Review Summary: Proof that my life has been 21 years of emotional banality. Thankfully.
I first came across Fenne Lily opening for Hurray For The Riff Raff at her stunning London set last October. There was an interesting discrepancy between the two artists, eluded to by an unabashedly modest Lily, saying that the band “actually has something to say”. However, the biggest difference was with the starkness of the performances. Lily, performing solo with a single spotlight set on her, provided a set that was in equal parts fiercely introverted, yet deceptively open.
Even with the added studio production, Lily’s debut record On Hold still retains the stripped back feel, with her plucked electric guitar harmonies, ubiquitous throughout the record, providing stark clarity, as compared to her live set. The real, painful beauty of the record, though, appears through her deep, whispered vocal delivery, comparable to the likes of Susanne Sundfor and Julie Byrne. At points, the songs do seem to be lacking in production depth, with tracks such as opener ‘Car Park’ and ‘What’s Good’ hinting at euphoric moments, only to filter out somewhat anticlimactically, though there is an indication that full realisation of this element would detract from the necessary focus on Lily’s lyrics.
On Hold is filled to the brim with the vulnerability and heartbreak akin to Julien Baker’s ‘Turn Out The Lights’ or Lorde’s ‘Liability’. Whether it be perceived inadequacy in the face of a love interest on ‘Three Oh Nine’ (“It’s a pain I need/It’s too good to be”), or some everlasting guilt over the childish mistreatment of a younger sibling on ‘Brother’ (“Did you ever think to question this game?”), Lily articulates her emotional complexity with sensitivity and nuance.
I hesitate to use the term “wise beyond her years”, lest it be attributed to every singer-songwriter under the age of 30, but this lyricism makes Lily impossible to ignore. This is conceptually epitomised in the album cover, where you can imagine some overpowering force to stare adulthood in the face pulling Lily away from the comforts of her childhood bedroom, where it is acceptable to sit and cry whilst brooding over John Green and Jeff Buckley. In a video released on Facebook prior to its release, Lily described the record as sounding like “the musical equivalent of hearing someone crying through a wall mixed with hearing someone having sex through a wall”; an intriguing description, but one that offers the listener a subtle peak inside Lily’s life.
At this point, it is difficult to view On Hold as anything more than a solid, albeit confident, debut record. Lily’s simple harmonies and sparse production, paired with a possible overuse of verse-chorus-verse, suggest that Lily is not attempting to reinvent the wheel on her debut. And that’s absolutely fine. However, what On Hold does show is that Lily has the poetry of the genre down to a tee. With the added production value, for which she is undoubtedly deserving, and the added confidence following the release of On Hold, we can be excited for some great offerings from Fenne Lily in the years to come.
