Amelia Coburn - Between The Moon and The Milkman Review
Amelia Coburn’s debut album is somewhere between an old-Mediterranean seaside town and folksy Appalachia.
A finalist of the BBC Folk Awards, Coburn pierces the scene with as much whimsy as expected. Dashing through her album we follow her stories beat-by-beat from escapades down the Seine, sailing through deep uncharted waters, to jaunts up the streets of Dublin with lovers in tow. Seemingly inspired by her own strong feelings of old-world esotericism and delivered with a distinct, harmonic, and deceptively powerful voice: Amelia can lull you to sleep just as fast as transport you to a seaside getaway.
‘When the Tide Rolls In’ as an opening number delivers, bewitching you with those storybook vocals and Appalachian style melodies. An introduction to this fairytale soundscape that conjures images to the mind of green and rolling fields, possibly inspired by Amelia’s North East adolescence. Setting the scene for her listener, Coburn follows through with a naturally sweet playground lullaby that reminds one of the chord progressions and the vocal swing of bands like Elbow. Thematically, sentimentally and lyrically invoking homesickness and longing, her tracks ‘Nodding Dog’ and ‘Please Go Gently’ follow these feelings and bloom into a vivid mediterranean escape.
Whilst of course an album based in folksy nostalgia, Coburn risks a track falling too far from the category of alt-folk to almost country on the track ‘Sleepy Town’, jumping into the album with a seismic shake. Finding itself entrenched in a more mainstream sound, it separates itself from that well developed essence heard in her previous five songs. However jingly the tune, it almost redeems itself in Amelia’s vocal range and lyrics which slightly soften the bendy electric-guitar solo. However, the piece has surprisingly been met with general critical acclaim, possibly due to it drawing musical inspiration from The Velvet Underground & Nico…
Coburn’s previously released track ‘See Saw’ also finds its way on to this release, and perfectly too. Returning her listener carefully back, nestling into an Alice-in-Wonderland waltz with clockwork vocals. Further in, background instruments explode and deliver an injection of circus-like Soviet twangs (and possibly a vibraphone?) with haunting lyrics that sing a song of “witchcraft and heresy”. Even its title invokes the sensation of sonic waves rocking you back and forth, twirling and pirouetting with an easy grace like a child to an old music box. Its vivid character is enough to enchant any first time listener.
‘Oh Captain Guide Me Home’ is this album’s most notable standout by a mile. Coburn’s tonal range is on full display here, letting her voice ring through like a chant calling for her captain to get her back on solid ground. Spanish-esq guitar and almost Irish sounding opening vocals that blossom into Coburn’s unique delivery secure this track as exceptional. Her fluttering voice is close to a siren-song, summoning up an echo-y, almost sea shanty cheer. Once again promoting lyrically the notion of being far from home, this track differs from that narrative, putting us in the position of following Coburn in transit, as if we were being whisked away on her journey through the album to calmer musical waters.
Amelia Coburn has been defined as “beautifully mad” by her producer Ryder-Jones, and having listened to her occult sound, you may see where he’s coming from. It’s hard not to say that this album wouldn’t be tremendously more popular than it currently is if the days of twee were still upon us, which is a shame.
Between The Moon and The Milkman is an ode to sentimental folksy storytelling, well matched with Coburn’s cut-by-diamonds sharp voice. Overall, this is a strong first album, though at times Coburn comes across as an artist still finding her groove. It’s a fine addition to anyone’s collection and, as someone that was never taken in by the genre, trust this: it can and will win you over.