Brighton's soothing songbird spreads her wings with intimate acoustic third album
9/10
A few years ago, I was sent a CD called House of Cards by this young lady. To say I was blown away by its honesty and, above all, breezy pop tunes, would be an understatement. 'Emily Baker', I said at the time, 'remember the name'. However, it seems some of you weren't reading, or listening, or were too busy jerking off to X Factor drips or floppy-fringed screamo-kids to even notice. Shame on you. Throw another turgid Olly Murs/One Direction/Little Mix album on the fire - Emily Baker is back with more 'proper' emotional torment, tugged heart-strings and lyrical alliteration by the van-load.
All At Sea is her third full-length set (well, nine songs) and it is quite, quite special. Essentially, Baker has dropped the full(ish) band line-up of the last album and surrounded herself with chums playing minimal guitars, double-bass and percussion, plus the odd hand-clap here and there. Normally, this formula would have me running for the first taxi out of humdrum town but, in this singer's capable mitts, the description of 'acoustic songwriter' proves to be a delight, rather than a tiresome Sheeran-esque chore.
Run, Best Laid Plans and Northern Lights are reflective little pieces that evoke references to Joni Mitchell, Kathryn Williams or, perhaps, Eddi Reader, while Tennessee is a Trans-American tale with super slide-guitar style atmospherics that has its creator proclaiming that she's "not about to drown myself in Bourbon", but clearly bitten by the Nashville dream. In another universe, this simple song would be marching up the charts, flicking it's whisky-soaked V's at all and sundry. Sadly, we're here, in Blandtopia and it won't. Mind you, never say never.
At least the smug among us can seek solace in the sweetly-crooned Coast is Clear or the finale, Out of Time. After those two songs, you might need a subscription with Kleenex, such is their lachrymose blueprint. All of which might make you ponder as to whether Emily Baker has had a good run at life and had the odd knock, or has suffered something akin to being Jennifer Aniston's scattergun doppelganger - you know, the kooky girl who spends the entire movie looking like she's emitted a particularly robust fart on public transport and subsequently suffered an embarrassing 'follow-through' into someone's handbag.
Crikey, that last thought is enough to make you want to hit the Jim Beam for breakfast - or submit it to Hollywood as a script.
Thus we must assume that Baker's knack of relationship summations and descriptive critique is down to having talent. Oh yes, talent - you remember - it's here, on this album. Buy it. Pop B00BCD5N1K in Amazon's search and there it is.
For info about Emily Baker's live shows, head to Allgigs here
9/10
All At Sea is her third full-length set (well, nine songs) and it is quite, quite special. Essentially, Baker has dropped the full(ish) band line-up of the last album and surrounded herself with chums playing minimal guitars, double-bass and percussion, plus the odd hand-clap here and there. Normally, this formula would have me running for the first taxi out of humdrum town but, in this singer's capable mitts, the description of 'acoustic songwriter' proves to be a delight, rather than a tiresome Sheeran-esque chore.
Run, Best Laid Plans and Northern Lights are reflective little pieces that evoke references to Joni Mitchell, Kathryn Williams or, perhaps, Eddi Reader, while Tennessee is a Trans-American tale with super slide-guitar style atmospherics that has its creator proclaiming that she's "not about to drown myself in Bourbon", but clearly bitten by the Nashville dream. In another universe, this simple song would be marching up the charts, flicking it's whisky-soaked V's at all and sundry. Sadly, we're here, in Blandtopia and it won't. Mind you, never say never.
At least the smug among us can seek solace in the sweetly-crooned Coast is Clear or the finale, Out of Time. After those two songs, you might need a subscription with Kleenex, such is their lachrymose blueprint. All of which might make you ponder as to whether Emily Baker has had a good run at life and had the odd knock, or has suffered something akin to being Jennifer Aniston's scattergun doppelganger - you know, the kooky girl who spends the entire movie looking like she's emitted a particularly robust fart on public transport and subsequently suffered an embarrassing 'follow-through' into someone's handbag.
Crikey, that last thought is enough to make you want to hit the Jim Beam for breakfast - or submit it to Hollywood as a script.
Thus we must assume that Baker's knack of relationship summations and descriptive critique is down to having talent. Oh yes, talent - you remember - it's here, on this album. Buy it. Pop B00BCD5N1K in Amazon's search and there it is.
For info about Emily Baker's live shows, head to Allgigs here