Tallulah Rendall
Album: The Banshee And The Moon
Label: Transducer
Tracks: 12
Website: http://www.tallulahrendall.com/

This release, Tallulah's third, represents even more of a hard-won labour-of-love than its predecessors, not just because it was crowd-funded. It's the proud end-product of an exhausting couple of years coping with a major transition involving all manner of life-changing experiences, including a clearly fantastic new relationship, various periods of illness and a wholesale relocation (London to rural Devon via Berlin and Bristol).

After making two albums that, while celebrating her own creative muse, nevertheless captured the sound she achieved with a band in tow, Tallulah's intention for her third album was to focus on her essence as an artist and the energy of her live performances, through the portrayal of her muse, nominally The Banshee - "a wild woman: wise, free, powerful, honest and untameable". This character certainly pervades the twelve songs with its fierce, independent spirit, while its concomitant mysterious and elusive qualities are reflected especially in the series of B&W photographic images which tellingly accompany and sit alongside the lyrics - each song being paired with an appropriate image taken by one of five designated photographer-collaborators (each of whom brings a definable individuality of identity in specific elements such as resolution and light gathering, from the pastel grains of Paris Ackrill to the starkly detailed treescapes of Serena Bolton, the intriguing shifting mixed-focus adventures of Akio and the intensely private visions of Ben Heron, with The Banshee's strident central image whirling off the page courtesy of Jim Kroft). Further significant images are scattered through Tallulah's disarmingly honest diary account and the back-credits, but arguably most striking of all is its front cover portrayal of the album title. You need to be aware that the album comes in a bewildering multiplicity of formats, and most handsomely of all as a sturdy hardcover book with CD encased within. This is both the ideal and the most desirable, and conforms with the state-of-the-art presentation of Tallulah's previous releases, giving both a satisfying artistic unity and consistency to her output and furthering the benchmark of high standard. The package is superb - except that, unaccountably, some rather essential detail (summary credits and tracklist) is missing from the outer back cover.

The music itself was recorded in splendid near-isolation at a remote studio on Osea Island, Essex, with Tallulah singing and playing guitars, piano and bass, and drummer John Blease adding the necessary supple and truly alive backbeats. The expansive sound of the album, with its often distinctly epic indie vibe, belies the ostensibly stripped-back simplicity of execution, with a tensile strength and determination that shines through the canvas, the often startling photographic images providing the luminosity and balance that the lyrics and music together voice. Although Tallulah displays a keen intelligence in her approach to instrumental texturing (and by the way, her bass playing is especially cool!), it's literally her singing voice which is ever a strong point. Tallulah's sweeping confidence drives all before it, whether on the swooning impressionism of Run Let The River Run, the delicate Trust In Me or the carefree Hear Me Now, all conveyed with a wholly purposeful brand of personal energy. In effect, the album's journey can be seen to portray the metamorphosis of Tallulah's muse, through the freewheeling beginning and the increasingly assured bravery of Canary to the pounding Patti Smith-like angst-desperation of Pieces, then the uplifting naked rebirth of She Rises Up and the gospel-mode exhortation of Shine On, the positive dawning of Go My Way and the unstoppable wave of Hear Me Now to the cathartic breakout of The Banshee herself; the glowering realisations of Land Away then lead onward to the poised-on-the-edge resilience of Trust In Me and into the intimacy of the final stage, which by way of the seriously beautiful "bold fragility" of Eyes finally reaches the eerie, mesmerising state of Lost In The Moonlight.

This is a uniquely stylish release, and yes, not only does it sound great with plenty of presence, but, importantly, it also succeeds in conveying Tallulah's integrity and imagination through a truthful musical and visual depiction of her essence as a creative artist, much more than just a singer-songwriter.

David Kidman