Julia Holter - Something in the Room She Moves Review
Holter’s new electric astral melody explodes into a violin and flute supernova.
With nautical sounding orchestral tones and hypnotizing lyricism, Julia Holter returns to us with yet another cosmic leapfrog into a world of her own creation. More than having proven herself with her incredible and vast array of past success from modern composition to movie soundtracks, Holter charms her way back into the ears of lovers and listeners with an elegance that many have come to expect from the artist. The title of this album of course draws from George Harrison’s song ‘Something’; you can rest assured that an equal amount of soul-stirring is found within this album. Though they sonically divert from one another, both are for lovers alike.
Holter’s opening song ‘Sun Girl’, true to its title, is bold and rhythmic in its summer sway. The high pitched explosive flute that strains its way onto the track plays around with the order of the melody, separating it into two sides: one flighty and sweet, a kind playful introduction, the other deep and pensive as if it were the true entry point to the darker tunes developed further in the album. The steep bass notes work to compliment the immensely long but sparse drum beats which, along with the background synths, lay down an astral motif, feeling like you’ve been suspended in the air far above the clouds.
The charm of this track is followed by ‘These Morning’, lingering on a distant reverberating saxophone, providing an almost fantastical, mystical element. The twangs of downturned bass notes are akin to thick and chewy, velvet melted liquorish. Notes leave deeper maroon and purple brush strokes across your mind practically conjuring synesthesia. This feeling is echoed in her title track, powerful lyrics accompanied by an even more powerful backing track reminiscent of a dark funk with Curtis Mayfield flute and electric jolts to invigorate its sound.
Two tracks are monumental to the sound of this album, ‘Meyou’ and ‘Ocean’, both of which display their titan-like opulence though their ambient nature. The former, an elegant siren song or cultic chant that ushers in the second half of this release, can be likened to the haunting sound of wildlife or of wind blowing through the trees of the deep deep forest late at night. The latter, ‘Ocean’, is a beautiful contrast. Invoking the image of becoming lost at sea, as the track progresses instruments are added, slowly becoming disturbed, disjointed and unsymmetrical. As higher pitches are paired with the long flute notes, you may begin to sense yourself more adrift in orbit than on the open ocean. Electronic zigzags are met and replaced with a rhythmic violin. Slower flute pitches set the listener back down to earth to continue through Julia’s work, confirmed by her following track ‘Evening Mood’, which picks back up the earlier summertime quality and sensitivity.
Her final track ‘Who Brings Me’ is far less lyrically and musically erratic but instead a lush and calming goodbye echoing sonically the sound of waves on a seashore. This song is a culmination of the tonal progression built throughout the entire album, resulting in an intimate send-off in the shape of a lullaby. Finalising the track with a bumblebee like violin, Julia perfectly delivers a heartfelt and very real love letter to her audience.
This album is a total rejuvenation of a sound that any lover of music is sure to cherish. Threading the needle between occasional intense jazz-inspired instrumentals, picturesque lyrics of adoration, and sonic themes of devotion, every track on this release feels deliberately placed. A natural continuation of her work dating back over a decade, Julia truly obliterates the mundane in this album and teleports her listeners to something or somewhere utterly otherworldly.