This is the kind of music that can make you nostalgic for memories you’ve never had, and evoke feelings that you wouldn’t be able to identify until you hear them reflected back to you. In short, Julia Jacklin is truly spectacular. The Australian singer/songwriter has released two studio albums to date: Don’t Let The Kids Win and Crushing, and while both are equally top tier, for now I’m going to focus on the former --- her 2016 debut.
Don’t Let The Kids Win certainly doesn’t seem like a debut album; it plays through like the work of a sophisticated artist who’s been polishing her craft for years. Jacklin’s is one of those unique, genre-defying styles that is hard to pin down --- a bit of indie-folk, a bit of pop, a bit of alt-rock, even a bit of country (at least guitar riff-wise). But whatever it is, it’s sublime.
Crowning it all is the singer’s outstanding voice --- and I don't need to think long and hard to classify hers as one of my favourite voices of music to listen to. It's somehow both earthy and ethereal, sweet and soft but still impassioned and empowered. A few more adjectives: her lyrics are sharp, vulnerable, heart-wrenching, and witty --- but regardless, she could sing completely nonsense and it would probably still sound divine.
To top, she's mastered the ability of expressing very specific stories and somehow still making them feel universally relatable. Her songs all seem to have a vintage coating, making it the rare kind of music that sounds completely familiar but also like nothing you’ve heard before.
Opening track Pool Party shows this off perfectly. There’s such a feminine elegance to this song and its defining sway, undoubtedly one of the peaks of the album. (Not a bad way to start things off.) The carefree image of a pool party contrasts the song’s heavy subject, as Jacklin dolefully sings about a lover’s drug abuse – “I want to give you all of my love / but I watch you sink as they swam above”. She once said that this song is “about wanting someone in your life to get help if not for themselves then for you."
The record has a few other tracks that center in on the end of a relationship. One is Leadlight, which does so with a completely different vibrant and feathery energy. This is by far my favourite song of hers to sway to, starting as a mellow groove and developing into a grandiose performance. Everything culminates in the last 40 seconds when rich choral vocals join in to fill the background. There’s something so liberating about singing about a love lost with such carefree buoyancy --- “I cost more than you earn”, “I can’t promise I’ll be here to see this whole love through”.
LA Dream is the complete opposite. Listen to this one only if you’re in the mood to fall apart. Even the opening lines are crushing – “Why’d you go to the grocery store on the day you planned to leave / you left me here with all this food my body does not need” --- again, so specific yet universal. She puts you exactly in her shoes so that you go through the emotions by her side. This song voices the immediate period of bewilderment at the beginning of heartbreak, and capturing that tension so piercingly is the way the vulnerable softness of Jacklin’s voice contrasts with the edgy, grinding riffs of her guitar.
I go through phases of favourites on this album (so many goodies to choose from) and Motherland is currently in the spotlight. I think of it as an empathetic hymn for all of us 20-somethings trying to find our way. The song has such a powerful tone of sincere uncertainty, wondering in the chorus, “oh I’m good / I think I’m good / will I be great?” – a sweet nod to the existential wonderings of your youth. Then there’s a line from the third verse that always strikes a chord with me: “Why did you write the words so small / did you fool me, are they words at all?” Interpret as you will, but at this point in my life I hear it as being about trying to make sense of the cryptic ways of the world. Overall this song just provides a bit of comfort – and that’s always a nice feeling to have.
Coming of Age shows Jacklin's grungier rock side. The song's sentiment is great – “didn’t see it coming / my coming of age” – but admittedly I find the instruments muffle her voice too much. In opposite style, Elizabeth and Sweet Step strip things back and swap her electric guitar in for an acoustic one.
For a Jacklin-style build-up at its best, turn to the album’s penultimate track Hay Plain. She wrote it while driving and watching the golden sun setting over the Hay Plains surrounding, a context reflected in both the lyrics and composition. Her stream-of-consciousness verses seem fitting for the kind of random introspection that comes with long solo drives, and the constant forward-moving energy of the music perfectly captures the feeling of open road.
Finally we come to the stunning closing title track, Don’t Let The Kids Win. If any song on the album will bring you to tears, it'll probably be this. (As you can probably tell by how dramatically I talk about music, I'm also an unashamed crier.) The lyrics start off unassumingly until they creep up and hit you where it hurts --- seriously, this song is like a building knot in your throat. It’s about family, life, loss, lessons learned, and really whatever you personally hear in it. If the album had a thematic takeaway, it would likely come from the chorus of this closer: “I’ve got a feeling that this won’t ever change / We’re gonna keep on getting older / It’s gonna keep on feeling strange.”
What I love most about this album is the juxtaposition of its being filled with the wisdom of a long life lived, but told with the curious uncertainty of a woman going through the messiness of young adulthood.
Happy listening! :)
Comments