Flashes of folk with whispers of Llana Del Rey
Based in Portland, Oregon – a Stateside Shangri-la of yummy mummies who craft their own fixed-gear bicycles out of tampon strings and tofu-based meat substitutes – [a]Laura Gibson[/a] has created an album that her holier-than-thou hipster neighbours will devour, but which also transcends said hordes of ironic bobble-hat wearers. Squeaking with the glamour of a rusty gramophone, ‘[b]The Rushing Dark[/b]’ flashes with delicate splendour and, alongside ‘[b]Time Is Not[/b]’, evokes moonlit, cobbled Parisian streets and carafes of elderflower wine. Sure, there are flashes of folk in the mix, but this is far removed from [a]Laura Marling[/a]’s weighty world-weariness. Gibson’s lacy touch pitches ‘[b]Skin, Warming Skin[/b]’ somewhere between the spooky and the sublime. With quietly melodramatic piano and strings, album closer ‘[b]Feather Lungs[/b]’ contains whispers of [a]Lana Del Rey[/a] – but, have no doubt about it, Gibson’s voice is 100 per cent her own.