Tag Archives: Music

Rigoletto, a review by Eva Marloes

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

At the core of Rigoletto is the tragedy of an overprotective father, Rigoletto, who wants to kill his daughter’s suitor, the Duke, a well-known womaniser, but has his daughter killed instead. Gilda is a victim of her father’s control, of the Duke’s seduction, but also of the often misogynistic notions of love as self-sacrifice that lead her to her demise. Yet the Duke is also tragic.

Verdi moved away from Hugo’s story Le roi s’amuse, on which Rigoletto is based. The Duke is not just a womaniser with no scruples, making fun of women in La donna è mobile. He is a dissolute man but one who is seduced by Gilda’s purity and perhaps even falls really in love with her.

It’s a tragedy that is never staged. Most productions are seduced by the need of being relevant, contemporary, even topical. There are times when, thanks to fortuitous timing, the contemporary political setting works. This is the case of the WNO’s production of Rigoletto in 2019 set the opera in Washington at the height of the #metoo era. The staging, direction, orchestra and performances were superb.

This production of Rigoletto is pleasant, with good performances but tame with a subdued orchestra and no clear take. Adele Thomas’s direction has no clear and consistent interpretation of the drama. There are references to politics and the Bullingdon club but in 18th century costumes making the staging confused and confusing. The direction constraints the performers and fails to convey the contrasting elements of the seductive myschief, tragic love, and suspence of the opera.

Daniel Luis de Vicente, Alyona Abramova, Raffaele Abete and Soraya Mafi in Rigoletto. Photo Richard Hubert Smith.

Soraya Mafi, as Gilda, has a beautiful voice and performs Caro nome impeccably, yet her Gilda is a little too fragile. Raffaele Abete, as the Duke, sings well. His voice is agile but not powerful enough to carry the persona of the Duke. The direction and interpretation makes this Duke a bit of a lightweight. He’s not seductive, he’s not even a bad boy, he’s merely vain. 

Daniel Luis Vicente excels as Rigoletto cutting a very tragic figure and, at times, stealing the scene, including the final quartet. Notable are also the performances of Nathanaël Tavernier as Sparafucile and of Alyona Abramova as Maddalena. Abramova performs soulfully, but being a mezzo rather than a contralto, does not provide a sufficient contrast with Mafi’s Gilda in the final quartet. 

The strong performances make this production pleasant but constrained and at times, especially in the final quartet, disjointed. The orchestra, conducted by Pietro Rizzo, lacks power. The scene of the storm is disrupted by the rather ill-conceived idea of firing lights onto the audience instead of letting the music conjure the wind and thunder.

The WNO can do a lot better than this, as shown recently in Il Trittico. It can excel. Let’s hope this is a blip, perhaps the result of the cutting of funding and constant insecurity over their future. The WNO is a treasure in Wales and should be supported and allowed to grow.

Review: Rick by Ricky Montgomery by Sian Thomas

4/5 stars

Ricky Montgomery’s new album, Rick, landed on shelves and streaming services today. This is an album I’ve been looking forward to since his last album, Montgomery Ricky, and a handful of singles (such as some edits of songs from his first album, and singles from Rick such as Don’t Say That, Eraser, and Boy Toy) came out.

Montgomery Ricky released in 2016, with a track list of:
This December
Line Without a Hook
Cabo
Don’t Know How
Last Night
California
My Heart is Buried in Venice
Mr Loverman
Get Used to It
Snow
and a run-time of 35 minutes. However, his two songs, Line Without A Hook, and Mr Loverman went viral on TikTok back in 2020. Typically, they go hand in hand with various edits and memes, but when I discovered those songs and thereby the album and Ricky himself, I was floored by his music style, lyricism, and voice.

His new album Rick, had been alluded to and then promoted vigorously online, and described during his Block Party Podcast appearance as, “It’s called Rick, which is both my dad’s name, so it’s like being an adult and growing up without, you know, one of your parents. […] I am called Ricky, it’s my name that I go by, that I’ve gone by since I was a little boy – if your name is Ricky, there’s a point in your life where you consider becoming Rick.”. I found this particularly interesting as while the album progresses, it moves forward with the clear theme of rushing adulthood, self-discovery, and family relationships. I found it altogether endearing and in many instances, heartbreakingly intense.

