Ann Scott – Venus to the Sky (2013)

Wrapped in the warm and mesmeric tones of Irish singer songwriter Ann Scott from within songs which equally transfix with seductive elegance and smouldering beauty upon her latest release, it is very easy to see why the artist has been richly acclaimed in her homeland and beyond.
Her new album Venus to the Sky is a magnetic persuasion, one which toys with and evokes the imagination into exploring self-reflective climes as well as those offered from inside the ten track evocation. It is a masterful release which has attention and emotions lit from start to finish, and appetite for the darkly sirenesque charms of Scott dipped in hunger.
‘Hoola’ has a great nearly refrain from Radioheads ‘Creep’ in it, the faraway vocal is always brooding, a woman on the edge, swinging from desperate to defiant in equal measure. Anguish rock of Nirvana’s ‘Come as You Are’ leaks through one second then it’s the Cocteau Twins. Tanya Donnelly, Heather Nova, Tracey Bonham, Carina Round, sure they offer up similar fare, but this has the otherworldly edge of Kate Bush or Tori Amos that makes it special.

Throughout the bass is deep, muscular, driving the thing onwards, it is its heartbeat, like Simon Gallup to Robert Smith. Scott will draw many Florence comparisons, that would be far too blunt a comparison, Scott is so much better. It is like comparing Torquay United and Manchester City, yes they play the same game, and yes they win, but they are leagues apart. ‘Stripes’ echoes this marimba drums and a Latin shuffle with the floatiest gossamer vocal you’ll hear, like water from an icicle direct on to your forehead.

‘Joy’ couldn’t sound less joyful; it is cold, as is most of the record, but that is not engaging, it’s a record for padding round the house whilst your partner still sleeps. A record for the winter, for the early riser waiting for the heating to come on, all bundled up. Throughout it intimates at a bad deed done, but never spoken about, giving it a tautness, even unsettling creepiness at times – really really enjoyable.

From all its teenage boastfulness on ‘For the first time’ to the jarring cymbals of ‘Solemn’ this is a record that urges you to listen, forces itself upon you, and you’ll yield willingly. Give yourself to it and it will reward you, share yourself and you won’t be disappointed, “your only in love for the first time”, and there is no feeling like it.