Album Review: Aldous Harding - Designer
New Zealand singer/songwriter Aldous Harding does not make music to be understood, in the way that many folk artists often spell out their meanings plainly in an attempt to either convey specific emotions or experiences, or else to create something a little more digestible. Harding's entire ethos seems to be one of mystery and ambiguity that reveals itself in her cryptic lyrics, peculiar vocal style, and ear for offbeat instrumentals, all talents tangentially present on her self-titled 2016 debut but fleshed out and strengthened on her 2017 album Party. Designer, however, is largely a regression back to the acoustic nature of her first effort, albeit with a smooth, refined edge to her singing that is at once impressive and yet less interesting overall. That she has come so far from humble beginnings is admirable, but on her most polished work yet, Harding's endearing anomalies have all but disappeared, leaving barely more than an average folk album in their place.
Catchy singles like The Barrel and opener Fixture Picture are little more than just that: amusing distractions that would perhaps be charming juxtaposed against more adventurous cuts, but in a sea of similarly bland indie folk, only serve to demonstrate how low Harding is setting the bar for herself. Not that they are without merit; the former in particular is a dense blend of guitar, piano, and reed intonations, providing an effective backdrop for vague quips like "You shook at the ivory mantle/As a poet, I knew how to be gentle". The title track is comparably enjoyable, its odd cadence and whimsical theme giving ample room for the listener to relax and attempt to parse every bon mot littered within Harding's verses (choice example: "Tears water the flowers of need/And you bend my day at the knee").
As a whole, while Harding's singing demonstrates noticeable improvement over her previous projects, many of the idiosyncrasies that made Party such a unique listen have faded, leaving a barely distinctive indie folk croon in their place. To Designer's credit, the shrill, raspy vocals that likely turn many people off of her past work are largely ironed out, yet it was in these emotive, faltering moments of vulnerability that she produced much of her most compelling art. The closest her voice comes to its previous endearing aberrance is the acoustic ballad Heaven is Empty, its wavering lilt a fitting vehicle for uncertain lyrics about a lack of belief in the afterlife: "People ask me all the time what I want/The answer is one/Heaven is empty".
Harding's lyrical whimsy, still reasonably employed, is often not enough to save the record's lower moments; despite the entertaining uncertainty of what exactly Zoo Eyes refers to, the song's sluggish aura and dour vocals render it a lethargic bore, even if the flutes and saxophones spliced in throughout are somewhat amusing. Her blatantly tender, almost kitschy lilt on Weight of the Planets is a worthy complement to the track's plucked instrumental, disgusting quirky and, ironically, far too light and leisurely to leave any impression. The occasional substitution of stripped-back guitar dirges for minimalist piano elegies is far from enough to grant the album a sense of variety, though they do at least showcase Harding's talents a tad more effectively.
Damn, the longest cut here, is one such breath of fresh air, the melodic progression of its outwardly simple piano line giving the song a level of intrigue unmatched by anything else here. Simultaneously, Harding recovers her distinct talent for intricate, obtuse lines, musing about the passage of time ("The old, it bickers with the fresh/When I'm standing with by brush in the emptiness") and the feeling of being trapped ("When you jump up and down/The chains almost sound like a tambourine"), though the true intentions of her words can only be guessed at. Conversely, the unimpressive repetition of piano chords on album closer Pilot is too cheerful to create any real tension, though the track's real hindrance is Harding's lyrics, which first reference Camus and absurdism only to diverge on a pointless tangent about her anxiety surrounding, of all things, getting a tattoo.
As fresh of an approach that Aldous Harding possessed on her previous projects, Designer is ultimately a disappointingly conventional indie folk album, the barest hint of clever piano melodies its only instrumental asset. What saves it from any sentence worse than 'average' is Harding's writing flair, a talent that has continued to serve her well even as her voice transitions from raw and undeveloped to refined and demure. For those unaccustomed to her previous work, this album is more than a worthy starting point to what is hopefully a prosperous career, but as a sequel to as creative a record as Party, it falls regrettably short.
6.5/10
Favourite Tracks: Designer, The Barrel, Damn