Laura Marling always misses. Seven of her eight songs score above 80/100 from audio critics on AOTY, and all carry above 75/100 in viewer ratings. By this basic mathematics, her latest report, Patterns in Follow, ranks second or third best after 2020’s Music for Our Daughter and 2013’s When I Was an Eagle, depending on the counting method. However, a few challenges arise: second, when faced with such widespread acclaim, the temptation to doubt it and write a contrarian review is strong, second, it can be challenging to pinpoint what’s truly excellent versus really good in folk music, particularly within the rich catalog of a single artist.
Beyond re-visiting an album numerous times and assessing how it enriches the type and affects the music business as a whole, you typically take a deep breath and consider whether the lyrics fit the so-called mood and how they relate to one specific singer’s biography. That frequently necessitates thorough research, including reading lots of conversations and features, and even speaking with key figures in the field. Often, you’re almost ready to write an whole history text on a singer you’ve just investigated. You begin to unravel all the designer has hidden in their report, and the deeper it’s buried under layers of meanings, references, and complicated riddles, the higher the score it gradually deserves.
Most musicians are n’t philosophers or scientists who can provide deep, life-changing insights or alter your perspective on a variety of subjects, it’s obvious. Many, especially in the folk genre, mostly sing about basics like love, exes, family, parenthood, loss, and other mundane struggles. Their popularity depends in part on how well a musician is able to do so. If their lyrics are straightforward and relatable enough to appeal to the experiences of regular people who listen to them and sophisticated enough for critics to proudly wear a musician’s merchandise tee with their song lines, bingo.
” You and your dad are dancing in the kitchen / Life is slowing down, but it’s still bitchin'”, Laura Marling sings in the opening track,” Child of Mine”, adding,” I got myself a rod, but I could break it / My back is still as strong as I can make it”. Even the most critical-minded listener will be disarmed by her amazing ability to craft complex and straightforward lines. It’s simple to give this album every praise it can muster given how delicately and poignantly sweetly she sings about the fear of missing even a single moment of her young daughter’s development. At some point, it is almost tangible as if she might break into something like Des’ree’s” Life” singing,” Life, oh life, oh life, oh life”, but instead, she coos,” Child of mine / Child of mine”, under an angelic choir.
This sweet and profoundly reflective lullaby was the record’s first step toward creating it, perfectly capturing the tone of Terrence Malick‘s The Tree of Life and its moving messages intended for a future-oriented, grown-up child. Echoing this comparison, Marling sings over The Last of Us soundtrack-meets Phoebe Bridgers-like strums,” To have your children, your flock of birds / Your branch among the wood”, in the lead single,” Patterns”, evoking the idea of a “family tree”, as noted by an observant user, LazelleLyrics, in an annotation on Genius. ” Pulled for meaning, I arched my back/ And then from the black you were born”, she continues, delivering one of the most poetic descriptions of childbirth.
In the Christian Lee Hutson-evoking” Your Girl”, the theme of childbirth seamlessly flows back and forth into reflections on relationships and motherhood, much like scenes in Marc Forster’s Stay. In the same way, this interweaving works in the piano-led, almost Satie/Debussy-esque nano-berceuse,” No One’s Gonna Love You Like I Can”. Although Marling’s work has always been referred to as wise or accomplished “beyond her years,” these complex and nuanced lyrics could only be written by a deeply knowledgeable person or perhaps by someone who has an MA in psychoanalysis, which Marling completed about a month before giving birth. Despite describing it as” completely antiquated, and full of glaring, problematic errors”, she also found it” an amazing extractive tool for making music because it’s really about investigating the poetic nature of the unconscious”.
Speaking of the connection between lyrics and a musician’s life, which we touched upon above, while Laura Marling’s previous record, Song for Our Daughter, was written to an imagined child, work on Patterns in Repeat began after she gave birth to her baby, Maudie, whose presence is evident in some songs. Still, most of these songs can easily be perceived as totally unrelated to motherhood, as in the slightly Billie Eilish-ish and intensely grave Western film-suited ballad” The Shadows”. Could this song be about relationships? Yes. Is the sly and somewhat mocking kicker,” Caroline”, perfect for the evergreen, diaristic breakup ballads category? Also yes. The entire 36-minute run has themes of children and growing up/aging that are still present throughout.
One of the record’s pivotal gems is” Looking Back”, an old-school Bob Dylan-flavored song written by Laura Marling’s father, Charlie Marling, in his youth, imagining old age. ” Looking back, that’s all I do / Looking back, that’s all I’ll ever do”, she ruminates with astute wisdom beyond her years. This heartfelt twist in the family was made possible in part by her father teaching her to play Neil Young songs on guitar when she was six. Marling’s early music career began at age 16 as a result of his work operating a recording studio and her mother’s position as a music teacher. The album’s tiny details give it a universal feel, moving beyond the realm of the typical maternal album to a more profound examination of the intergenerational legacy and familial love.
Patterns in Repeat is not intended for large stadiums or even the customary form of touring because, according to Marling,” I like to be at home,” but rather for personal reasons that magically concord with the desires of millions of listeners. This is the ideal complement to the text’s introduction. By openly expressing her most intimate feelings, Laura Marling yet again hits a bingo of critical recognition, listener respect, and personal fulfillment.