Written by Marilù Ciabattoni
Discovered via Musosoup
Discovered via https://app.musosoup.com #sustainablecurator
I had the pleasure of reviewing Marlene Larsen’s homonymous leading single a while ago on Lost in the Manor, so I absolutely couldn’t miss her first EP by the title of Galore.
At first glance, Marlene’s music strikes you as grunge rock, sometimes pop rock, and her lyrics read as confessions of a teenage girl entering adulthood. Teenage angst is pretty much present throughout the album, brought to life by the acoustic guitar riffs, drums and bass.
“Birthday” is a nice little intro to the project, pretty much chaotic and all over the place: in a pity party moment, Marlene half-sings, half-screams “Here’s to a new year / And happy birthday to me.” Short, incisive and borderline passive-aggressive. I like it.
After this first shot of adrenaline, we get the more chill “I Said I’m Fine,” which continues along these teen angsty vibes. The track develops very slowly as Marlene enunciates every phrase clearly, going up and down with her voice: “Last night the best of friends gave me the worst of news / As my obsessive brain was full of the ghost of you.”
Slowly but surely, the track explodes into an orchestra of sounds as Marlene reveals what has been troubling her all along: “It’s about the missing part of my soul that you embodied.” She’s incomplete without her other half.
“Careful” also starts off pretty melodically, describing the details of a scene she cherishes very much (“My back against your car / And yours to the nosy neighbours”). This is more of a guitar-driven ballad, slightly more serene than the previous two tracks.
However, Marlene’s insecurity still comes out in the questions she asks, like “Does she ask about me / And do you hate me for it?” The instrumentals briefly become fuller before the song fades away into oblivion.
“Galore,” chosen as one of the leading singles from the EP, offers some much-needed sensuality and mystery as Marlene reflects on her identity. As I mentioned in my previous review, I love what the artist does with her vocals layered over each other, sometimes hushed, sometimes screamed out loud.
Particularly, the climax towards the end, when she sings “I won’t burn / I’ll just follow the fire” before halting almost completely, gives me goosebumps. Marlene knows how to dose her silences, alternating them to the more explosive bits. And this is what happens in the final track “Public Apology.”
It is a very brief song that sounds like a radio intermission. It starts with a spoken bit (maybe a poem? Or her public apology?) that is barely audible as the instrumental is so explosive.
A piano-driven interlude divides the song in half, as Marlene goes from talking to singing and as the lyrics read more like a prayer than a confession. While the spoken part ends with the like “I feel like I need to get cleaned,” she continues singing “Clean me of the bittersweet memories, of old friends becoming enemies.”
The album ends with both spoken and sung lyrics, the spoken lines sounding like they come from the other side of a phone: “There it is,” Marlene declares, defeated, “your public apology.”