Rick has a track list of
One Way Mirror
Boy Toy
Truth or Dare
I’m Just Joking in This Interlude (Interlude)
In Your Pocket
Don’t Say That
Eraser
We Got Married Twice (Interlude)
Type A
Paper Towel
Sometimes I Need to Be Alone
Ethan’s Song
Black Fins
Ribbons (Outro)
and a run-time of 40 minutes.

Songs such as Sometimes I Need to Be Alone stuck out to me as almost classics; soft and witty with lines such as “You tell me it’s not now or never / but I can’t wait forever / It’s such a simple question / with such an easy answer” and the repeating-to-finish lines of “It’s you”, the song quickly stuck out to me as an all-time favourite. I found it particularly inspiring as it goaded out my own creative endeavours with a burst of energy and life, which is always such a gorgeously invigorating feeling when finding a song, artist, or album.

The tracks Don’t Say That, Eraser, and Boy Toy were released early in anticipation for the album, and while in my experience I didn’t see many waves from Don’t Say That and Eraser, Ricky’s song Boy Toy was a quick hit to fans, myself included. I feel this song also boosted his online presence, leading to fun artist interactions and a fantastic peek into what the wider album would look like, especially with the inclusion of the lyric video. Boy Toy was an interesting look into the art and style of the music, with fun, bouncy music and catchy lyrics, with a nice undercurrent of vulnerability and admission. 

The general “vibe” of the art and presentation of this album almost gives me the vibe of a backroom, a liminal space, a creepy story regurgitated online; however all the music itself is incredibly vulnerable and introspective, especially given songs Truth of Dare and Type A, with lines such as “Let’s play truth or dare / try to act like I’m not scared / stripped down to my underwear / it’s only show and tell” and “What a year we’ve had / you went bi, I put my gender back” respectively, being amazingly open, raw, and real. 

The two interludes and outro include some spoken-word conversations between Ricky and his mother, discussing his father, in various past situations before their divorce and his untimely passing. There was a similar interlude in the 2022 EP It’s 2016 Somewhere, and these three tracks reek of that nostalgic tone. They are heartfelt, funny, and contemplative. A nice break to the album that provide a nice context, but ultimately become skips on further relistens as the draw is of course more naturally pointed to the songs.

Ricky Montgomery is honestly one of my absolute favourite artists I’ve had the fortune to come across, as his music is youthful, fun, and cuts right to the bone. My anticipation for Rick was high; I was incredibly excited for its release and found myself up and listening to the album as early as 5:30am the morning of release! It is truly an incredible listen, and I’m beyond excited to see where Ricky goes next (hopefully, to the UK on his tour!)

Sian Thomas

Polar Night, Jodie Marie, by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Three weeks in the Arctic Circle has certainly left its mark on Jodie Marie. The Welsh singer-songwriter’s new EP shivers with the cold fjord breeze and echoes the icy terrain of Norway’s northern tip. Yet there is also a log-fire intimacy and crunching of soft snow in its sound. It evokes a wild landscape of welcome and wonder. Polar Night is firmly rooted in the geography of its creation.

Opening track ‘Seiland’ plunges the listener into the frozen setting of Jodie Marie’s base with a continuous choral hum. Its simplicity is a theme that defines this record, here manifested in a short instrumental arrangement that tingles the senses. There is a wonderful incongruity between the constraint and freedom of her isolation. This is expressed in the rich combination of soulful vocals and balladeering piano which run through the rest of the record like a stalactite. Meanwhile, lyrics such as those on the title track – “biting wind / I’m frozen here / at the water’s edge / I feel free” – and ‘Blue Hour’ – “I’m lonely / but I feel alright” – act as a stalagmite that meets in the middle to create a solid pillar of yearning love.

https://dai.ly/x8ki159

The idea that absence makes the heart grow fonder becomes more explicit as the record progresses. And as it arises from the environment in which Jodie Marie finds herself, the songs are ripe with imagery and metaphor. There is something of the sacred in being “surrounded by beauty / and all I see is you” on ‘Blue Hour’. The wooing harmonies conjure up a whooshing wind on ‘Eye of the Storm’, tempered by the comfort of the electric guitar strings, resembling the arms of a loved one. Meanwhile, the stars become a focal point on ‘Closer to You’, the line “miles apart / but we share the same view” reinforcing the intriguing contrast of separation and connection found throughout the EP. It seems this Scandinavian island offered something more than just creative inspiration for Jodie Marie.

