embedded above for your viewing pleasure…) and inspired by her grandmothers Alzheimers. It describes her eroding mind and the terror she must feel at moments when she is aware, “I’m just fearing one day soon / I’ll lose my mind.” Mothers is equally disconcerting as Tonra attempts to describe motherhood. “You will drain all you need to drain out of me” she sings softly through the synth, as though ‘drain’ is the most common way to describe the relationship between mother and child.

As usual, the English trio also explore love on the record. And as usual, it’s not “happy shit” (Tonra’s words, not mine). How marks the end of a relationship, the line “How come he’s the one / to let me down?” painfully drawn out. On Alone/With You she struggles with both loathing and craving companionship, “I hate sleeping alone” is countered with “I hate sleeping with you.” Meanwhile on To Belong, Tonra seems to ascertain her independence (“I don’t want to belong / to you / to anyone”)  and questions love’s futility, “Don’t you think we’ll be better off / without temptation to regress, to fake tenderness / waiting to see someone we won’t know for long  / in cities we’ll only leave.

So, Not to Disappear may be similar to its predecessor in terms of theme, but sonically it’s more adventurous. No Care is the clear outlier of the LP. It’s a frenzy of percussion, guitar riffs and a steady, banging beat that feels a bit like a headache that just won’t let you go. It’s brash and blunt, “There has only been one time where we fucked / And I felt like a bad memory / Like my spine was a reminder of her / And you said that you felt sick” she sings before repeating over and over “No care, no care / I don’t care, I don’t care anymore / I don’t care / I don’t care,” something she’s clearly trying to convince herself of (and failing).

But they go back to their roots on concluding track Made of Stone, the song perhaps most reminiscent of their earlier releases. It’s simple and beautiful. Tonra’s insecurities are laid out bare here, “What if I am made of stone?” she wonders, noting that “feeling is not a system.” It’s the bleakness that turns many off Daughter, the brutally honest lyrics that recount the most painful moments between family, lovers and often one’s self, but when they do it so well, it’s hard not to fall into their trap. Made of Stone seems destined to be a tragically depressing end to the record, (“Love / it’s just face-painting / Love / it’s just easing the waiting / before dying without company”) but, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, if you will, as it ends on a touching moment as Tonra whispers, “You’ll find love kid, it exists.” Although, it is Elena Tonra, so perhaps that’s a warning rather than a reassurance.

Rating: 5/5


Album Review: Writing of Blues & Yellows by Billie Marten

{Writings of Blues & Yellows is number two on my favourite albums of 2016}

Anyone who follows me on social media will no doubt have heard me harping on about this girl before. Seventeen-year-old Isabelle Tweddle (who goes by the stage name Billie Marten) unveiled her first studio album to the world back in September. It’s a quiet and beautiful affair with ethereal vocals, relaxing acoustics, and remarkably introspective lyrics for someone so young.  It is no doubt one of my favourite albums of the year, but I’ve been procrastinating this review for a few days now simply because I wanted to make sure I did the album justice. Honestly,  I am still not sure I can verbalize how dear I hold this album to me.

Unsurprisingly, one of the reasons is due to how much I can relate to the lyrics. The songs were written when Marten was between the ages of 14 and 17, so it feels a little like listening to someone much wiser and more talented than me make an album out of my diary! At only fifteen years old the young Brit released her first single, Bird, which follows the dreamy opening number La Lune on the LP. It’s a song about “how words can truly affect people,” and instantly transported me back to feelings of loneliness and isolation in the past when I felt distant from friends or entirely alone. Her delicate, breathy vocals matched with a simple piano melody perfectly complimented the innocent and melancholy mood of the lyrics.

