Review Summary: A spiritual journey into motherhood.
Natasha Khan’s surrealistic style of portraying story lines and characters, paired with the ‘80s inspired, synth heavy melodies and piano ballads have always shaped charming yet insular projects. From tender, daydreaming ditties to late night, haunting dirges, they all seemed tailor-made for her gorgeous, poignant voice. The further she ventured, more interesting the results turned out. Since the end of last decade, she focused mostly on her marriage and motherhood. The latter, especially, inspired this latest LP,
The Dream of Delphi. This is a record about and dedicated to her daughter, right from the moment of her inception to birth and early childhood. Moreover, it delves into the spiritual side too, offering glimpses of Natasha’s thoughts on key moments of her pregnancy, the necessary devotion as a mother, as well as future uncertainties. For example, the opening title track feels akin to a conjuring, set on a misty synthesizer lead and bass rhythm. The longing, fragile vocals float along the breezy sonic pads, until a drum beat takes over the slow burning coda. Another highlight is the melancholic “At Your Feet”, sharing a classic piano intro, followed by gospel-like croons and brooding low end notes, which segue into the equally beautiful instrumental extension, “The Midwives Have Left”.
Center piece “Home” is the poppiest number here, featuring a more danceable groove, but the delicate, midnight vibes remain just as present. Following it, there is a second stretch of ballads. “Breaking Up” is a laid back, lounge ambient cut with saxophone leads, whereas the contrasting “Waking Up” breathes new life through its choral vocals, springing synths and lush piano lines. Half of this 30-minute album consists of short instrumentals, leaving the listener to imagine several moments of Khan’s experiences solely from their titles and overall mood. It is clear
The Dream of Delphi is meant to be digested as a whole, however, it could have benefitted from more lyrical content for us to become truly immersed in its world. It is hard to offer insight on such a deeply introspective subject, but there is enough room left for her to embellish without taking away from the mystifying, lullaby-esque atmosphere. You can’t help but feel as if left halfway through a story to finish it by yourself. Perhaps that was the intention, but at least a couple of the remaining, fleshed out tunes would have been more complete with vocals. Despite being the shortest record in Natasha’s discography, it is also the most angular. Diversity is secondary to her vision and concept this time. It worked for the most part, yet as a whole,
The Dream of Delphi could have easily been a more comprehensive affair.