Final track ‘Reindeer Heart’ encapsulates the gentle nature of this EP musically whilst also reaffirming the metaphorical link between landscape and love in its lyrics. There is something mystical about this final song, borne of sensitivity and encouraged into being, as a presence that “leaves no traces… that the eye can see”. It is more in the vein of ‘Carageen’ than anything else from her last album ‘The Answer’. But whilst that arose from the Pembrokeshire shoreline, Polar Night was formed amidst the darkness of the far-northern hemisphere. Jodie Marie has captured this setting perfectly, so that even in the midst of its warm Spring release, its sense of place can be keenly felt, and when the sun goes down, embraced.

‘Polar Night’ is out now. Listen to it on Spotify here and/or order a physical copy of the EP here.

Reviewed by
Gareth Williams

Review, Elin Grace, Bee Without Wings EP, by Gareth Williams

One of the most exciting talents coming through this year’s Forté project is surely 18-year-old Elin Grace. The singer-songwriter from Mid Wales has just released an EP of sheer brilliance. ‘Bee Without Wings’ may only be her debut release but it demonstrates a maturity far beyond her years. Lyrically complex, sonically fascinating, vocally mesmerising, the whole record is absorbing from start to finish. With touches of Kate Bush, Lily Allen, Rona Mac and Amy Wadge, along with her particular inspiration Laura Marling, it is generous with genre while maintaining a consistency of sound. Always serving the narrative, the music becomes an accurate representation of each song: the fragile piano on ‘Little Bit Delicate’, the rhythmic synth of ‘Breathe’, the music box sound underlying ‘Doll’. All touch on mental health in some way, whether it be anxiety, self-esteem or depression. All contrast the expected angst of their subject matter with a poise that is strangely comforting – sometimes soft and light; ironic and even comic – to make this an EP shot through with eccentricity. It is as if Elin Grace is wanting to hold a mirror up to her experience to reveal its peculiarity. She is an artist of genuine depth, unafraid to share moments of personal vulnerability and confident to deconstruct the false values of contemporary society. ‘Bee Without Wings’ is a consummate piece of music-making. Elin Grace has a very bright future ahead of her.

Reviewed by Gareth Williams

Review, Shades of Ham, Rona Mac, by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Rona Mac describes the pink cover of her latest EP ‘Shades of Ham’ as a dichotomy. It is a colour, she says, that is both “fierce, bold and strong as well as delicate, floral and soft”. It seems a particularly fitting description for an artist who finds strength in vulnerability. But it also captures something of the sharp contrasts that imbue this record. The Welsh singer-songwriter is perfectly capable of packing a punch one minute and tenderly caressing the next. Not only is she inspired by the Pembrokeshire landscape in which she lives, but the rugged cliffs and sloping green fields seem to represent her music too.

Opening track ‘Something Good’ oozes intimacy. There is something about those ambling guitar loops and sauntering vocals, carried over from her debut album ‘Sheelah’, that transfix, and traverse the line between light and shade that defines her work. Unvarnished truth-telling mixes with splashes of colour that speak of hope, not only on a personal level but a political one too. ‘Polidics’ is a well-versed dig at those in power. The pounding beats as Rona speaks of the privileged “men in jackets sit[ting] importantly… pouring port in front of me” contribute to a deeply-held frustration at the way the country is currently run. Add into the mix a damning critique of consumerism, with its “money wrapped in lights so take it”, and you get a sense of the raw honesty and unbounded personality of this quietly-countercultural artist.

‘Polidics’ does not remain in a state of anger. Rather, it is a song of two halves, the second of which moves on “to where they cannot find me”, amidst “the flowers and the grasses”, from which “we’ll rise, a bunch of honest creatures fill the skies”. Combined with a more free-flowing alt-pop sound, it makes for a track that is ultimately casting toward a better, brighter vision of the world. On a more practical level, it also prepares the way for the softer sound of ‘The Road to Your House’. Here, the usual shimmering soundscape is stilled by the clarity of the acoustic guitar. Suddenly, we are witness to a beautifully-told story through folk music that feels miles away from the frustration of a few minutes ago. Sadness and regret still seep into its reflection but there is also a sprightliness contained within. The guitar solo in the middle echoes such sentiment, and is easy to get lost in. ‘Smoke’ has a similar ruminating quality. It reminds me a lot of Georgia Ruth’s album ‘Mai’: soothing and affecting; complex, even in its simplicity.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuFi3ACkfi0
*contains strong language

