PJ Harvey - I Inside The Old Year Dying Review

Harvey’s first new album since 2016’s The Hope Six Demolition Project, might not sound like anything she’s released before but it also plays like a spiritual successor to Slint’s Spiderland.


The story goes that back in the early nineties, influential math-rock originators Slint received a letter from a pre-fame Polly Jean Harvey, responding to their open call for a lead singer. Unfortunately for Polly, the band had already disbanded by the time the letter landed on their doorstep. 


As it happens, Slint’s loss was our gain and PJ Harvey has since become one of Britain's most well-renowned and eulogised recording artists. However, much of Harvey’s early work was heavily influenced by Slint’s distorted feedback-laden guitars and eerie vocals, particularly on their seminal album Spiderland. Harvey’s second album Rid of Me would even utilise the expertise of Steve Albini who had previously worked with the Kentucky four-piece on their debut album. Listen to Rid Of Me’s ‘Missed’ if you want a glimpse of what might have been had that letter arrived a little earlier. 


Over the years Harvey’s work has veered away from those early punk-rock inclinations and has instead moved towards softer, more traditional folk and blues influences. Which is no bad thing, the latter half of her career has seen Harvey release some of her finest work.  


The reason I mention all of this is because I Inside The Old Year Dying, Harvey’s first new album since 2016’s The Hope Six Demolition Project, might not sound like anything she’s released before but it also plays like a spiritual successor to Slint’s Spiderland. The heavy feedback-laden guitars might be absent (mostly) but the album still plugs into Slint’s dark fable’esque storytelling more than anything she’s done before.


That’s largely due to the album stemming from Harvey’s own epic poem, the critically acclaimed Orlam. Orlam is a coming-of-age surrealistic folktale which takes place in and around a farmhouse, deep within a Dorset landscape. It tells the story of nine-year-old Ira-Abel, who effectively acts as Harvey’s childhood avatar, albeit never overtly.


With I Inside The Old Year Dying Harvey has managed to capture the poem’s sense of mysticism and foreboding, deconstructing it before recreating it here in musical form. First track Prayer At The Gate unfurls slowly before leading us by the hand through the rolling fog and misty forests of Harvey’s Brigadoon. “So look behind, look before. Life knocking at death's door.” Harvey implores us whilst a cyclone of sparse, ambient instrumentation swirls around her. It’s a fitting introduction to this strange otherworld and sets the tone perfectly for the rest of the album. 


The album’s influences are vast, with shades of Kate Bush, Patti Smith and a post Kid A Radiohead heard throughout. Elvis even makes an appearance, in the guise of Orlam’s Wyman-Elvis, the ghost of a soldier. The King of Rock and Roll’s influence is also evident in the song Lwonesome Tonight and in the delicate refrain “Love me tender”, which is repeated throughout the album. Elvis has featured in Harvey’s work before. In 2000 she donned an Elvis-inspired white suit, complete with exaggerated tassels, for her Is This Love video. However, times have moved on, here Elvis is no longer jumpsuits, rhinestones and a curled upper lip, he is now the ghost of a ghost, a whispering portent of doom. We're not in Kansas (or Memphis) anymore.


This dichotomy of old and new is at the heart of this album. The songs are achingly intimate but at the same, they don’t want you to get too close. Harvey sings in a mostly forgotten Dorset vernacular whilst doing her best to evade anything that resembles her signature timbre. Thankfully, this isn’t as off-putting as it might sound. The songs here are far too good to push you away, each one of them demanding further inspection. And like all great albums, the rewards become more abundant the longer you spend in its presence. 


“Slip from my childhood skin, I zing through the forest, I hover in the holway and laugh into the leaves.” Harvey sings on the title track as unknown instruments creak and pulsing drums march us into battle. There’s an unnerving presence that stalks every nook and cranny of I Inside The Old Year Dying. It’s an album driven by horror movie tension but musically is about as lush and alluring as you can get. 


Final track A Noiseless Noise reminds us that Harvey still knows how to harness guitar feedback when the moment calls for it. Jangling guitars and a fluttering snare propel the song into oblivion before Harvey is left by herself and the album moves delicately to its conclusion. 


I Inside the Old Year Dying sees PJ Harvey at her most intimate and yet also her most elusive. She’s an artist who’s renowned for her privacy, yet here we are invited to join her as she explores her hometown and revisits her childhood, albeit through the gaze of an imagined protagonist. 


It’s testament to Harvey as an artist that I Inside the Old Year Dying always remains intriguing, even at its most challenging and although it might not be her most accessible album, it’s certainly one of her most captivating.