Review Summary: ...to package emotion
In all honesty, I was a little scared of diving into
To Learn. Canadian singer-songwriter Leith Ross’ debut album comes fresh off the back of TikTok success, and while the song in question (“We’ll Never Have Sex”) is a genuinely touching folk tune, I was afraid that this somewhat formless two-minute cut would function as a template for the full record. As Ross’ lyricism tends to focus on heavy topics of abuse and identity, an entire album of such small snapshots could have been detrimental to both its overall quality and emotional impact. Thankfully,
To Learn is in no rush to produce more viral moments, and instead focuses on conveying its frequently heartbreaking stories by whatever means feel right.
Any TikTok-induced scepticism is instantly washed away by the ambience that introduces album opener ‘5am’. It showcases that
To Learn comprises a patient affair, allowing the atmosphere to unfold before Ross’ whispery vocals detail a brief, nostalgic story. The song falls on the more abstract, Grouper-pilled side of the record’s spectrum - moments reserved for its more pensive and obscured corners. These abstractions make for some of Ross’ most poignant songwriting: the deceptively soothing ‘Ask First’ details the artist’s attempts at mentally letting go of their abuser, with its final minutes beautifully disintegrating the song’s framework and complementing its themes.
It is this knack for dynamics that define
To Learn’s very best moments, most prominently displayed in highlight “Guts”. In working through the trauma of assault, Ross finds themself pondering violence through quiet whispers and spiritually connecting to their abuser’s mother through sprawling indie rock. Each section complements the next, with the wonderfully apathetically uttered “
you wanted to say sorry / but I want to see your body in a ditch” making for one of 2023’s most unexpectedly heartbreaking moments. In a sense, it is genuinely therapeutic and euphoric, if understatedly so. As such, the uplifting imagined love story of “(You) On My Arm” is all the more impactful - even though it may comprise fantasy, the song functions as a wonderful reminder that there is optimism after assault.
When
To Learn is great, it’s fantastic. However, when it’s good, it’s
good: the more plain indie folk songs spread throughout the album are likeable, if not consistently memorable. Their small meditations on life are worth hearing, but ultimately end up feeling like they do not live up to Ross’ abilities as a songwriter. In spite of this, I have no doubt that whatever comes next for the artist will expand on their capabilities:
To Learn is an excellent, touching debut that opens all the right doors without compromising emotional weight.
