Captivating homespun acoustic wholesomeness

The word lo-fi was made to describe what Lizzyspit does. To be honest, it’s easy to pick it up and go “not another female singer-songwriter please!” but bear with it. Lizzyspit’s endearing approach to music is unusual, as the little blurb on the sleeve will attest to. The whole thing was a bedroom project, and it’s slightly echoey homespun feel of one girl and her guitar will either irritate or captivate. Hence the eggboxes. In case you were wondering, they make brilliant (and cheap) soundproofing. ‘Not After This’ kicks off the album pretty mildly. It’s ‘Jack Of All Trades’ that is more lyrically interesting, capturing the everyday frustration of an obviously creative soul. ‘Stars In The Water’ is the most incredible piece on the album, more heartbreaking and dreamy, with a simple repeated refrain, gorgeous backing vocals, and twinkly bells. But it’s very much out of synch with the rest of the guitar-driven album.

Lizzyspit’s delicate, high-pitched vocals are a delight to listen to, not being afflicted with any Lily Allen-esque irritating accent or vocal acrobatics. ‘I Don’t Need A Drummer’ is a beautiful example of her singing at its best. It would be easy to overlook the guitar work too, which may be low-key but is stunningly original, harking back to single-note blues riffs for an indie generation. If most singers use an acoustic guitar as a token gesture, Lizzy makes it speak for itself as well as using it as backing for her voice. ‘Eggbox’ is as technical as it gets, with one overdubbed vocal that gives it a sweet harmony and singalong feel, and a strummed catchy rhythm.

Lizzy’s niceness as a person really comes through in the music. It’s dedicated to friends and family, and is inspired by the everyday emotional world around her. Which is creditable, as the emotional honesty is something that most listeners will relate to really well. But it puts her in competition with the other singers out there doing the same, such as Sandie Thom. The ever-so-slight hint of bitterness in ‘Another Word For A Lie’ teeters on the edge of being more unforgiving and sharper than the rest of her easygoing material, but never quite makes it. But there’s a good ear for a neat melody and an eye for the bigger picture, as she says, be nice on the way up, because you’ll meet her on the way down. It’s pretty philosophical without being preachy.

On the other hand, it’s ten tracks of voice and guitar, so it’s probably not a record that’s going to be on permanent rotation for anyone. But if you’re looking for a sympathetic soul after a hard day, you could find a kindred spirit in Lizzy.