Louise Le May
Album: A Tale Untold
Label: Folkwit
Tracks: 11
Website: http://www.louiselemay.com

This is a record with a gently captivating aura all its own. The songs within may be introspective yet they’re honestly expressed, sensitive without being precious, and exquisitely turned. As is Louise’s personal, genuinely characterful and yes, distinctly beguiling delivery, which is delicate, poised and breathy in the most refreshing sense of those terms. The quality of “evanescent charm” that provides a hook for the disc’s title song is a constant through the album’s eleven compositions, and the demeanour of the writing, while thoughtful, is positive and life-affirming. Dreamlike yet grounded in reality, Louise’s haunting lyrics are conveyed with both precision and economy within commendably spacious and airy musical settings. She keeps her faith in a lonely place; and you too can be her soulmate…

Unfortunately I can’t tell you anything about Louise herself (although Nottingham is alluded to on her Bandcamp site, her own website is devoid of any background information whatsoever). However, I’m given to understand that she released an EP (Tell Me One Thing That Is New) in 2009, to which time several of the songs she’s included on A Tale Untold back-date. The default/stereotype image of guitar-toting singer-songwriter doesn’t apply to Louise, for her voice is her instrument of choice – although she does take to the piano for just one track on the album, Sink And Swim. In fact, piano and keyboards form the dominant textures generally here, and any guitars are used sparingly within the soundscape; doubtless these aspects arise from the overseeing presence and thus direct influence of the album’s arranger/co-producer (and multi-instrumentalist) Louis Philippe, who conjures an ethereal, delicately perfumed sound-world that intoxicates the listener and intently reflects and matches Louise’s writing and singing. He also employs a string quartet, which imparts an even more lush (even at times autumnal) tint to several of the songs, and there are occasional touches of electropop – but only when appropriate for the lyric, for example the ominous luminosity of Radium Smile. The title song, left until last, is one of the most beautiful and sensuous of Louise’s creations. In common with the preceding ten tracks, this is bravely gentle, soul-assuaging music that needs to be played loud so that its often swooningly luxuriant attention to detail (both lyrical and musical) and hidden depths can be properly savoured. A truly enchanting disc.

David Kidman