Matilda Mann released her debut album, Roxwell, last week and it’s bloody beautiful.
Last week, I was stuck in a Lana Del Rey-shaped rut. I must’ve gone through her entire discography several times. ‘Lucky Ones’ itself reached double-digit listens. I didn’t even think about another artist for 7 days, the only thought was which Lana album to listen to next.
Every week, Apple Music updates with any new releases you’ve pre-saved, a handy feature for a forgetful mind. Searching for a change of pace as Ultraviolence came to an end upon entering Hulme’s Asda Superstore, I opted to end my relentless cycle of sad girl west coast pop and try something new, something released that day.
Starting with delicate guitar plucks and soft vocals, Matilda Mann’s Roxwell made the weekly shop feel like a coming-of-age film. Twists and turns, falls and peaks, intimacy and excitement, it travels along a non-linear, non-uniform timeline that merges stripped back folk sounds (‘At The End of the Day’) with anthemic indie pop (‘Say It Back’) and touches of jazz-infused moments reminiscent of Clairo (‘Dazed & Confused’). All of this within the first three songs.
‘Say It Back’ is a bright, upbeat pop song about the pain of someone not loving you back, capturing the contradictions relationships often throw up. In the midst of the chaos of the fruit and veg section, I parked the trolley up, read the lyrics and embraced the naivety and innocence within the song, counteracted by an anthemic chorus that gives you the urge to start running. All the best songs contain a multitude of emotions, they tell stories of loss, of pain as a firework display erupts in the background – that’s good songwriting, the ability to make you see one thing and feel another.
The album progressed as I weaved down each aisle, picking up whatever was needed for the week, disassociating from the people around me, dodging pushchairs and couples holding hands, the strings on ‘Tell Me That I’m Wrong’ making the usually colossal decision of which frozen chips to get seem futile (straight cut, own brand).
I paused in stride again as Matilda sang ‘Am I the worst person alive’, later reading the lyrics and understanding that the song details the pain of breaking up with someone, knowing you’re about to inflict pain on someone you once loved and having to witness that pain appear. It’s heartbreaking, the strings adding additional sombreness – not that that’s needed, it’s a beautifully brutal number. ‘I know it’s cruel that I’m leaving / But it’s cruller to stay with you’.
It is rare to feel such an array of feelings in one album, let alone when you’re listening to it in Asda. The devastation of ‘Worst Person Alive’ is countered by a pounding bassline on ‘Meet Cute’ which ventures further into pop territory, one relationship ends as another potentially starts. The array of sounds, genres and song tyles on the record seems to capture the unpredictability of love and relationships – each moment is always different, the emotions are volatile, each day you spin a wheel and experience something new. ‘Worst Person Alive’ is an ending, ‘Meet Cute’ is the beginning of new possibilities.
Saturday was the first day of spring. Blue skies, sun shining, people having a beer outside, people wearing sunglasses, people smiling. Life felt a little easier, it was March and it wasn’t fucking freezing. It felt like the day to get out of a repetitive rut and it was.
Roxwell by Matilda Mann is out now.