Final track ‘Paper’ has the same two-toned substance as ‘Polidics’. On the one hand a love-letter, on the other a seething criticism, it mixes alt-pop beats with acoustic reflection padded with the sound of waves. Similar to ‘Carageen’ by Jodie Marie, it suggests that Rona Mac’s Pembrokeshire location offers a kind of grounding, a place to which she escapes as well as from where she writes her songs. It certainly seems to have offered her the freedom to not be bound by conventions. ‘Shades of Ham’ continues to showcase this genre-fusing approach. It is a record that is undeniably Rona Mac. May she never compromise on that.

https://open.spotify.com/album/5sxwyEiYtCxMXp8d9BdIOt?si=JIZxFRd-QzGlYOuJ7a76Mg

Follow Rona Mac on Instagram/Twitter @RonaMac_Music

Reviewed by
Gareth Williams

Review, A Merry Eleri Christmas, Eleri Angharad by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Welsh singer-songwriter Eleri Angharad is ending a successful 2021 on a suitably festive note. A Merry Eleri Christmas is a pleasant four-track EP that returns to her folk roots whilst retaining an element of that experimental pop that worked so well on her debut EP, Nightclub Floor.

Opening track ‘Homemade Christmas’ certainly evokes the feel of her 2019 album Earthbound, with a ballad-like piano and subtle sleigh bells contributing to a romantic story told with Eleri’s soft and harmonious vocals front and centre. The stripped back nature of her music means that her cover of Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe’ is much slower, less boppier than the original. The effect is a version suitably forged in rural Wales rather urban Tennessee. Not that Celtic folk defines this EP.

‘Santa’s Little Helper’ retains the sultry pop of ‘New Sin’, speaking to an independence that is the opposite of the first track. There is an appropriately bluesy guitar in the bridge that adds to an overall sense of self-empowerment, expressed perfectly in the lyrics “Santa’s little helper I was never gonna be/ or a pretty little angel sitting on your Christmas tree”. The production here is far from that found on final track ‘Santa Baby’. It is surprisingly acoustic, offering none of the seductiveness found in some other versions; instead, returning to the playfulness of Eartha Kitt’s original but with much more innocence infused into the fun.

It ends an EP that is sweetly festive without being too sickly; is easy listening but not saccharine.

Review by
Gareth Williams

Madam Butterfly, review by eva marloes

WNO Madam Butterfly – photo credit Richard Hubert Smith

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Under the direction of Lindy Hume, the Welsh National Opera’s Madam Butterfly is set in an imaginary dystopic future to convey the cruelty of imperialism. The opera is no longer set in Japan but in an exotic oasis for the pleasure of wealthy American men. It reminded me of the 1964 Russian propaganda film I Am Cuba by Mikhail Kalatozov. In the film, Cuba is the seductive playground of rich Americans, a country turned prostitute by Batista. Although too propagandistic in narrative, the unorthodox cinematography of I Am Cuba, with its extreme wide-angles and complex tracking-shots, made the film unsettling and powerful. Alas, Lindy Hume’s anti-colonial vision for Madam Butterfly loses force by decontextualising the drama.  

The opera begins with women in white short tulle dresses and tall pink wigs. Among them is Cio-cio-sa/Butterfly, who is to wed American soldier Pinkerton. The action takes place in and around a two-storey rotating white cube. Hume sought to emphasise the exploitation of Butterfly who is sold as trophy bride and quickly discarded. Butterfly is a victim of a misogynistic colonial society. Yet, by erasing Japan from Madam Butterfly, the colonial othering of Cio-cio-sa is lost. Relationships of power are all dependent on context. They cannot be abstracted. Cio-cio-san is the trophy bride because she is a Japanese young girl to be collected like a colourful butterfly. 

WNO Madam Butterfly Alexia Voulgaridou Cio Cio San Peter Auty Pinkerton photo credit Richard Hubert Smith 

In addition, there is a lot more to Cio-cio-san than Hume’s direction implies. She is here painted as a victim, disregarding how 15-year-old Cio-cio-san, notwithstanding being still a child, escapes her family and clan. She goes against her home society to affirm her own will. She stays loyal to her American husband and to his country to the very end. The tragedy lies in the fact that she finds her downfall in her loyalty and shame. Alexia Voulgaridou gives a rounded performance making one forget the awkward futuristic setting designed by Isabella Bywater. 

