
At times though, Nash veers closer to her indie roots. Starting gently and building towards a spoken-word ending over strings, the epic Don’t You Wanna Share The Guilt gives more than a passing nod to Be Safe by her boyfriend’s band, The Cribs. “I don’t know how more people haven’t got mental health problems,” she begins, before her cockney vernacular becomes more frenzied.
Meanwhile, Pickpocket is a bit Regina Spektor, the fairly pointless I Just Love You More, is screamy and shouty in a Pixies way and the aggressive, sparse Mansion Song is almost rapped. “Strip, strip, strip and shag/Fuck, get fucked,” Nash snarls in her scathing attack on groupie culture. Its delivery is a bit cringe-worthy in a friend-insisting-on-reading-you-their-poetry kind of way, but it’s nonetheless bold and interesting.
This coming together of radio-friendly pop and edgier indie makes for a somewhat schizophrenic outcome, but regardless of whether that leaves something for everybody or not enough for anybody, Nash’s personality remains strong throughout and there are some brave intentions within her storytelling.
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