2019 has been a huge year for reflective and ruminative records around the globe.
At the centre of this, there appears to be a trend in which these seminal albums – think Stella Donnelly’s Beware of the Dogs, Julia Jacklin’s Crushing, Solange’s When I Get Home – are hinged upon an overwhelming sense of displacement, isolation, or pure melancholy.
Lucy Rose’s 2019 LP, No Words Left, rides a similar wave; this album is an exploration of what Rose has described as “the worst period of my life”, paired with unexpected and dreamy production that left many fans speechless.
Ahead of a huge tour spanning the UK, US, Mexico, France, Canada, and Australia, Rose is finding solace in her solitude. When she answers the phone, she is sitting at home with a cup of tea while a dog intermittently barks from the backyard. This quiet respite is a stark contrast to the year ahead; she’s revelling in the calm before the storm.
“I’m excited for the Australian tour, but I don’t want to spend too much time looking that far ahead,” says Rose. “I’ve been cutting it into sections, so I’ll think, ‘I’ll just crack on with this tour, and then I’ll think about the UK, and then Europe and Mexico and LA’… Sorry, that’s a crap answer.”
These small self-deprecating ticks are littered throughout the conversation, which lends itself to the well-known discomfort felt by many musicians when placed in the spotlight. Rose is particularly self-conscious when it comes to so overtly addressing her own art, stating that she fears being “self-absorbed” when it comes to the record. Perhaps Rose’s introduction to No Words Left’s opener, ‘Conversation’, is a fitting explanation; “Conversation don’t come easy/But I’ve got a lot to say.”
‘Conversation’ is a soft and mellow sounding track that, on first listen, primarily showcases the restrained vibrato and beautiful harmonies of Rose’s delicate vocals. However, it is a juggernaut of confessional lyricism that sets a tone of sombre beauty which carries seamlessly through the album.
No Words Left is a sudden darkness for Rose, giving fans an unprecedented display of vulnerability hinged upon trauma and sorrow, as opposed to the previous vulnerability hinged upon hope and trust. Rose’s transformation, though a surprise to listeners, was a bomb waiting to go off for the artist.
“I think I’ve always had it in me. There are certain things that I’ve wanted to say my whole life, but for various reasons I’ve never been able to say them,” she admits. “Now, I’m not embarrassed to say those things and harness those feelings all into one song.”
Is No Words Left perhaps a union of vulnerability and the urge to control one’s own narrative, especially that peddled by the media?
“I feel like – as most people do, not just musicians or artists – I’ve always been misunderstood or read wrong. You know, taken the wrong way. I think eventually, instead of feeling embarrassed and thinking ‘that must be my fault’ or ‘maybe I’m just colder than I meant to be’, I turned it into more of an anger.”
Though she loathes to dwell upon it, Rose has a vision for the upcoming Australian shows that she knows will be great – as soon as she gets over the anxiety that comes with such a huge line of performances.
“Once I get going it’ll be fine, it’s just the nerves of, ‘oh what happens if I mess up’ or ‘what if I’m just terrible’. I don’t know, it’s a lot of new material and I haven’t played any of them live yet.
“I’ve played the Northcote Social Club before, though, which is quite intimate. My music works well with that close atmosphere, so it’ll just be me and my songs, and it’s important for me to be able to see the crowd as well. I’m usually super creepy and stare straight back at you while I’m singing, so everyone has that to look forward to as well.”
Catch Lucy Rose at Northcote Social Club on Thursday June 6. Tickets are on sale now via the venue’s website.