Voulgaridou gives an impeccable performance as Cio-cio-san. Her voice is powerful and agile; it develops in intensity as the tragedy unfolds. Her interpretation is subtle and convincing. Kezia Bienek, as Suzuki, is also noteworthy. She conveys the melancholy of her role as Cio-cio-san’s sister perfectly. Together, Voulgaridou and Bienek deliver a beautiful duet full of warmth.  

Julian Boyce as Imperial Commissioner and Tom Randle as Goro give solid and sophisticated performances, less impressive is Peter Auty’s Pinkerton. Excellent is the orchestra conducted with fervour and depth by Carlo Rizzi. The impressive performances, the orchestra, and Puccini’s music make one forget the contrived setting. 

Review, Road to Ruin, Dan Jordan & The Warbirds, by Gareth Williams

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

Dan Jordan and The Warbirds evade categorisation. They are poetry. They are music. They are outlaw country. They are moody blues. They are folk storytelling. They are heavy metal vocals. The only seminal thread that runs through their latest album, Road to Ruin, is main man Dan’s clear connection to the music of Bob Dylan. He may not readily admit to such an influence being a conscious thing, but it is apparent that his time spent with Dylan over the course of his first album has had a lasting effect. His vocal delivery may not be to everyone’s taste, but one should at least be able to appreciate the hard-felt poetry that emanates from it.

Opening track Slow Burn may get off to a slow start but its first few moments of silence create a real sense of anticipation. A whirring cymbal then comes spinning into existence before being knocked sideways by the hard keys of a piano. It introduces the heavy beat which symbolises much of the album’s dark veneer, Jordan’s own smoky Dylan-esque vocals then coming in to add further shade. There is a sultry otherworldliness to the piano and electric guitar which gives it a certain intrigue and stops it descending into a black hole. The various mixing of genres, from the Latinized Country of Rider to the Metalized Blues of Run, have a similar effect, the poetic nature of Jordan’s lyrics also contributing to this sense of fascination which surrounds much of the album.

Each track is greeted with surprise. Each offers something slightly different from the rest. Ain’t Got Nothin’ may have a classic Blues structure but Matts White and Taylor bring some wonderful organ and electric guitar respectively to give it an added dimension. The soft and delicate composition on Seven Deaths of You creates a beautifully light atmosphere which allows deeper access into Jordan’s poetry. There is a real slice of folk storytelling here, delivered rather nicely through a deep voice that contains the faint presence of delicacy and vulnerability. Sweet City Ruin manages to uncover this further in lines like “stumbling through the city like a spectre” and “all you want is for the world to know that you were here” even as they are hidden behind the up-tempo, western swing style music.

There is a mythical quality to Elena which could be said to draw on folk tradition. The track that follows, Nightingale,certainly seems to suggest a strong folk influence upon Jordan’s work. His always gritty and grave delivery never allows for the same cadences that one might find among the typical folk singer however, meaning the loss of emotionality to some degree. What is lost here though is made up for in another unexpected musical addition, this time the introduction of pop elements followed by a sudden flurry of different instruments that take the album in a completely different direction. It means that, even as Jordan’s vocal starts to feel staid, there is enough originality to keep you listening right to the end.

Final track This Land has No Name is definitely worth sticking around for. On its musical surface is a wild west evoking landscape, complete with tolling bell and front porch guitar. It is the country music of the outlaws, reclaiming their rural roots from the urbanisation of an earlier sound. Dig a little deeper into the lyrics, and you begin to see the parallels. Yet this song speaks not of a place across the pond but a land much closer to home. Those “structures… crooked… battered” are the stone houses dotted across the countryside. The “roofs made of tin” are the barns stood in fields “still breathing [though] barely alive”. The bar, “as dry as a bone” and “the shops, boarded up” represent the communities who have lost their amenities to the forces of globalisation and capitalism. It is a depiction of Wales that is keenly felt and of which Dan Jordan seems acutely aware, no doubt garnered from his own geographical movement across the nation’s map. It is a protest song, if you will, inspired, whether conscious or not, by folk pioneers such as Bob Dylan, with a contemporary resonance that ensures Road to Ruin finishes with a political bang.

