BACK IN TIME: If you’ve never heard Alessi Laurent-Marke’s music, the first thing you’ll notice about her four-track EP, “Soul Proprietor”, is her voice. Strangely for a West Londoner, it’s a near twangy flutter, distinctively high-pitched like a child, but infused with a dusty jazz-folk antiquity and world weariness. Her music has a pretty thrift-shop aesthetic, much like the album cover featuring a salesman with his early 20th-century goods. The songs are filled with countrified guitar, sweet melodies and a writing style that gives off the sense of someone who knows a thing or two about love.
The second thing you’ll notice is the immediacy of the first track, “The Robot”, jumping abruptly into the song and vocals without an intro. But soon enough the song soothes with a surprising Southern old-soul sway. It’s a warm tune, built around playful lyricism about a relationship: “And he likes clean bedding / Doesn’t care for Otis Redding / Doesn’t like being at the dock of the bay / Wish his girlfriend would stay.” Essentially, these four tracks from Alessi’s Ark are a hue of Americana, but it’s Laurent-Marke’s mature lyricism and skillful vocal phrasing that gives them their uncommon coloring. It’s verses like, “And he likes his violin / His forty years made of tin” or “But you smile, and it was lovely” that bloom with unforced elegance. The latter is a simple phrase, unadorned but weighted with palpable sentiment. You can almost see a lover’s slow smile forming, in the mind’s eye, as the lyric is sung.
It’s a gift when your music can create moods listeners feel they could pour their own loves and hurts into. “Shovelling” is a track about not taking any more shit. It’s a theme heard in many country songs. But Laurent-Marke moves away from convention and offers this piece of gracefulness, deceptively simple in its observation but complex in its meaning, “And the saddest part of cryin’ / Is the tears don’t even stay.” One of the most appealing things about this record is how easy Laurent-Marke makes it all seem. All the subtleties, her odd diction, the intricate timing, the inflections, and the elongated syllables that slide into the ear like a warm liquid. The harp and banjo on “Bird Song” are squeezed out, giving the song a magical fragility like a straining old music box. But everyone should own this record for “Dancing Feet”, a romantic ballad enchanting with steamy steel guitar and a delicate duet that begins with this line: “You should know by now / That I care for you.” The song rises and falls with hard interspersed drumming, and soaring guitar that dims as the tone goes soft. Note: Photo for album taken by Rebecca Miller. “Soul Proprietor” is available digitally October 19th via Bella Union. — David D. Robbins Jr.
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