From a tiny spark bursts a mighty flame, and nestled inside the phosphorescent core is the glowing aura of alt-pop’s newest sensation.
With the process of growing up comes better understanding of your needs and values, but that comes at a cost. You start to see things for what they really are, and the sober reality is a catch 22 scenario that no carefully drawn flow diagram can get you out of, but given life’s capricious qualities; you can try, Low Girl definitely has.
Probing her own neuroticisms with fortitude and mettle, this ‘free from vanity’ persona is purposely understated, yet judging by the calibre of her portfolio premiere, it really shouldn’t be. ‘Big Now’ is a visionary adaptation to overcoming the weight of imperfection, and it vanquishes the stigma, kills the negative subcurrent with kindness and finally celebrates its presence. It’ll tickle your tastebuds and leave you pining for the whole smorgasbord, all the while spreading a rich coating of mystique over the accompanying side plates. With an inventory of instrumental choices spanning the fluttering lightness of a Japanese Koto to the mechanical synthesis of the vocoder, no expense has been spared in its construction; it feels good to be spoilt rotten.
Gently brushing away the rheum from its eyes, Dead Bird Song gracefully awakens the EP from its slumber, serenaded by the chirping cacocophy of the morning soundscape. It’s the perfect opener, teasing the remainder of the EP with glitchy breakbeat polyrhythms and reverb-soaked piano stabs that crawl across the walls. Blue hour music has never sounded so invigorating, conducted by the relentless metronomic precision that saunters into a thick crescendo, all the while Low Girl’s breathy delivery imparts with honeyed words of introspection, who knew the passing of a warm-blooded vertebrate could sound so irresistible?
“Apathy or nothing? I don’t know” – Big Now
As the flagship and lead single, ‘Big Now’ puts its gladrags on, picks up the baton of vigour, and runs for the hills. Lowgirl’s peevish narrative emphatically underlines the subversive nature of society, playfully delivering an eviction notice to a passivity that has slowly imbued into modern society. So you’ve got your crunchy percussion, soughing vocals and an oscillating synth that flickers like wind-bewildered leaves, what more could you want? How about a glimmer of 8-bit chiptune to stir the pot of nostalgia. Served as one of many dazzling stylistic choices on the record, the evocation of old-video games is a subtlety made with weight, I mean, it could signify the self-indulgently carefree culture of bureaucracy, but in any case, Low Girl has boldly called a press conference to tackle lethargy, and we’re required to shut up and listen.
Ensuing this, the Florence Welch inspired Lovable Maybe personally endorses the habituality of self-doubt in an albeit slightly ironic way. The sonic gumption and aura of self-assurance detract from the lyrical fragility, jumping head first into a cinematic chord progression that yawns with an euphoric grace and glitters with polynesian tinges from mellow brushes of nylon strings, Written as an open letter to herself, Low Girl searches for an illusive shred of confidence amongst the reeds, vocaly coated in a brittle distortion as to accentuate her sense of yearning.
Thankfully Low Girl refrains from kicking herself while she’s down, In the residual duo of Okay Someday and Sertraline, providing a subtle dose of placidity to counterbalance what is an otherwise overtly animated EP. The indie-folk nuances of the former breathes with a polite reassurance so as to zero in on the idea that where there is no struggle there is no strength. It’s safe to say the penultimate track loosens the jar on self confidence and Sertraline confidently opens it.
Despite harbouring their own hidden meanings and messages, this breathtaking quintette of tracks summarises an sole theme as it follows our protagonists struggles with OCD, as she explains:
The overwhelming presence of this disorder in my writing very much reflects my reality, except it feels like I get the final say in my songs. Sertraline takes back control of all the difficult intrusive thoughts and imagines a future where I am as unphased by the world as I was when I was a child. When it comes to the musical side of things, we treated each song as an individual. There is a uniqueness to each track on the EP that read like my diary entries, and as always, I hope people can connect to the songs and find comfort in the way that someone else feels the same.
Given the calibre of this seamless first showing, i’m embarrassed to admit that Low Girl had until now slipped through my musical net, but I couldn’t be happier that my attention has been allured towards this shining revelation of an EP. Big Now? Well it’s only a matter of time.