Not only did Poppy Ackroyd have to contend with Covid around the writing of her fourth album, but the birth of her first child also coincided with the process. As you can perhaps imagine, on the strength of that, the album runs through a full range of emotions from thrill and ebullience to concern and introspection.
The sheer joyful exuberance of opener “Seedling” is infectious; the cascades of notes that rush headlong into a clear, bright day being a delight that makes the tightly played and wistful melodies rush past you in a blur. The other side of the coin is the more measured aftermath of realisation that is “Suspended”. The title says a lot and the harpsichord-like treatment has a starkness in its precision.
The heavy weight of responsibility and thoughtful minor key motifs evoke a need to take stock and see where the future might lie. These differing moods are played out across the album, with the sheer delight of the tumbling “Murmurations” finding Poppy’s right hand flying free while the left is grounded, trying to keep a lid on the unfolding story.
There are comparisons made to the likes of Nils Frahm and Max Richter, but somehow Poppy brings a versatility and a humanity to the pieces that really make them stand out. It’s funny, there is something in the intensity of “Impulse” that reminded me of early Waterboys, that reckless flight down stone steps into whatever fray may be waiting.
“Stillness” feels like the dawn of something magical, the precision and clarity leaving the notes sparkling like dew, while the closer “Unravel” is so intimate you can hear the body of the piano, the sensation of being gently touched transferring itself to the listener. All in all Pause is a delight, and considering the circumstances a great success. Get tucked up somewhere comfy and let it unfold.-Mr Olivetti-
