Skip to main content

Guest Review: Bowden On Rose



Eyewear's music critic Lydia Bowden on Lucy Rose's album Like I Used To

I first heard of Lucy Rose whilst walking past my local record store. My friend pointed to a poster in the window and asked me if I knew of her; I didn’t. I promised myself that I would go home and search for her on YouTube; I never did. 

Lucy Rose Looking Happy

 So, a week later I end up hearing a folky, young sounding female voice coming at me from the radio one morning, and I just want to stop everything I am doing to listen. ‘Bikes’ is playing, and being one of her more upbeat songs from her first album ‘Like I Used To’, it still sounds soft and peaceful and good. Innocent. This music sets you into some kind of trance, every song with its hypnotising speedy guitar riffs, and the accompanying husky voice of Lucy Rose. Sometimes, it’s hard to even notice any music at all, it’s just her voice speaking to you her troubles and opinions on everyone and everything in the world.

‘Lines’ for example, starts with the line ‘If you can see through it all/ If you can see that I’m here/ Did the moment pass you by’, with little to no sound backing her voice. This way, you can really hear what she is pissed off about. ‘Red Face’, ‘Middle of the Bed’ and ‘Shiver’ are also the product of some kind of life dilemma. 

Towards the middle of the album, it’s as though it’s progressed, and there’s ballsy ideas coming from the songs. You can see it in the song titles. Compared to the beginning few songs, they develop into ‘Don’t You Worry’, ‘Be Alright’ and ‘Little Brave’. However, the songs don’t get anymore upbeat, they still keep their relaxing sweetness.

I do love Lucy Rose. I can listen to her, curled up in a ball on my bed with a cup of tea, all through winter. But sometimes you need something to get you out of bed, and this album won’t do that so don’t expect to be too uplifted by the album other than ‘Bikes’. However, this album is what it is. What you see is what you get, quite literally- Lucy Rose is lying on her back in the middle of a field, alone, probably sad. Saying that, there is a need for albums like this, like how Bruno Mars can’t stop crying and threatening to kill himself. This is a little softer, less suicidal, I guess.
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

AMERICA PSYCHO

According to the latest CBS, ABC, etc, polls, Clinton is still likely to beat Trump - by percentile odds of 66% to 33% and change. But the current popular vote is much closer, probably tied with the error of margin, around 44% each. Trump has to win more key battleground states to win, and may not - but he is ahead in Florida...

We will all know, in a week, whether we live in a world gone madder, or just relatively mad.

While it seems likely calmer heads will prevail, the recent Brexit win shows that polls can mislead, especially when one of the options is considered a bit embarrassing, rude or even racist - and Trump qualifies for these, at least.

If 42-45% of Americans admit they would vote for Trump, what does that say about the ones not so vocal? For surely, they must be there, as well. Some of the undecided will slide, and more likely they will slide to the wilder and more exciting fringe candidate. As may the libertarians.

Eyewear predicts that Trump will just about manage to win th…

DANGER, MAN

Like a crazed killer clown, whether we are thrilled, horrified, shocked, or angered (or all of these) by Donald Trump, we cannot claim to be rid of him just yet. He bestrides the world stage like a silverback gorilla (according to one British thug), or a bad analogy, but he is there, a figure, no longer of fun, but grave concern.

There has long been a history of misogynistic behaviour in American gangster culture - one thinks of the grapefruit in the face in The Public Enemy, or Sinatra throwing a woman out of his hotel room and later commenting he didn't realise there was a pool below to break her fall, or the polluted womb in Pacino'sScarface... and of course, some gangsta rap is also sexist.  American culture has a difficult way with handling the combined aspects of male power, and male privilege, that, especially in heteronormative capitalist enclaves, where money/pussy both become grabbable, reified objects and objectives (The Wolf of Wall Street for instance), an ugly fus…

OSCAR SMOSHCAR

The Oscars - Academy Awards officially - were once huge cultural events - in 1975, Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr, Shirley MacLaineandBob Hope co-hosted, for example - and Best Picture noms included The Conversation and Chinatown. Godfather Part 2 won. Last two years, movies titled Birdman and Spotlight won, and the hosts and those films are retrospectively minor, trifling. This year, some important, resonant films are up for consideration - including Hidden Figures and Moonlight, two favourites of this blog. Viola Davis and Denzel Washington will hopefully win for their sterling performances in Fences. However, La La Land - the most superficial and empty Best Picture contender since Gigi in 1959 (which beat Vertigo) - could smite all comers, and render this year's awards historically trivial, even idiotic.

The Oscars often opt for safe, optimistic films, or safe, pessimistic films, that are usually about white men (less often, white women) finding their path to doing the right thin…