Lime Garden - One More Thing Review
One More Thing is a fresh, versatile and funky debut album that won’t be forgotten any time soon.
Brighton-based four-piece Lime Garden have been putting in the work since their emergence in 2021. Having supported big names like IDLES, The Big Moon and Yard Act, and supporting Bombay Bicycle Club on a chunky leg of their 2024 UK tour, it’s finally their turn in the spotlight. Their debut album One More Thing released on 16th February with So Young records sees their self-defined ‘wonk pop’ stretch its fizzing fingers into folk, bedroom pop, electronic indie and even post-punk in what is a fresh, versatile and funky debut album that won’t be forgotten any time soon.
The start of the album is largely familiar to the listener; ‘Long Song’ is a furious electronic indie-rock anthem against traditional forms of artistic love-giving, ‘Mother’ is a gorgeous testament to blossoming mother-daughter relationships, ‘Nepotism (Baby)’ is a hilarious, catchy exploration of the rich and privileged with a great music video. Played first by Radio 6’s music legend Huw Stephens on Valentine’s Day, ‘Pop Star’ is a stand-out track on the album, pairing racing disco elasticity with down-to-earth exasperation: ‘I don’t wanna work my job, cuz life is fleeting and I’m a popstar’.
Marking a change from this introductory, inviting, and eclectic party, ‘Pine’ sits us down with sagacity; Annabel Whittle on drums adds character and stability, Leila Deeley’s lead guitar is romantic, and Howard’s vocals at points flirt with shoegaze, space-like and distant, whilst Tippi Morgan’s bass lurks like an unwelcome shadow beneath it all. Like all great writing, their instruments continue the conversation the lyrics begin. The mixing is incredible - unsurprising, considering this is produced by Ali Chant, responsible for PJ Harvey and Yard Act’s latest releases.
Lime Garden named this record after a Raymond Carver short story, heavy with themes of reliance, perspective, control, and conflict. Carver’s clipped style shows an alcoholic father character kicked out by his wife and daughter, turning at the door to add ‘one more thing’ - something that’ll presumably change the trajectory of his tragedy, reverse the damage. But the words don’t come. This human disillusionment is captured so beautifully by the moodier tracks on the album, specifically tracks ‘Pine’ and ‘Fears’. Like a volta, these tunes herald a change in tone for the second half of the album. ‘I Want To Be You’ has been brazenly popular on their Spotify since it came out in November, despite the unforgiving self-admissions and desperation: ‘I’m just delusional, is this a blip?’ and ‘I want to consume you, but where do I start?’. The rest of the album speaks like this - the cover art for this song is the close of up a mouth, whilst the album cover depicts two pairs of floating feet. In small, bite-size chunks we peel back the confused womanhood at the centre of this record, which slowly melts into an earnest, intricate and knowable offering.
It’s unfortunate that the track ‘Floor’ follows this. ‘You’re my ceiling, you’re my floor, I’ll put you in my top drawer’ Chloe Howard sings. If this is their attempt at bedroom-pop, it only half works. The repeated refrain in a distorted, telephone-like voice is sexy and slick, but the heavily-autotuned verses inspired by Caroline Polachek and Charli XCX only recall wonky, echoing karaoke renditions of disco ballads. The electronic fuzz in the background also sounds like a Bop-It toy gained consciousness.
Thankfully, we’re back to Lime Garden at their peak in ‘Fears’, poetically listing the intricacies of the panic and self-doubt symptomatic of imposter syndrome. Outside of the song, Howard expands on this: “As women, you put a shit tonne more pressure on yourselves because there's less of us in the industry – it’s not enough to just be good at what we do, we have to be the best.”
The ten-track album closes with two slow songs, ‘It’ and ‘Looking’. The first ushers us in with a sweeping cinematic vulnerability - ‘wipe my brow and focus in’. Despite this requisite to scrutiny, the pacing feels a little odd on the first few listens, like it sits on the ragged edge between grin and toothache. It’s a song that requires loosening before you can wear it snugly. ‘Looking’ is the perfect closing song for the album; we haven’t heard Lime Garden like this before. Acoustic guitar and folky vocals, with the perfect spritz of keys. We are back to the beauty of simplicity, of sharing music in the soft folds of nights with friends, candles, and conspiracy. Lime Garden leave us searching for something to fix the broken unspoken of chasing contentment and self-clarity. In this ontological pursuit we find only the slight indication that we should be looking for that one extra track, those few extra bars, that might change this record from great to perfect. It’s a bloody good attempt though.