Torres - Torres

In case you hadn't noticed from the gap between this and my last album review - Ke$ha's, which, by January 22, was already very late. That it's taken this long for a new artist to come along and excite me with just the one song should really sum up my ambivalence towards new music right now, but lo and behold a whole train of new and returning acts have just rolled in (I plan to get around to reviewing John Grant, The Joy Formidable, Biffy Clyro, Justin Timberlake, Youth Lagoon, Rhye, Stornoway, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Kate Nash, Laura Mvula, Bastille and... oh... just David Bowie).

It seems fitting though that I delve back in with something new, and Nashville-raised 22-year old Mackenzie Scott is that catalyst. For someone who only created her Facebook account last October, it would seem odd that such a large listening base has formed over on websites like last.fm and Spotify. Maybe it was that first glimpse - the Pitchfork-touted Honey - that, like me, demanded immediate attention, but who's complaining?

There's quite a tense, pre-thunderstorm atmosphere permeating the listening of Torres: opener 'Mother Earth, Father God' is a bitter, observation of voyeurism ("The hungry eyes linger as she twirls/ Got her hands lifted to Heaven and her toes dipped in Hell") that poses angry questions ("Was I blindsided after all?") and the resolute closer "I have been betrayed by a kiss". This kind of vague romantic turmoil is, equipped with a blustery, thudding and distorted monster of a guitar, what makes 'Honey' so gripping. "What ghost crawled inside my guitar?" she asks in her more tender moments, before unleashing a pained "Heavy are you on my mind!" It's the sweet transitions between emotional states that make it such a delicate and soulful song. The subject matters aren't always idiosyncratically hazy, though: 'Jealousy and I' has a fairly universal appeal in its lyrics ("I think I've always cared too much/ I'm suffocating you I know", and its tapping into adolescent insecurities and uncertainties only throws extra mood-pitched lighting on her songwriting. Musically, the track is unfocused: a background guitar quietly licks and stumbles as Scott leaves the melodics to her vocal.




Fans of prettier musical arrangements needn't look away though; the opening to 'November Baby' is as jacked up with as much Bon Iver or Mumford & Sons nostalgic sentiment as you'd like. The song deals cutely with the small details of a loved one - "your big sad eyes/ your crooked smile / your gapped teeth / your widow's peak" - as she opens up with the extent of her adoration. "I hear you on the tongues of strangers/ I hang on every word they speak", in particular, is a fine metaphor for the distraction and the persistence of infatuation. Her ear for a sweet ballad is seldom-seen though; 'When Winter's Over' is a full-on glam-rock instrumental providing some sort of sheen of independence and sexed-up backing. It's needed too: the track seems to suggest at a drunken hook-up ("Truths being told as soon as our minds were gone"... "You always made my head spin, more than the whiskey on our lips") gone awry once sober. There are shades of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in the whole thudding-drum, shrill-synth aesthetic of 'Chains'; "Don't give up on me just yet" she begs until crudely whipped away at the end with a sound effect. The most classic and conventional balladry on display is the strings-equipped 'Moon & Back', a kind of Bat for Lashes down-and-out poutfest ("Life just thought that I should draw the shortest straw" is a line almost amusingly self-deprecating).


The constant insecurity and uncomfortable honesty on tracks like 'Don't Run Away, Emilie' are what makes Torres such an engaging listen: the heartbreakingly forthright "I need you 'cause you see me somehow" taps into an interdependent frame of mind and a youthful desire for attention. It's not all young-girl problems though: indeed she even gets folksy on 'Come to Terms', where a world-weary vocal sighs "I'll never know if looking out the window is what brings me to my knees, or if it's what's inside that is killing me". By 'Waterfall' she's positively nihilistic: "Nowhere to go but down/ Nothing to do but drown" she suggests over a rolling, continual percussion that fades moodily to black.

The fact that her music requires the effort of the listener to delve in and find what emotional resonances they can, rather than possessing the all-heard vocals of an Adele ballad or the cheesy gimmick-laden breakup of Taylor Swift means that it's highly unlikely Torres will be a crossover artist. Which is fine, really, because the prospect of a top 10 hit about potential suicide slotting somewhere inbetween Flo Rida and Jessie J doesn't really work. The main fear though is that the world is so already abundant with guitar-wielding women belying their emotions and hopping between genres like nobody's business: PJ Harvey, St Vincent, Lissie, Laura Marling, Ellie Goulding and those below. Will Torres be able to pull off similarly strong songwriting a second time around, without the novelty of her new story?

Rating: 8/10
Highlights: Honey // Don't Run Away, Emilie // November Baby // Moon & Back // Chains
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: Detachable kissing lips sold separately.
For fans of: Anna Calvi, Sharon von Etten, Cat Power
Up next: Biffy Clyro