Alas I cannot swim
This astonishingly young - she's still only 18 - singer-songwriter has wisdom beyond her years or perhaps just the ability to look at the world with unjaded eyes. Although this is her debut album, it's a very accomplished work and she sings convincingly of experiences it's hard to imagine most 18-year-olds have lived through (or maybe I'm just old). The songs reveal a darker, more complex, refreshingly honest side than one might initially expect. Comparisons with her heroine Joni Mitchell have been made and it’s easy to see why • she seems to be a natural born storyteller and her lyrics are compelling and intriguing. Her voice is strong yet simple, putting a very modern spin on folk.
Marling touches on dark subjects such as depression - with astonishing insight in My manic and I. The unorthodox song opens with ‘he wants to die in a lake in Geneva, where the mountains can cover the shape of his nose’. But the overall effect is uplifting rather than morose. Her beautiful guitar playing and the accompanying instruments (imaginatively arranged by Charlie Fink from Noah and the Whale) provide the perfect backdrop to the gently flowing yet rich melodies. Night Terror is a broodingly beautiful song, while You’re no God capably dissects religion. Tap at my Window, an indictment of crap parenting skills, which almost everyone can relate to, has the immortal line ‘I cannot forgive you for bringing me up this way’, referencing Philip Larkins’ poem with the line ‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad’. The song lyrics, which she herself admits are stream of consciousness, combined with her deceptively simple voice, are arresting. The overall effect as the songs shift from upbeat to more thoughtful is overwhelmingly lovely and not a little surprising. And all the better for it.