Eight years ago, government made it easier to turn old shops and offices into homes. How's it panning out?
More than 10 percent of the notified homes turned into, it seems, holiday lets.
The musician says her new album, Draw the Outline, brought her “great solace and peace in writing it. I hope it can do the same for whoever needs it.”
Sorcha Richardson isn’t coy about the aesthetic she’s attempting to conjure. “The low hiss of the tape machine,” she sings on “Grenadine” as a rustic purr radiates from the chipped guitar chords and Hammond organs. “Well, that’ll put your mind to rest.”
That’s Richardson for you – she just spells it all out. I’ve previously called her writing “emotionally precise and richly detailed”, and, at its best, new album Draw the Outline again exhibits that cherished skillset.
It’s very easy to find something in a Sorcha Richardson song that’s relatable: a thought, an impulse, a moment that’s long been lingering in your mind. Yet on “Grenadine”, the singer sounds like she’s reaching for some kind of catharsis from her music that never quite arrives. “I push the pedal, I make the harmony sing,” she croons in a dulcet tone. “But I can’t make sense of anything.” Because sometimes creating art doesn’t bring relief – an intriguing and brave thing for a songwriter to reveal.
Richardson makes appealing indie-folk music that flows out of speakers with the greatest of ease; it’s soothing like an oldies AM radio station playing from the kitchen windowsill on a summer day. I spent much of my first two or three spins of Draw the Outline, her third album, wondering if I had heard some of these songs before. That’s not a criticism – there’s something here that’s reassuringly familiar.
The story of the album is a common singer-songwriter yarn of craggy solitude proving to be creatively inspiring. In this version of the story, Richardson, a native Dubliner, spent nearly a decade living in frenetic New York City before settling in West Kerry a couple of years ago. As press notes describe, Draw the Outline was shaped by this tranquil backdrop “at the foot of a mountain and a short walk from the sea, where life moves at a slower pace”. Richardson plotted the project in her small bedroom and on walks along Ventry beach in Dingle. It is, she has said, “a nice place to be”.
Richardson has also talked about her excitement at playing these songs at record stores and pop-ups, and it’s easy to discern that they favour small-scale venues. The title of opener “Sea Pink Moon” would appear to nod to deified English folk artist Nick Drake. There’s a dandelion-delicate synth that, Richardson explained to Nialler9, seeks to emulate the sound of the wind that blows though Ventry beach, while the lyrics conjure appropriately naturalistic moods: lilies in the white morning light, jagged rocks and violets.
Wispy acoustic plucks and strums underpin further soft-filtered numbers such as “Fake Venice” and “Ellen Forever”, both co-written with the great Derry singer-songwriter SOAK and bolstered by vocal performances that showcase Richardson’s natural tunefulness. A propulsive highlight comes with the single “Illinois Again”, which boasts a more forceful drum beat and crackling electric guitar. “Fifty to 80/ Ice on the road/ Four-wheel drive and an orange crane,” Richardson traces, adding to the great tradition of songs by Bruce Springsteen and Lana Del Rey that find that life often happens inside the steel and glass backdrop of cars.
If you’re searching for flaws, then the album is front-loaded. After the canine-appreciating pop jam “Dog’s Best Man” (“He’s a man's best friend/ That dog is a bully/ Yes, but I’m a dog’s best man/ I just take what I can,” Richardson sings playfully), things significantly quieten as a breezier, more minimalist sound emerges. Tracks begin to feel like blurry memories, slow in their tempo, delicately sung, never unpleasant; clipped bars and rich finger-picking guitar play elevates wistful closer “The Video”. But perhaps Draw the Outline would have benefitted from a tracklist reshuffle to ensure one of its more assertive numbers was somewhere down the stretch to bring the whole thing home.
Look, that’s a minor quibble; Draw the Outline is undeniably a triumph for Richardson. She had stated that she wanted to make the kind of record she felt her discography was missing – objective achieved. “It’s an album that brought me great solace and peace in writing it,” she said. “I hope it can do the same for whoever needs it.” Sure enough, this is a soothing, appealing collection of songs. Now let’s see where the wind blows her next.
Sorcha Richardson performs at The Academy on 6 November