On the third track, Lionhearted, she notes that she’s “never been too bold, keeping in the quiet and shade” and wonders what life would be like if she was a little braver, “What would life be like with a lionheart inside? / Instead of mine, give me another…”  It is one of the little reminders of her youth on the record, seeming to reveal a little of that sometimes overbearing insecurity teenage girls are prone to experiencing, and the naive assumption that they are alone in it (“Oh this is lonely territory..”)  Another lovely reminder of Marten’s youth is the story behind Emily. The creaking of a piano stool and intricate guitar picking open up this stunning track , a song inspired by Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. Apparently Marten was studying the novel in school and said the song came as a result of “procrastinating.” If only my procrastinating resulted in something quite so beautiful…

Milk and Honey is one of the rare occasions where Billie looks outwards and offers some social commentary.  Greed is the topic of this track in which Marten has a self-confessed rant at the  “ridiculous obsession some people seem to have these days with constantly wanting everything all the time.” The song seems to tell the story of two people who now “dream apart.” The songwriter is “content with time well-spent” while all the subject of the song wants is “milk, more than [they] can drink.” Sonically, it feels slightly more upbeat than many of the other tracks on the album (with the exception of the lovely Unaware), and lyrically it’s probably got a lesson in there for some of us.

One of the most notable tracks on the album has to be the haunting and atmospheric Heavy Weather. The song seems to get heavier and heavier, just like the weather. There’s a beautiful build-up on the bridge as Marten sings “heavy weather, heavy weather, heavy weather…” like a dark cloud filling with rain before it all tumbles down. Hello Sunshine is another one with some particularly nice production. There’s strings, keys, percussion and a rich vocal on this dark track that ultimately ends on a note of hope, “In the end we’ll find our boats and sail them / to this land of isles remote / and bathe in the light, the lemon light / hello sunshine, it’s nice to meet you.”

Not just one of my favourite songs on the album, Live is now one of my favourite songs ever. It’s so very simple and oh so lovely. “I want to go places that I’ve never been..” Billie sings sweetly, “I want to see things that I’ve never seen / Quietly happy, and live by the sea.” However, she seems to be held back by people who warn her “Don’t go out / don’t get lost in the dark / don’t go in too deep / don’t swim out too far” but she yearns to “live a little at last.” It seems to be a song that everyone can relate to, fantasizing about travelling the world and living life to the fullest, to “stay out all night say hello to the dawn” and to “spend time with the ones [you’ve] always adored,” ignoring the shackles we feel life has put on us. The bridge has the young songstress vowing to “make [her] own mistakes” and “let down [her] guard.” The simple guitar picking and gliding glissando in the opening few bars give it a raw, homegrown kind of sound from the get go. It’s the kind of song you can imagine Billie playing casually in her back garden dreaming of travel and adventure.

Teeth is mellow and muted, diving into a period of bad mental health, “I’m writing this in a bad way / no one can hear what my head says.” Over simple, delicate piano chords she whispers “I can’t bear it, I find it hard to breathe” while moments later she notes “if you ask if I’m fine then I’d say yes but I am lying through my teeth.” It’s a painful listen at times, bluntly detailing a period of depression, thrusting you back into that feeling of hopelessness and despair.

It is not one of Marten’s own songs, but an acapella cover of “It’s A Fine Day” by English poet Edward Barton (sung by his girlfriend Jane Lancaster) that wraps up Writings of Blues and Yellows. Personally, I don’t think the cover adds much but Marten has said that it’s a special song to herself and her family, so in that regard, it’s a lovely way to finish off her first full-length musical offering.

For me, the opening line of Unaware (“Soft are your hands on the weight of the world / making your mark with your delicate touch”) perfectly describes Billie Marten’s mark on the musical world. This is an album deserving of your full attention. I’d recommend you sit down with it on a quiet evening when the rain is beating down against the window and you’ve a cup of tea at hand. Alternatively, it’s a soothing sedative for sleepless nights.

Rating: 4.5/5



Album Review: Isn’t it Strange? by Lauren Aquilina

{Isn’t It Strange is number three on my favourite albums of 2016}

Writing about how much I love this album is a little bittersweet as it’s both the first and the last LP from Lauren Aquilina. Only two months after it’s release, the British songstress revealed that she wouldn’t be releasing any more music due to the negative effect the music industry had had on her mental health. As much as I respect and support her decision for being strong enough to put her mental health over a dream she’s been working towards for years, it’s a real shame her musical career has to end here. Isn’t It Strange reminds me of a younger Taylor Swift in it’s lyrics (deeply personal but wholly relatable) and a modern day Swift in terms of musical style (perfect pop with the odd belting ballad).

