Following “the hardest three years of [her] life”, Kelly Lee Owens delivers Inner Song, an album as cathartic to listen to as it must have been to write. Owens’ self-titled debut featured a layered and eclectic tapestry of instruments and production techniques. Here, those edges are whittled. An increased focus on lyricism is favoured, and Inner Song consequently comes off much more personal than its predecessor.
There are upsides and downsides to Owens’ new methodology. In many cases, the album’s stripped-back sound is lean and focused—but it can, too, feel somewhat incomplete. The centrepiece of Inner Song is a ‘Corner of My Sky’, a collaboration with the great John Cale. Cale’s vocal contribution is (predictably) stellar, but feels ill-served by Owens’ instrumental, which slightly outlives its own ideas. When compared to Owens’ own track ‘8’ (replete with zany instrumental choices and tracks stacked miles high on each other), ‘Corner of My Sky’ doesn’t quite nail its slow build-up or cathartic crescendo in the same way.
But elsewhere, the simpler approach works wonders. ‘Melt!’ disciplines itself in a way that solidifies and strengthens its theme. ‘Night’ uses Owens’ (now trademark) formula: an ascent from balladry into ecstatic techno—but feels like a more complete realisation of that potential than before.
Lyrics are strongest when implicit and minimal. ‘Re-Wild’ and ‘L.I.N.E.’ may be too on-the-nose and sneaker advert-y for some tastes—but that just comes with the territory. Owens is an earnest and forthright songwriter. For anyone who remembers ‘Evolution’ off the last album, her very slight propensity for cheese will be no surprise. In their own way, these lyrics support Owens’ new-agey vibes—a former nurse, she was partially inspired to create music as an investigation of its healing properties. Nine times out of ten, her lyrics are perfectly fine—but the superb music around them makes every single clanger resonate that much louder.
‘Jeanette’ is the most emotive this album gets—and not a single lyric is spoken. The track testifies Owen’s nigh-unmatched talent as a producer; it balances its warmth with steely temperance, swaddles its beat in exquisite shrouds of sound. The track feels like a real-time transfiguration of pain into joy—an affirmative centrepiece, which says more than words ever could. It’s the overflowing heart of an album which shelves old experiments, instigates new ones, and seeks throughout to lift the spirit and body.
Inner Song is available for purchase and streaming here.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe