Review Summary: She said she will never take off that cross.
I have always found great orators to be fascinating. Their ability to place the listener into different emotional states through the power of words alone always seemed unsettling to me. Growing up in a Pentecostal household, there was no greater orator than the preacher. Of course, the preacher was also assisted by having a vast emotional well to draw from. Whether you are religious or not, the story of the crucifixion of Christ is heavy subject matter. The sense of euphoria and fervent despair that can be experienced on a single Sunday morning is striking. The confusion that settles in when you start to question it all, even more so.
An intangible mist seems to float in the air when a great orator speaks to a mass of people. The emotion the speaker is conveying is amplified by each member in the audience, whether they vocalize it or not. The air is stained with their reverence. The preacher, like a conductor, speeds up and slows down to draw the listener deeper into the story. Like a well-trained orchestra, the audience brings those emphatic commands to a thunderous crescendo until the storm suddenly abates. Julia Jacklin exercises that same level of command, but the listener may not be captivated to the same degree.
The first track off PRE PLEASURE is somber. Apostacy carries conflicting emotions. The joy of liberation is stunted by a sense of loss. But what did you really lose? Something that you have now come to believe never existed in the first place? It doesn’t make much sense, but that realization seems to make it hurt more. "I'd be a believer, if it was all just song and Dance, I'd be a believer if I thought we had a chance." Instrumentally, there isn't much going on in this track throughout the first two-thirds. The soft, entrancing voice of Julia is in focus. The skill of a great orator is on display for all to hear. Her pulpit is not sitting on a step above eye level. It is brought low. "For he who hath ears to hear, let him hear."
There is a haunting quality on this record that is present in nearly every track. A sense of anxiety. The fear of change. Yet, there are glistening vapid fragments of beauty. This is perfectly exemplified in the third track, Ignore Tenderness. Initially, the track follows the same trodden path as the first two, but then a glimpse of sunlight comes through with beautiful strings and a heartwarming chorus that dances effortlessly as if the weight Julia has been carrying has been shrugged off. Unfortunately, this soundscape isn't further developed. Julia undoubtedly seeks to capture a lugubrious and despondent sound, and she accomplishes that to great effect. However, the musicianship often comes off as languid and void of any sense of urgency. With that being said, there is something to be noted about her utilization of restraint. Tracks like Moviegoer have interesting tempo arrangements that show Julia's keen grasp of rhythm and melody. I just wish it was a little less predictable.
Ultimately, PRE PLEASURE is an enjoyable record. The heavy subject matter is explored tactfully, and the emotional trauma is laid bare for all to see. Julia's voice is soothing, and the accompanying musical arrangement carries an attractive noire atmosphere. But there are not enough twists and turns to keep the album memorable outside its lyrical content. Although some of the gloomier tracks are well executed, Julia sounded much more enticing when she let a little more light in. If melancholy is what you are after, you will undoubtedly find it here. However, different shades of gray would have been appreciated.
