Warmth. Joy. Sensitivity. These are three of the qualities – doubtless you could name others - that have contributed to Elles Bailey’s rise in recent years. They’re personal qualities that she’s successfully invested in her music, and they’re all present and correct on new album Beneath The Neon Glow.
That sense of joy imbues opening track ‘Enjoy The Ride’, a sprightly testament to following your dreams and making the most of the journey, characterised by lightly tripping drums, spangles of guitar, and now trademark quality harmonies. Joe Wilkins adds a skating slide solo, and all the while Bailey captures the spirit with her lead vocal, punching home the short and sweet chorus.
It’s there a few tracks later too on ‘1972’, a very 70s-sounding slice of country-funkiness given a distinctive feel by Matthew Jones’ laid back, shuffling percussion and Matthew Waer’s elasticated bass, enriched by sax from Pete Fraser, over which Bailey delivers a relaxed vocal to cap the sunny vibe.
At the other end of the spectrum, ‘Silhouette In A Sunset’ is a standout that displays Bailey’s sensitivity, a ballad of the kind that Bailey nailed on her last album Shining In The Half-Light. A contemplation of deep human connection, it sports the wonderfully allusive lines “I’ll see you when we meet, at the dark end of the street / Or at the end of the galaxy”, Bailey’s patience and phrasing capturing the mood perfectly. The backing is subtle, with tickles of piano from Jonny Henderson, what sounds like moans of lap steel guitar but is probably Joe Wilkins conjuring up something atmospheric on guitar, and towards the end another appealing bass groove from Waer.
That slippery guitar sound crops up again on the even deeper set ballad ‘Let It Burn’, contributing to the evocative, dramatic mood alongside Bailey’s aching, reverb-heavy vocal and some soaring, wordless backing vocals, the song elevated further by Wilkins’ stinging, ringing solo.
‘Ballad Of A Broken Dream’ is a ballad in the sense of story-telling rather than tempo, downbeat but taken at a clip. Now and then I’ve remarked that Bailey could surely produce a great version of Elles Bailey’s ‘Pearl’s A Singer’, and here she actually contrives a similar lyrical tale. But whereas the strength of ‘Pearl . . .’ was its elegiac honky-tonk simplicity, Bailey’s ‘Ballad’ is more intricate, lyrically and musically, and stylistically if it stems from Americana it ends up a mainstream crossover.
“Crossover” in fact, is a key factor in Bailey’s development. The finger-snapping ‘Leave The Light On’ contemplates the tension between liberty and tolerance in a relationship, and does so with an intent that you could compare to, say, Gerry Rafferty - rootsy but not stuck in a pigeonhole. ‘If This Is Love’ is even better, with its chunky guitar chords and great opening line, “You got the face in a line-up that I’ll never forget”. The chorus is irresistible, and full of typical Bailey joie de vivre, and the song is boosted by a brief but gutsy organ break from Henderson. At her best, with a song like this, Bailey is really serving up old-fashioned, quality pop music that goes beyond genre. And it has that signature warmth too, the naturalness of someone who can rock the onstage glad-rags alright, but is still the smiling and winking girl next door you've known since whenever.
Maybe ‘Truth Ain’t Gonna Save Us’ and the strolling ‘Love Yourself’ don’t quite reach the same level as the best material here, but they’re still enjoyable enough. And Bailey saves a trump card for last with the plangent ballad ‘Turn Off The News’, a heartfelt reflection about how the world beyond our front door can be a sad and dangerous place, that’s all about Bailey conveying the emotion, which she does in spades.
Beneath The Neon Glow doesn’t quite leap out of the speakers as a humdinger in the way that Shining In The Half-Light did. But it’s still a damn good successor, underlining that Elles Bailey is here to stay, deepening her sound and growing her audience at every step.
Beneath The Neon Glow is released by Cooking Vinyl Records on 9 August, and can be ordered here.
That sense of joy imbues opening track ‘Enjoy The Ride’, a sprightly testament to following your dreams and making the most of the journey, characterised by lightly tripping drums, spangles of guitar, and now trademark quality harmonies. Joe Wilkins adds a skating slide solo, and all the while Bailey captures the spirit with her lead vocal, punching home the short and sweet chorus.
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| Elles Bailey strikes a pose - there's nothing to it Pic by Rob Blackham |
At the other end of the spectrum, ‘Silhouette In A Sunset’ is a standout that displays Bailey’s sensitivity, a ballad of the kind that Bailey nailed on her last album Shining In The Half-Light. A contemplation of deep human connection, it sports the wonderfully allusive lines “I’ll see you when we meet, at the dark end of the street / Or at the end of the galaxy”, Bailey’s patience and phrasing capturing the mood perfectly. The backing is subtle, with tickles of piano from Jonny Henderson, what sounds like moans of lap steel guitar but is probably Joe Wilkins conjuring up something atmospheric on guitar, and towards the end another appealing bass groove from Waer.
That slippery guitar sound crops up again on the even deeper set ballad ‘Let It Burn’, contributing to the evocative, dramatic mood alongside Bailey’s aching, reverb-heavy vocal and some soaring, wordless backing vocals, the song elevated further by Wilkins’ stinging, ringing solo.
‘Ballad Of A Broken Dream’ is a ballad in the sense of story-telling rather than tempo, downbeat but taken at a clip. Now and then I’ve remarked that Bailey could surely produce a great version of Elles Bailey’s ‘Pearl’s A Singer’, and here she actually contrives a similar lyrical tale. But whereas the strength of ‘Pearl . . .’ was its elegiac honky-tonk simplicity, Bailey’s ‘Ballad’ is more intricate, lyrically and musically, and stylistically if it stems from Americana it ends up a mainstream crossover.
“Crossover” in fact, is a key factor in Bailey’s development. The finger-snapping ‘Leave The Light On’ contemplates the tension between liberty and tolerance in a relationship, and does so with an intent that you could compare to, say, Gerry Rafferty - rootsy but not stuck in a pigeonhole. ‘If This Is Love’ is even better, with its chunky guitar chords and great opening line, “You got the face in a line-up that I’ll never forget”. The chorus is irresistible, and full of typical Bailey joie de vivre, and the song is boosted by a brief but gutsy organ break from Henderson. At her best, with a song like this, Bailey is really serving up old-fashioned, quality pop music that goes beyond genre. And it has that signature warmth too, the naturalness of someone who can rock the onstage glad-rags alright, but is still the smiling and winking girl next door you've known since whenever.
Maybe ‘Truth Ain’t Gonna Save Us’ and the strolling ‘Love Yourself’ don’t quite reach the same level as the best material here, but they’re still enjoyable enough. And Bailey saves a trump card for last with the plangent ballad ‘Turn Off The News’, a heartfelt reflection about how the world beyond our front door can be a sad and dangerous place, that’s all about Bailey conveying the emotion, which she does in spades.
Beneath The Neon Glow doesn’t quite leap out of the speakers as a humdinger in the way that Shining In The Half-Light did. But it’s still a damn good successor, underlining that Elles Bailey is here to stay, deepening her sound and growing her audience at every step.
Beneath The Neon Glow is released by Cooking Vinyl Records on 9 August, and can be ordered here.
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