Laura Marling - Once I Was an Eagle


Coming up next in my "lovely things I forgot to get around to listening to earlier in the year" series is the refreshingly consistent Laura Marling. 4 albums into a career that's seen three of them nominated for the Mercury Prize and one of them good enough to pick up a surprising BRIT Award in 2011, Marling is my age. How depressing.

For the third time now, producer Ethan Johns is at the helm after a relatively quiet year (his only other contributions appear to be to Paul McCartney and the Vaccines after 2011's A Creature I Don't Know), but that he should oversee The Vaccines Come of Age is a happy coincidence: Once I Was an Eagle has a startling sense of her own coming-of-age. Fighting her demons (opener Take the Night Off addresses her own demons directly: "be gone from my mind, at least/ let a little lady be"), the album has a remarkably endearing quality in its growth and progress into its final track.


"I know there's no helping hell" she moans on that fretful opener as frenzied, panicked guitar segues break it and 'I Was an Eagle' up, and even pretty little fits of birdsong can't save the self-pity. "Every little girl is so naive, falling in love with the first man she sees/ Oh, I will not be a victim of romance" might sound cocksure but it feels more like she's incapable of romance rather than flatly refusing it: "When we were in love - IF we were" certainly establishes doubt on her history and ability to fall for someone. She's even casting doubt on her childhood on 'You Know' - "You asked me blind once if I was a child once/ And I said I'm really not sure" - so one can't help but take Marling to be an out-of-sorts misery-guts. The pitter-patter of bongos breaks up the dark atmosphere briefly on 'Breathe' but she's still acknowledging ubiquitous cruelty.

As is routine with reviewing a Marling record, much can be made of the album's influences: there's a touch of Dylan about the lyrical weavings on 'Master Hunter' ("well if you want a woman who can call your name, it ain't me babe") and the musical side of it is even a touch Ledzeppy, whilst the obligatory Joni mention can be attributed to the gorgeously aching Blue-like 'Little Love Caster' (a total masterpiece, by the way) or the optimistic airs of Hejira on 'Little Bird'. There's also a fleeting reminder of Paint it Black's melody and energy about 'Devil's Resting Place' - a nice continuation of I Speak Because I Can's single Devil's Spoke - and the whole middle of the album has a rich attention to detail with its orchestration.

If it were possible, though, the best is saved 'til last. A gospel organ brings some much-needed optimism to 'Where Can I Go?' She's still reminded of her problems, but here she's showing signs of direction. A play on words with the album title gives us the beautifully sombre 'Pray for Me', before she turns her focus on a quest for life with meaning and a desire to be heard on 'When Were You Happy?': "My vote was never counted/ So who upon this Earth knows what it is that I believe?". "Do the birds suffer so? Do they sing because they know?" she ponders on 'Love be Brave' before the knock-out double closer of 'Little Bird' and 'Saved These Words' closes up. Here, on the latter, she sounds bolder and braver, and it's a fascinating development.


16 tracks and not one of them bores me; Once I Was an Eagle is one of those LPs that demands to be listened to in its entirety (perhaps with a bottle of wine, perhaps face-down crying into a pillow). Whilst the media portrays folk music as this strumming, chirpy load of nonsense from besotted, beardy bands, Marling is the real deal: the poetry, the menace and the power of her albums keep her a national treasure. This is quite comfortably her best album to date in my eyes, and sits equal with Let England Shake in terms of recent British classics. God knows what's next.

Rating: 9/10
Highlights: Pray for Me; Little Love Caster; I Was an Eagle; Saved These Words; When Were You Happy?
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: Not the most convincing image to go with its title, Laura, love.
Up next: Jake Bugg  

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