Midnight Mouths opens the record, a pretty safe pop number that has Aquilina accusing someone of merely wanting her out of loneliness. It’s definitely not my favourite on the album but it has some nice lyrics that are very tweetable (Is that word or did I just make it up?) Example: “It’s just the lonely, just the lonely talking, so don’t you tell me that you’re falling for me now.”  If I’d decided the tracklisting I would have pushed the second track on the album, Wicked Game, up to the number one position. It has a delicious hook that hides the darkness of the lyrics, “I don’t know how to ask for help […] I’ve been thinking about death.. [..] These are dark, dark times.” There’s also a contrast vocally, she bounces back and forth between a low and high register effortlessly,  the highs on the word “wicked” are especially appealing.

Third on the list is the leading single, Kicks, a fun and empowering number (particularly those HEY’s). The opening line “We’ve got mixed emotions and that’s when things get complicated” is probably a good hint that the album you’re delving into is going to be a perfect addition to any millennial girl’s playlist. Hurt Any Less is my motherfucking jam a brilliant pop song (but also a bit house-y???) that details a relationship that was doomed from the start, “this was never love it was chaos” Aquilina sings while asserting that she “knew this was coming from day one.” There’s some lyrics in there you’re probably gonna wanna scream at the top of your lungs (that “why did you have to let me let you in?” line in particular) and the beat is gonna have you dancing around your room in your pj’s.

The record also features a live version of Fools, the first single Aquilina ever released. It’s a touching rendition of the piano ballad where she ponders going from friends to lovers, “What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools? And all we have, we lose?”  The original version was delicate and soft, perfectly representing the vulnerability of it’s writer. But the album version contrasts it’s predecessor ever so slightly, with an underlying electric guitar riff and a more mature sounding vocal. The evolution of the hopeful girl on the Fools EP to the more cynical woman on Isn’t It Strange feels almost palpable here. It’s followed up by Suddenly Strangers, one song that might reveal the reason behind this. The track seems to tell a story of what might happen if you do take that risk in a friendship, and ultimately end up losing it all like she feared on Fools. Within the song Aquilina crafts the story of two people who went “from everything to nothing, just like that.” She wonders out loud if the other person still talks  “about [their] doubts like they were demons” and mourns how they’d stay up late together “just to watch the date change to something new.” It’s just another pop song on the record, but it’s one of the most affecting, “From talking every waking hour to not knowing where you are now, we’re suddenly strangers, isn’t it strange?”

How Would You Like It & Thinking About are the belting ballads that give you a break from the pop, the latter being my favourite. It’s raw and powerful and touching and heartbreaking all at the same time. “I don’t know how emptiness can be this heavy,” Aquilina sings over a beautiful piano melody. The building crescendo of “All I am thinking about is not thinking about you,” in the bridge is probably one of my favourite moments on the album.

But it’s Ocean, the final song on the record, that has that special something. In a perfect end to the album, the production and the lyrics come together to create something truly atmospheric. “So vast, so free…” Aquilina sings amongst a haze of synth, something that feels reminiscent of a tide smashing against the shore. It evokes feelings of repression, a sense of drowning, a time in which she’s “lost [her] head.” Aside from how powerful the song is sonically, I can’t help feeling that lyrically, it’s a particularly fitting song to close the album on – an album which cost the musician sacrifices to her own mental wellbeing in it’s creation. I really hope Lauren Aquilina finds that sense of freedom and peace she seems to be looking for on Ocean. Regardless of whether this really is the last piece of music we’ll ever hear from the young singer-songwriter, I am grateful for this little bit she chose to share with us and I am sure it will soundtrack some of my journey to that place too.

Rating: 4/5