"Cut it up, put it in my hand/You've become my joy you understand/Got a little colour in the pan/I love it." So begins Aldous Harding's fourth long-player, the reliably likable and often inscrutable Warm Chris. Like 2019's eccentric yet ultimately accessible Designer, the ten-song set drifts along at its own leisurely pace, pairing wry/sad/moving/surreal lyrics with breezy, slightly skewed pop melodies that suggest Lana Del Ray by way of Os Mutantes. Produced in a fittingly organic manner by frequent collaborator John ...
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"Cut it up, put it in my hand/You've become my joy you understand/Got a little colour in the pan/I love it." So begins Aldous Harding's fourth long-player, the reliably likable and often inscrutable Warm Chris. Like 2019's eccentric yet ultimately accessible Designer, the ten-song set drifts along at its own leisurely pace, pairing wry/sad/moving/surreal lyrics with breezy, slightly skewed pop melodies that suggest Lana Del Ray by way of Os Mutantes. Produced in a fittingly organic manner by frequent collaborator John Parish, Harding's songs often feel like they've been captured in real time. Early album gems like "Ennui," "Fever," and the bustling "Lawn" grow more robust and confident as they progress, and when Harding unearths a potent bit of prose ("time flies when you're writing B-sides"), you can hear the delight in her voice. Mirth and wicked merriment aside, there are deep undercurrents of melancholy that weave their way into Warm Chris' sparer moments. The jazzy "Bubbles" and the poignant "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain" (not the song you're thinking of) showcase Harding's deft hand at balancing idiosyncrasy with vulnerability -- "Love is the name of the game/You made such a mountain/She won't be coming round," she laments on the latter cut. Contributions from H. Hawkline, Seb Rochford, and Sleaford Mods' Jason Williamson are mostly subtle, though Williamson does lend an air of menace to the feisty closer "Leathery Whip." Like its three predecessors, Warm Chris blazes its own trail, and following along can sometimes feel like grasping at the last vestiges of a late-morning dream. It's both compelling and confounding, like Harding herself. ~ James Christopher Monger, Rovi
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