Ireland has a habit of producing wonderful female singers and Polly Barrett is no exception. The singer, who hails from Cork, possess an alluring and typically Irish voice, which indeed adds charm to an otherwise average album.
The album itself is by no means dire, in fact it is easy to listen to and you would not be in a hurry to turn it off. However it lacks any remarkable qualities to make both singer and album stand out among the many folky singer-songwriters that have been cropping up over the past decade. Her lyrics are simple in the best possible way however, again, there are no grabbing moments to peak the listener’s interest.
This may seem harsh, but once you consider Barrett’s counterparts, you will come to realise that to make a mark on this particular brand of acoustic, folksy music, the performer must have something outstanding to grab peoples’ attention; Lisa Hannigan has her twee but beautiful voice, Luan Parle’s voice and lyrics are emotive and Laura Marling is one of the most remarkable song writers of the past two years. Barrett, on the other hand, while pleasant on the ears, fails to offer anything eclipsing the aforementioned which I must use as the yardstick. One might be forgiven for thinking the title song may salvage the album, which holds so much promise, however the song ‘Mr. Bookshop’ is childish and depth-less to say the least. This, teamed with other dragged out songs of regret and over-thinking, such as ‘Quicksand’ and ‘Almost friend’, makes for a very tedious and passable album.
Perhaps the vocally talented young woman is still mastering her craft, as the album does have potential to be something more than mediocre, but fails to do so due the unimaginative and uncommunicative lyricism. While the album is by no means impressive, it does showcase Barrett’s inevitable talent, which leads to the conclusion that perhaps she merely needs to tweak a few elements to be the praise worthy songstress she has the capability to become.