To find out more about Dan Jordan & The Warbirds, click here. To listen to album on Spotify, click here.

Reviewed by
Gareth Williams

An Interview with singer-songwriter Eleri Angharad, conducted by Gareth Williams

In this latest interview, Get the Chance member Gareth Williams chats to singer-songwriter Eleri Angharad. Their chat takes place in the form of a podcast, the third in a trial series in conversation with Welsh creatives. Eleri talks about her new EP, Nightclub Floor, as well as Swansea’s music scene, songwriting, her creative journey as a musician, and Welsh identity.

Click here to listen to the interview.

To find out more about Eleri, visit her website here, or follow her on social media @ImEleriAngharad.

You can purchase Nightclub Floor on her website, or stream it here.

Get the Chance supports volunteer critics like Gareth to access a world of cultural provision. We receive no ongoing, external funding. If you can support our work please donate here. Thanks.

Review, The Answer, Jodie Marie by Gareth Williams

Muscle Shoals comes to Pembrokeshire as singer-songwriter Jodie Marie releases her latest genre-defying album ‘The Answer’.

 out of 5 stars (5 / 5)

Welsh singer-songwriter Jodie Marie is an artist who refuses to play by the music industry rules. Her latest album The Answer is an exemplary response to those who would wish to classify her sound under a single heading. For though there is a blues thread that runs soulfully through this 12-track collection, the genre-blending that goes on both within and between each song makes this a musical tapestry of the highest quality. It is rich with meaning, drawing on inspiration from the past and mixing it with a contemporary sound to create something that is both reminiscent yet highly original. The result is a sublime record that makes for a captivating listen.

The Answer opens with the smooth funk and soul of ‘You are my Life’. It is characteristic of much of the album insofar as it transports you back some fifty years whilst remaining firmly rooted in the present. ‘Ain’t No Doubt about It’ echoes this same feeling, with a gorgeous arrangement that soaks you in the sounds of Motown whilst being resonant of the music of people as eclectic as Amy Winehouse, Paolo Nutini and CeeLo Green. It demonstrates an altogether playful approach to music making as Jodie mixes and matches various flavours to compose songs that are replete with nods to the past. In doing so, she does not just pay homage to the music she grew up listening to but, on songs such as ‘A Whole Lot of Loving’, she breathes new life into these timeless sounds. Nowhere is this more evident than on ‘Don’t Go Telling Me (That It’s Over)’, a ludicrously enjoyable song that combines classic doo-wop with electric guitar blues to create an incredibly moreish track.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZ8-u9b3gHw

Even when she strips things back to produce moments of acoustic tenderness, Jodie’s sound remains impossible to clinically define. ‘Carageen’ washes over you like the gentle crashing of waves on a shore. Its central metaphor seems to represent a kind of spiritual grounding for Jodie: a place that centres her and from which her music, in all its eclectic glory, therapeutically flows. ‘Saving Grace’ offers up a beautifully intimate picture of love that requires deep listening. It is storytelling in the vein of a Nashville Songwriter’s Round yet one cannot claim it as pure country. Just as ‘Kiss These Tears Away’ cannot simply be a ballad of the blues. Instead, Jodie manages to weave enough elements into each track so as they become wonderfully ambiguous. This is most true in the title track. ‘The Answer’ contains hints of modern country, ‘60s rock, and Welsh electro-pop, undercut with a blues vibe and layered with pure soul. The result is a raw and rousing sound of real emotion and depth.

‘Hanging by a String’ is like an audio illustration of the kind of building blocks that go into making Jodie Marie’s overall sound. From its humble intro, Jodie stacks brick upon brick of musical instrumentation to construct a track that is perfectly-formed and insulated with solid soul. ‘This House’ is built on the blues and is kitted out with the best of classic rock. Such rock is infused with pop to create a catchy refrain on ‘Curse the Day’ that sparks with electricity. The Answer is brought to life by such commingling of genres which, one cannot help but feel, reflects the beating heart of Jodie herself. This is what makes the album so special. She has not compromised or standardised on anything. Instead, she has made a record that is truly her. And that authenticity shines through. Jodie Marie is a champion of artistic vision over and above what the industry demands. The Answer is the answer to anyone who thinks otherwise.

Click here to listen to the album on Spotify.

To find out more about Jodie Marie and/or purchase the album, visit her website here.

Review by
Gareth Williams