- Follow up albums are, historically, a tough milestone. The break-through release (marketed as the debut despite often being the result of many smaller releases) has wowed an unsuspecting public. You are now a promising new offering, deserving of attention and a spot in the hallowed playlists. But where to from here? Retreading the old ground, while feeling safe, gives little for the fans to be wowed by. Experiment too far in the foreign and you risk alienating your core. On the follow-up to 2016’s Self-Talk Olympia (Olivia Jayne Bartley) leans on the former more than the latter and while much of Flamingo feels like more self-talk, that's hardly a bad thing.
Album opener Star City sets the blueprint for the release, hard-rocking and rising to the occasion as a solid curtain opener. It rides an eighth note rhythm shared by the drums, guitars, bass and keys and this sense of steady movement is a recurrent theme. Olympia has said the album reflects a personal tragedy and the reliable rhythmic engine present on much of Flamingo feels representative of someone not wanting to slow down or stop in the midst of such an experience. She stated specifically that the album is “not about catharsis” yet the progress from start to finish certainly feels like the processing and releasing of a whole mess of emotions.
At times reminiscent of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Karen O at her most rockin’, Olympia’s searing and soaring soprano is the star of the show. It’s not all Easy Pleasure here, however and as the album moves into the second half the songs slow down and open up. Tracks like Nervous Riders and Won’t Say That eschew the pace but not the rhythmic motifs, allow space and ambience to fill the void.
Her lyrics are abstract expressions of popular ideas of love, life, sadness all with a dollop of sass on top. She paints in broad strokes, tight vignettes and clever one-liners, like the hook on First You Leave, where she sings “First you leave / then you go”. On Nervous Riders she spouts a sort of stream-of-consciousness as she says “fate slips and dives, it's not the fall that hurts but what could have been / compared to these worlds / these invisible horses leave us”.
Really though, it's less about the big pictures and more about the sound of the individual lines and words as she lifts them up to extraordinary heights with her explosive, unpredictable voice. If you’re looking for tight, tidy indie-rock songs lead by neck-snapping female vocals then this album could be for you. Olympia is not here to give us anything we haven’t heard before, from either her or other artists in a similar space. Yet she’s no slouch either and through Flamingo’s eleven tracks you feel as though she’s a woman on the move, whether you’re coming with her or not.
- William Tom.