Our first impressions of Laura Marling’s third LP
A huge and unexpected success like ‘I Speak Because I Can’ was always going to lead to a period of reappraisal, and as the title suggests, Laura Marling’s showing some surprising new colours on her third album. Malevolently dark in places, playfully jazzy in others, it’s not the Marling you think you know. Lets take a listen.
‘The Muse’
Marling sounds more mischievous, more relaxed than ever before here, her voice rich and sophisticated. The light-touched jazziness of this with its stabbing, skittish piano and itchy brushed drums is very Joni Mitchell. Laura’s picked up the habit of sing-speaking every now and again for emphasis, which is quite effective. Sassy, even. In fact she’s quite a bawdy Muse, you might even say. More a Thalia than a Calliope, if you know what I mean.
‘I Was Just A Card’
This starts with a wistful oboe, birdlike fingerpicking and Laura’s gentle threat of “you know, you know, I know, I know / Something about you that you don’t want me to know”, before shifting into a moody, still slightly jazzy folk rock that in some ways wouldn’t sound out of place at Lilith Fair, before pulling back to a gentle delicate chorus. It never gets too Sarah McLachlan, roughed up as it is by Marling’s raw voice with its odd guttural twists.
‘Don’t Ask Me Why’
A dark and graceful whirling waltz, again very Joni Mitchell-esque. It begins with a little Spanish-style flourish and wandering verses that succumb to a big swirling melodic chorus with guitar and fiddle and shaker “Those of us who are lost and low/I know how you feel, I know it’s not right but it’s real”.
‘Salinas’
“I am from Salinas where the women go forever, and they never ever stop to ask why”. Oo-er missus. This one is very Dylanish, with a bareness that throws the weight on the odd expressivity of Marling’s voice and the narrative in the lyrics, which seems to be a tale of lost women: “Ask the angels, will I ever see heaven again”. Electric and acoustic guitar blend on a gracefully descending, gutsy chorus. It’s the rockiest, bluesiest thing we’ve heard from her yet, and it’s no surprise that she shares a producer with Ryan Adams.
‘The Beast’
…well, that was the rockiest thing we’d heard from her yet, until this monster. Those odd shifty-rhymthed strums build into something darker and darker, heavier and intenser until we could almost be in PJ Harvey’s ‘4 Track Demos’. “Calling Sophia goddess of power,” invokes Marling, “Instead I got The Beast and tonight he lies with me”.
‘Night After Night’
Slightly Spanish, melodic, emotional fingerpicking, over which Laura’s voice is subdued. The lyric is laden with mysterious secrets, guilt and recrimination. “Night after night, day after day / Would you watch my body weaken, my mind drift away?“
‘My Friends’
Laura’s voice is layered, supporting itself over another strong, sturdy folk strum. And guess what, she’s beating herself up again: “Why can’t I understand / Why can’t I see what it is you see / Why can’t I live and just be / I am full of guilt”. While not simplistic in emotion, it’s certainly a more accessible sound that you can imagine will garner even more new fans than ‘I Speak…’. It ends in quite a riotous, heel-tapping fashion, Laura’s voice twisting up beautiful and liquid.
‘Rest In The Bed’
A sort of medieval, madrigal sounding thing, a love song. “There lies a man of my heart / A fine and complete work of art… rest in the bed of my bones / All that I want is a home”. It builds slowly with what sounds like mandolin and low hums and a rumble of bass a a spooky choral. The storm never quite breaks though and instead the song reins itself subtly back in.
‘Sophia’
“Oh I have been wandering… where I’ve been lately is no concern of yours” Marling chides harshly. Her vocal is cynical and weary, brought redemption by a lovely light melodic and carefree guitar part. Then, just when you’re thinking, ‘well, this is pleasant enough’ halfway through on the turn of a strum, it turns into an entirely different bloody song! Part Two is West Coast country rock with a swagger, an electric twang and a heavenly Fleetwood Mac-style backing vocal.
‘All My Rage’
A bone-rattling strum with a death-shanty feel. “I tip my cap to the raging sea / Cover me up I’m pale as night / With a mind so dark and skin so white / Is this the devil having fun / I tip my cap to the raging sun”. It seems to be a sort of nature sacrifice hymn concerning the loss of a child.
Verdict
Despite the title, Laura Marling’s third album is less a total reinvention than a subtle maturation, a stretching out to the extent of her reach in all directions. If that sounds boring, it’s also a record with more weight, darkness, humour and playfulness than ever before, her rockiest and jazziest moments yet, but also her most accessible sound. It’s kinda great.
