How much would you entrust to a person who has been able to write the kind of song with which you’ve spent hours upon lonely hours? What would you let an artist who has hypnotised you with their works get away with? For most people, those who depend on talented, creative types to draw the outlines of their dreams, the answer is simple. They’ll just throw up their hands and shout: “Give them anything they want!”
But don’t get things confused. Before you run over to the pawn shop and stick strings on a battered old guitar, know that not everyone can be Mesmer to a gullible Habsburg. Audiences who can provide that kind of commitment are special and deserve an artist who is just as extraordinary.
Elly Hopkins wants to be that kind of artist! And, judging by the brief collection of songs found on the new release, “Animal,” all that the singer and songwriter needs is an audience to treasure her enough to give her everything that she wants.
Still, it’ll be a fair trade. Hopkins’ style of storytelling, and the way she has learned to blend American country and blues sounds with her resonant, dramatic singing, can be the one-stop destination for musical fanatics seeking a clear focus for a new musical obsession.
Just take a listen to the opening track, the Dylanesque “Cecile,” in which Hopkins paints a clear picture of a woman whose life is dedicated to seeking thrills and capturing adulation. Note how the singing fits those rocked-out 1950s-ballad chords brilliantly!
On the title track, Hopkins’ backing band cleverly leaves gaps, shifting from weighty alt-rock sounds to uncomfortable silences, and allows the singer to deliver powerful poetry about the human condition. This is also the song on which the singer allows herself the most amount of vulnerability, losing herself in the material and creating a trance-inducing blues-rock ceremony.
The grip doesn’t loosen for “Kintsugi,” a country-tinged alt-rocker about seductive, unavoidable love affairs. The sound of the track brings to mind the Lilithfair group of artists. Indeed, it features a similar kind of mix of vulnerability and confidence.
And, “Bets,” where Hopkins exercises her convincing Americana twang, is such a lovely travelogue that were the artist to try and convince admirers to follow her to the desert and start a new community in which she’d take centre stage each evening, surely, she’d have some success with that idea.
Where does it all leave us? On the playful “One Man Band,” Hopkins lets her guard down for a second, giving listeners a glimpse of why she’s running so far away and what she’s running for. But by this stage, if you’ve been listening closely, you’re in the passenger seat and you’re not asking any questions.
