A humble teenager is behind one of the most emotionally intelligent records of 2016 so far. There’s something pleasantly intrusive about listening to Låpsley’s Long Way Home. It’s as if you’ve followed her aching vocals into a vast auditorium and found her lone silhouette bent over a piano – or a laptop, rather. It’s an expansive yet intimate debut, with each of the 12 tracks reflecting the impressive journey this 19-year-old has been on since releasing her bedroom-recorded Monday EP back in 2013.
From the cooing vocals and elastic rhythm of opener Heartless, it becomes clear why this singer/songwriter and producer has garnered such attention. She’s got an affecting Adele-like voice, the DIY spirit of Grimes and that British broodiness that carried Daughter and London Grammar into the limelight. Yet Låpsley’s sound is distinctively her own.
Singles Hurt Me and Love Is Blind hang warped vocals off minimalist piano chords. Operator (He Doesn’t Call Me) adds a disco twist while Painter slips into a diffused lullaby of reverb-ridden chords and toy box tinkling. However, it is the stubbornly stark Station, with its rhythmic tug of dropped vocals, drifting falsetto and bizarre error-message sounds, that truly flaunts Låpsley’s production prowess.
A striking mix of simplicity and surprise, Long Way Home is an ambient gem.
By Jennifer Hoddinett
