First Listen: Florence And The Machine ‘Lungs’

Florence And The Machine
‘Lungs’
(Island)

Florence And The Machine has the kind of voice that effortlessly blows away every spec of dust and cobweb from the furthest, hidden depths of your ear canals, leaving you stunned and windswept by her Goddess-like command. She’s impressed with her live shows, exhibited invigorating promise with her trio of singles, and now with her intricately produced (Paul Epworth, James Ford and Steve Mackay had hands on decks) debut album on the horizon it sounds like Florence Welsh could be on her way to critical and commercial glory. ‘Lungs’ is an incessant album that flits in and out of sanity, brute force and kindness and leaves you feeling depleted but awestruck. It’s not for the faint hearted, so leave your expectations at the door and prepare for your ears to get unsheltered..

Dog Days Are Over

A ukulele flits in and out of your ears like a butterfly flapping in the wind, before Florence Welsh’s vocals wistfully glide, building and building with new Jungle Book-like instrument additions until the thunderous drums punctuate every heartbeat as her vocals get more and more impassioned. The song pauses whilst Florence, bruised and breathlessly sings ‘And I never wanted anything from you/Except everything you had and what was left after that too..’ before the song explodes into a cacophony of layered vocals, twinkling strings, chugging pianos. An incredible start.

Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)

A gospel sounding choir (entirely made up of chanting Florence’s) recite ‘Raise it up!’ over a glittering harp until an almost dance-like pounding bridge kicks in, leading up to a gospel inspired chorus. Her vocal delivery bursts with fiery passion and ceaseless command before returning back to Florence’s searching, yearning younger sounding vocals. The song finishes exalted and breathless.

I’m Not Calling You A Liar

Gentle sleigh bells attribute Florence’s weary, love forlorn lyrics that tragically instruct, ‘I’m not calling you a liar/Just don’t lie to me/I’m not calling you a thief/Just don’t steal from me/I’m not calling you a ghost/Stop haunting me/I love you so much/ I’m going to let you kill me.’ Her words swell into a pool of angelic, swirling backing vocals and flutters of magical harp, creating a gentle wave of tangled emotions. Once the extravagant instrumentation is dropped we’re left hanging on a simple piano and a harp, as Florence naively sings ‘and when you kiss me I’m happy enough to die’, before the remainder of the song takes you on a few more flourishing turns.

Howl

‘Howl’ begins with a singular piano, until Florence lives up to the song’s name and bawls her lyrics out with every inch of her lungs. The pace of the drums, the brute force of her voice and the staccato, 80s sounding strings point towards Bat For Lashes stylistics, with an ultimate Kate Bush influence. Florence sounds less wounded and heartbroken in ‘Howl’ and more bitter and brutal. Its sudden ending and indecipherable lyrics make an impact but it’s not the best song on the album.

Kiss With A Fist

Her debut single sits in the middle of this masterpiece of an album and kind of sticks out in a clumsy, childish way. Out goes the theatrical vocals, pained lyrics and lush orchestration and inserted in its place is a frivolous, Boys In The Band-style song, adding a hit of reality to this otherworldly album for a second. It’s a big song but easily forgotten amongst some of the epic sounding tracks that precede it.

Girl With One Eye

A drowsy, curious Tom Waits feel gives this album a bluesy, smoky atmosphere. Florence’s unchained, lonesome bar singer vocals warble along to slouchy drums, right before all hell is unleashed. The word ‘CRY’ is belted out detonating everything that lay in its path. The song turns into an almighty, thunderous explosion and dissolves into a compelling, drunken, full blown sing-along.

Drumming

Heavily percussive and aptly titled ‘Drumming’ tribally booms and bangs along until crashing, urgent strings are added and the song erupts into a darkly anthemic chorus. Florence and her backing singers (lots of other Florence’s) sing sedated and siren-like, as the song pulsates and grows. There’s a bit towards the end that sounds a little bit like it could be part of an Evanescence song, but only because of all the gothic theatricalness. It’s not emo. Please don’t let that reference put you off.

Between Two Lungs

‘Between Lungs’ delicately snips and snaps like a crawling spider, or last few drops of rain after a storm. The darkness seems to have seized in favour of a more optimistic lighthearted sounding vocal and composition, her voice light and elegant, less pissed off and devil-like possessed and more like a twenty-something with an aching heart. Its Gaelic sounding drums and harp lead into a neat outro.

Cosmic Love

This song encapsulates the feel of the whole album, starting with a holy sounding Florence innocently pouring out words under ethereal instruments until she retaliates with power and force over a thumping drum. This song holds awesome command, with a soulful release and bombards your ears with unrelenting drums. It’s an absolute standout song.

My Boys Builds Coffins

After the grand exuberance of ‘Cosmic Love’, ‘My Boys Builds Coffins’ gives the listener some light relief, with it’s folktale lyrics and Gaelic drums. Her spellbound vocals layer and echo, each line slightly out of time to give a kind of possessed, enchanted feel to this simpler sounding song.

Hurricane Drunk

If you’re still reveling in disgust at the Evanescence comment earlier perhaps close your eyes for the next line: there’s something a tiny weeny bit KT Tunstal about this song. A tale of heart shattering pain and an inebriating cure, Florence draws from more of a contemporary, bouncing song pattern to form this swooning soon-to-be-heartbreak anthem. Her soulful voice holds a kind of grand Minni Ripperton ‘Les Fleur’ force.

Blinding

Strings are plucked as a distant giggle and scream is heard as Florence hazily sings ‘It seems that I have been held in some dreaming state/ I twist in the waking world never quite awake’, referencing a kind of twisted, dark PJ Harvey styled lyricism, her voice providing a calm before the thunderous storm. This is solemn, foreboding but excellent ending to an exhaustingly complex album.

Bonus: You’ve Got The Love

This is a bit of a marmite song, is Florence really ready take on the unsurpassabley passionate voice of Candi Staton with her bluesy soul and harp version? We’ll leave this one up to you…