The bridesmaid of the Mercury Awards (four nominations and counting), Laura Marling returns in tandem with her part-time collaborative partner Mike Lindsay of Tuung for their second outing as the charming moniker LUMP (in fairness, the name was provided by Marling’s five-year-old god-daughter) which is also their ‘mascot’, a furry hulking animal which appears on promotion etc.
Lindsay and Marling supposedly met on the bowling lanes at a Neil Young aftershow, with Lindsay promising to provide ‘strange, wonky music’ to which Marling could attach subconsciously obscure words and, while their first album was met with warm if not glowing reviews, it appears the pair felt there was much more left in the tank.
With an intent to offering an alternative to her usual confessional style, Marling adopts a more stream of consciousness approach; while the songstress should be lauded for a different attitude, it does unfortunately result in a mixed bag when it comes to musical enjoyment.
Sadly, the approach doesn’t stretch far enough to cover a whole album (let alone two). The title-track, also the lead single, is sombre and withdrawn with Marling’s vocals front and centre in the mix (as they are across the whole album) singing rhythmic, hypnotic lines against a propulsive structure. Marling’s opaque approach does feel like it veers into rhyming for the sake of it (‘big plants just like a slow trance/looked like a strange dance’) at points whilst being insightful at others.
Bloom At Night works most effectively (aided by being the opening track) as some swirling electronica fades in and out, supported by a mournful horn before Marling enters the fray.
As good as it is to hear her in different surroundings, amid bopping swollen bass, sadly the remainder of the album doesn’t hit the same heights, with a few exceptions.
The chunky Gamma Ray is both industrial and organic with layered vocals, although the melody is much more traditionally Marling. The muffled bass thump of Climb Every Wall echoes mid-period Metronomy, while the eerie futurism of We Cannot Resist, complete with phased guitar, is simple but elegant.
Paradise features a great wig-out at the end and some pertinent lyrics (‘you lived inside your telephone, a place you could be alone’), and Red Snakes is a stripped-back piano and vocal piece, with the vocals once again so prominent that what is intended to feel intimate feels over-bearing.
The folktronica style which has made Lindsay his name works as a whole, but over the course of the album the rounded bass and stretched percussion feels repetitive. Closer Phantom Limb is similarly drawn out although, like the first album, it does conclude with Marling reading out the album credits, adding to the effect of Animal being an experience from beginning to end.
Drawing heavily on psychoanalysis (Marling admitting she had recently ‘got into it’) for lyrics does emphasise the point that she’s an artist in the truest sense; master of her own craft but equally comfortable in other genres. However, like all great artists’ output, there are peaks and troughs and sadly Animal falls short in comparison to both Marling and Tuung’s other achievements.
Ultimately, despite the alternative sounds backing her, one’s appreciation of Animal (and the LUMP project as a whole) will be informed by how one feels about Laura Marling.
If you sit on the side of the debate which believes she has the voice of an angel (™), then there is likely much to appreciate. If her voice grates, as it does for some, and dreamy electronica isn’t your thing, it would be wise to look elsewhere.