ALBUM REVIEWS
Adrianne Lenker represents a kind of contemporary American beatnik if you removed the drug-fuelled debauchery. Raised in various Christian cults before breaking out to live on the road, she is part of a long, fertile tradition of nomadic artists like Sylvia Plath, whose pens are often their only reassuring company. With songs that travel effortlessly across vast emotional landscapes, Lenker’s storytelling never raises the handbrake, manoeuvring regularly between themes such as lost love, childhood memories and passing time. Her writing is akin to the road itself; you’re never in one place for very long.
Returning with her sixth solo record ‘Bright Future’, the Big Thief frontwoman achieves a newfound lyrical self-assuredness here. While her previous albums ‘Songs’ and ‘Abysskiss’ often recount Lenker’s past insecurities surrounding lost love with a tinge of self-criticism (“Remind me how to be loved by you?” she sang in 2018’s ‘What Can You Say’), ‘Bright Future’ looks forward with strong determination. Today, Lenker asserts on ‘Evol’, “You have my heart, and I want it back”.
The potency of Lenker’s storytelling is enforced by the album’s production; no song is spliced or overdubbed, often captured on the first take. On ‘Real House’, a sombre tale of a childhood pet, her voice goes from quiet to loud as she steps away from the microphone before swaying toward it again. Here, intimacy is created through the palpable motion of Lenker’s voice, which is raw and unveiled, neither covered by instrumentation nor production effects.
Movement is the fuel to ‘Bright Future’ and rhythm the accelerator. ‘Sadness As A Gift’, a song about lost time, is underpinned by driving open chords and spine-tingling top notes woven together by the piano and violin. Later, we hear about love’s misdirection in ‘No Machine’, a gently flowing ballad marked by gorgeous stringed harmonics, which tremble above the words “don’t know where I’d go without you”.
It’s been a decade since Lenker first began to make her mark with her second album ‘Hours Were The Birds’, and her direction remains unclear. However, it is precisely this dislocation which wields tremendous power on ‘Bright Future’. Much like her beatnik days on the road, this album reflects all of life’s twists and turns. It’s the perfect soundtrack to a long car journey spent staring out of the window, yearning for those you left behind: “The clouds are rolling by / The wind across my back I feel the shiver” she sings on ‘No Machine’, “Drive around from town to town / To the ocean of your love I am a river”.
ALBUM REVIEWS
There’s a deliberate defiance in the title for Lucy Rose’s fifth album, ‘This Ain’t The Way You Go Out’. Speaking to NME earlier this year, she detailed the health issues she faced post-pregnancy that left her with eight broken vertebrae in her back: “Life was definitely upside down – I couldn’t walk or move, and breathing was excruciating”.
She credits a community of musicians – Paul Weller, US rapper Logic and producer Kwes – as encouraging her to create with freedom as she navigated her recovery. ‘This Ain’t The Way You Go Out’, then, is less about bold statements but recognising the quiet, personal victories on that journey. On ‘Over When it’s Over’ she sings that they’ll find “our way through” an embattled situation with both grit and grace. It’s particularly moving after ‘Could You Help Me’’s appeal for some kind of healing: “Now I’m learning / How terribly lonely illness is / On a hard day / Has there ever been another way?”
Now, she brings in a dancey shuffle to ‘Could You Help Me’ and ‘Life’s Too Short’ and a fearless veracity on ‘The Racket’; these are some of the most interesting and sonically varied songs of her entire career. This is, one hopes, the start of an intriguing new chapter.
