JULIA JACKLIN - CRUSHING

From the opener Body, an achingly sad piece sets the tone for the album with Julia reflecting on the woman she is and was. A betrayal of self through the hands on another and detailing how a flourishing relationship can fade into a pain that is mediated by the blackmail of past intimacies.

There is a strong alt country vein running throughout the album as with Head Alone. The breathy vocals are shy, mirroring the sentiment about too much physical contact that isn’t welcomed or needed.

The rattle and shake of Pressure To Party catalogues the desire to socialise, albeit an expected chore, and the accompanying awkwardness and humiliation that comes with. Explored with an upbeat tempo contrary to the enjoyment of diminishing returns.

Sombre and brutally honest, Don’t Know How To Keep Loving You is lyricism at its finest. Almost taboo in its reality; the perfectly reasonable question to ask of a relationship that has had its dynamic altered. Fuzzed out guitars circle the edge of the track like sonic fraying of a love that is beginning to come away from its solid core.

It is Julia’s ability to musically paint a picture that is so captivating. The barely auditable creaking of footsteps on a wooden floor is the background to a foreboding piano accompaniment of imminent mortality on When The Family Flies In. Like all shattering moments in life they occur at the most random of moments and in the most random of places such as in the front seat of Julia’s Corolla. A stunningly simple and beautiful piece for something so disturbing and life changing.

The solitary Convention is little more than quiet acoustic picking with gentle harmonies but yet another showcase of Julia’s pure vocals. The slow precession of Good Guy meanders between wanting what you know will hurt you and that of resistance. The declining sound has but one momentary peak as if to highlight that the joy that is being craved is as fleeting as it was expected to be.

The brightly vibrant You Were Right sees the full band hit their straps and unleash a little of what had been lurking throughout the record till now. A punchy track that like all the others that preceded it, features the cynicism which is routinely delivered with a saccharine sweet slap.

A wobbly Turn Me Down is another tale of uncertainty. The barrier Julia is protectively putting in place to save an almost guaranteed pain is a cry that crescendos with an angered uncontrollability of frustration. Punctuated with timely pauses and patches of nothing, a craftsman like approach is quality production for all to hear.

Rounding off the record is Comfort. An agonising account of what it is like to break up with someone and see them move on. All the steps involved with departing an emotional bond with each step radiating wider and further from the loving core to the fringes of forgetting altogether. So eloquently detailed, a relatable pain that features again and again on Crushing.