Possibly it’s summer season approaching, however I can’t get it out of my head that Elizabeth Hume’s music is slightly like seaglass.
There’s one thing translucent, however hued – hazy and rounded, however inherently sharp – a sensation that till the second her music washed up on shore, it was quietly however violently roiling, roiling beneath opaque waters. However you understand: in a pure, stunning sort of method: the emotional waters of life, that erode us down finer and softer.
After which, for Hume, that sea of feelings turns a music into a phenomenal piece of seaglass.
Blue, I feel. Now candy little infants stare at it with their very own large glass blown eyes with glittery marvel, vacationing siblings seek for the beads of pure jewels over illicit household gossip, older seashore goers bend their sunhats down, dipped towards the tide, and convey it house to prime their decades-long stash.
Of the 4 songs in her present repertoire, Hume’s confirmed her adeptness in creating an upbeat, however aloof sound, as if fogged up – dreamlike. In “Respiration,” even her determined break, screaming, “I wanna know you!” has an amber fuzz round it; “Sprinklers” jogs my memory of the torn, dream pop sound of Alvvays’ “Grownup Diversion”; & my favourite, “Bee Sting,” options addictive harmonies over prime a rolling melodic line, excessive and heavy on the similar time like a cloud about to pour.
“Someplace in Arizona” scales again considerably from the prior productions, guitar and voice, sluggish and confessional. It’s the a part of seaglass that feels a bit of disarming – not the peaceable beachgoers, however the reminder of the bottle, of it first being damaged.
‘Trigger I’m disassociated
Targeted on what they’re saying
however my thoughts is enjoying, enjoying video games with me
Hume’s voice breaks, recounting the reminiscence of a panic assault, of pure disassociation in a desert “too dry for [her] consolation.” The instrumentation picks up, the verses gaining excessive, shiny harmonies towards her breathy vocals. However the actual kicker for me is within the chancing to skirt down, to at occasions let the decrease notes grit, just like the pebbles that rock the underside of the automobile if you hit a tough patch. The disassociation stays excessive, eerie, drained, however it journeys into panic, and into one thing disconcerting, a sense Hume represents within the layered vocals.
Showcasing the unusual sensation of being wholly exterior of oneself, Hume expresses the tight discomfort of braids wrapping round her neck, of being unable to make out what others are attempting to inform her.
And I may drop dread on this rockbed I discovered
Understand it’s dramatic, however I really feel like mendacity down
[…] ‘Trigger I’m panicked, sweating nonetheless in my chair
Can’t cease the braids in my hair
From wrapping tight round my neck
And so they’re attempting to inform me issues
Are you attempting to inform me one thing?
Possibly a part of the rationale I affiliate Hume’s music with seaglass is as a result of this music, for me, is the sort of music I’d have on my iPod nano, sloshing via the quicksand that sinks me again to sea, trying on the horizon like I’ve considerations larger than what to make for dinner. And I imply, I do, however I’m listening to music to neglect about that. To sink into someone else’s catharsis and hope for a little bit of my very own.
And with this music, I get it.
Hume hits that excellent melange of melancholic, however excessive – frank, however not blunt. Trustworthy music, stunning, easy and honest. Filled with emotion, compacted right into a memento you’ll be able to’t assist however gather. From the bee sting, the chilly spray of sprinklers, the desert panic assault – Hume appears incapable of doing something aside from creating one thing great out of what was a bit of painful, and damaged. And I can’t wait to see what a younger inventive like her has in retailer for us subsequent.
(picture courtesy of Elizabeth Hume’s instagram)