A sweet amalgamation of folk and pop, Greta Stanley’s debut album is the sound of autumn lazily drifting over the back porch, a blissful haze of soft expositions and the quiet opening of hidden pockets of emotion.
Stanley comes from a small town – Mena Creek – and it was here that her creative vein was tapped before she began the shuffle to the relatively medium smoke of Cairns and the Victorian touring circuit.
It’s a small album, much like Maudie is a small film, and it’s imbued with the easy mussed up bedroom charm of someone who’s spent a lot of time in there, ruminating and steadily creating in an effort to understand what the world is all about and how to communicate her personal experiences and thoughts.
Though the lyrics range from the tortured to the euphoric-“I remember thinking you were nervous And that’s why you didn’t say much But you were just drunk “(Drunk Dreams) “I can hear your thoughts inside mine” (Orange) “In the wind that cuts like a blade to the bone My hair spread out like the thoughts that I own” (Hurricane Brain) “I see my Mother in the mirror, now more than ever” (Full Grown) -there’s a beautifully romantic musical approach that threads through, making palatable some of the darker, edgier stuff.
Dreamstate is exactly that, a gorgeous, sleepy pulse of a song that drifts just behind the eyes, while Spin Around takes you in its arms and takes you on an endless slowdance.
Recorded in a manner that captures the soft, hush of her voice as if whispersung in your ears, Full Grown is a gentle journey that sparkles like that autumn light filtering through those trees.
Musician, actor, singer, music reviewer, Phil’s interests cover a lot of bases and this is reflected in the music he writes about. From blues to soul, ambient to electronic, Phil writes about artists he feels are interesting, true to their craft and worthy of your ears.