When the duo, Lamb, burst on the scene in the mid 90s, it wasn’t only the frenetic and interesting beats from Andy Barlow that commanded attention, the vocal talents of Lou Rhodes were instantly recognisable as a new voice worth paying attention to. And when Lamb split, as Rhodes did with her partner at the same time, there was no inkling of what might come next. But what did demonstrated that Lou Rhodes was more than a backdrop in an electronic band.
Widely acclaimed on release, Beloved One was shortlisted for the Mercury Prize in 2006, and from the opening bars of Each Moment New, it’s clear that this is very much not Lamb and also very much a personal album. Its naked honesty marks the album as a standout piece of art, marrying minimal percussion with more organic instruments such as Rhodes’ beautiful acoustic guitar playing, a piano, and also double bass. It’s not just stripped back, it’s laid bare – both Rhodes’ own view of her life, and the music itself.
Because of the emotional upheaval that any ending brings – be it personal or musical relationship – the listener is drawn in deeper with each track. Lou Rhodes delves into her own pain along with her well of optimism of a future, as yet unknown to her or us, to deliver an album that is as much a rebirth of her own self as it is a call to arms for us to love the world in which we exist. There is real optimism to be found in her lyrics, rather than simple or shallow platitudes. Rhodes takes us on a journey with her, by inviting us into her world, and it would take a cold-hearted brain-dead moron to not be moved by that.
Just the circular refrain of Fortress, played impeccably on the acoustic guitar, would be hard to resist continuous playing. The love song – perhaps to her children, maybe to herself – that is the title track, Beloved One, is so rich in both instrumentation and lyrics, with space and quietness built into the composition through its incorporation of natural sounds of birdsong, the call of the flute in the opening moments before voice and guitar work together begs for a stylus to bring it’s delicacy to your ears.
Then there is the percussive guitar playing on Tremble along with Rhodes’ trademark voice that is as close to her previous work in Lamb as this album could offer; and yet, it’s melody could have been plucked from an obscure 60’s folk album beloved of so many these days. It’s an unforgettable album in so many respects that only listening to it can really do it justice. So do that.
Originally released on her own Infinite Bloom label, it was reissued with additional tracks on CD by Cooking Vinyl. However, somehow this album has never been committed to vinyl. And yet, if ever an album was made for that format, it’s this one. The songs are so good, you’d want to be jumping up to turn this record over, again and again, until you wore through the plastic. I’ll be doing everything in my power to have a conversation with Lou Rhodes about putting this out as on Unspun Heroes.
EDIT: Lou’s Bandcamp page has been taken down. In a conversation with her recently, she said she was hoping it would be back up soon. In the meantime, here’s a link to a YouTube playlist of this album.