Melbourne artist Jess Ribeiro’s second album, Kill It Yourself, is a cracker. Produced by Mick Harvey, it’s profound, yet unpretentious; it’s beautiful, but painful too; it’s open, yet deeply intimate; it’s local and it’s global.
The opening track, The Wild, swells and soars, with Ribeiro’s vocals resembling those of Sharon Van Etten or PJ Harvey (the latter of whom has also had albums produced by the aforementioned Harvey) in their perfect potency and the way they seed intrigue. It’s a fine way to open an album. In keeping with its title, Born to Ride chugs along solemnly. It could be symbolic of a physical move, or perhaps symbolic of a journey far more spiritual and grandiose. Lyrics such as, “We go out/ Further than we’ve ever been before/ To see the whole world/ Leave the old world, behind,” support such a theory.
The title track – a song about the moral and physical challenges that come with killing what you eat (in Ribeiro’s case, a chicken) – is particularly clever, for without knowledge of this story, it’s a powerful metaphor for love and loss. Towards the end of side-B sits the sweet and delicate Strange Game. It’s the shortest song on the album, and also the one that has the most in common with Ribeiro’s 2012 debut album, a collection of country-folk songs called My Little River. It’s a big call, but it’s initially reminiscent of the iconic Elvis song, Can’t Help Falling in Love, and in that way it’s immediately sentimental.
Sonically, all of the songs on Kill It Yourself are as diverse as the stories and ideas behind them, but it’s Ribeiro as the protagonist and storyteller that binds them all together.
BY IZZY TOLHURST
