- Thu, 2010-03-18 16:18
There is a subtle but significant difference between the atmosphere of Laura Marling’s debut album, Alas I Cannot Swim, and her new offering I Speak Because I Can. At first it’s hard to put a finger on precisely what it is that has changed, and many a lazy commentator will inevitably chalk it down to that concept so often appealed to, ‘maturity’, and leave it at that. But to do so would be a great injustice to Marling. Alas I Cannot Swim was one of the finest albums not only of 2008, but of the new generation of folk artists as a whole. Immature it was not.
What, then, is different here? The first thing that strikes one as the opening bars of Devil’s Spoke cascade out of the speakers is Marling’s voice. It never lacked confidence before, but now it sounds positively commanding. So too is the frontier rattle of her guitar as it duels with a twanging banjo. One feels pulled along at break-neck speed, unable to resist. But then we are dropped just as suddenly as we were whipped up, our bruises soothed by the lilting lullaby Made By Maid. Marling’s voice regains the soft tenderness that lent songs on Alas I Cannot Swim such as Shine their beguiling charm. Next up, Rambling Man turns the heat up once more, albeit not so high as it was on Devil’s Spoke. It’s just the kind of gentle yet energetic folk tune that we expect of Marling, but, once again, there’s an indefinable new element to its character that refuses to be pinned down.
The inclusion of Blackberry Stone serves to shed some light on the matter. Originally a B-Side to the single Cross your Fingers, it has been re-recorded and revamped. There is an air of serenity on the new version that is lacking on its predecessor, and it belies a greater degree of self-possession than is on display in Marling’s previous work. Alpha Shallows follows and confirms this suspicion. It too started life as a B-Side, on the Night Terror EP, and the startling difference between the versions resides this time in the use of orchestration. Plucked strings and clacking percussion turn the central guitar refrain into a Castilian funeral march, while a choir of voices build to a powerful crescendo. Crucially though, the added instrumentation doesn’t overwhelm the song at its core, but simply embellishes the elements already present. While on her first album Marling’s guitar was frequently subordinated to the orchestra’s arrangements, here the extra voices act simply as the song’s clothing, rather than the body itself.
This remains the case as things proceed. On the album's first single, Goodbye England (Covered In Snow), strings swell and drop away as Marling bears her soul to us, then cellos growl and piano chords ring out on the ominous No Hope In The Air. What He Wrote is naked of accompaniment but for the soft hums of a distant choir, while penultimate track Darkness Descends bounds along over a deftly strummed guitar and a chorus of wind instruments.
It’s the closing track of the album that gives it its title, and offers the last piece of the puzzle. Just under a minute in, Marling sings the words “I speak because I can to anyone I trust enough to listen,” and suddenly the answer has been staring us in the face all along. While Alas I Cannot Swim was a tentative confession overheard, I Speak Because I Can is a secret told with confidence. The strength of voice, the orchestra’s subsidiary role and Marling’s serene composure are all the result of a new-found self-assuredness. She speaks because she can, and no longer because she feels compelled to do so.
