I Still Want to Share

Following a handful of EPs rolled out over the span of about a decade, U.K. singer/songwriter Sophie Jamieson crystallized her raw, stripped-down approach to arranging with a deeply personal full-length debut (2022s Choosing) that scrutinized her struggles with alcohol. Two years later, she follows its blend of folk and brooding indie rock with a slightly more expansive sound that adds strings, harmonium, and more to songs that remain introspective but find Jamieson gazing out the window and contemplating things like love and what it takes. Titled I still want to share, the album opens with the strings-embellished "Camera," a song about trying to bring life into focus. I still want to share was recorded with Grammy-winning producer Guy Massey (Spiritualized, Manic Street Preachers, Beatles reissues) and features string arrangements by Josephine Stephenson (Daughter, Ex:Re) and occasional drums by Ed Riman, aka Hilang Child, all of whom contributed to the reactively lush opener. Concerned with feelings of danger while falling in love, and employing a version of tempo rubato, the sparser "Vista" makes do with an arpeggiated guitar line and twinkling Omnichord thats contrasted by rumbling sub-bass experiments. These types of wide-ranging yet restrained components make for a quietly cinematic experience, as Jamieson goes on to examine other angles of love, with the eerily childlike "Baby" lamenting, "Baby, when you leave me/The wound becomes the weather," the howling ballad "Highway" moving her cross-country with all her belongings in tow but lacking a certain skill set, and the glistening low-key-electro-rock entry "How do you want to be loved?" helping to illustrate that familial love isnt necessarily less painful. The light shuffle, tapped glass, and layered vocal harmonies of "Id take you" open the door to possibility (but wouldnt bet on it working out), a tangible sign of healing within the context of Jamiesons narratives. The album ends with the memorable (and hummable) "Time pulls you over backwards," which tries hard to find gratitude among the battle scars. ~ Marcy Donelson