At 31, Julia Jacklin has managed to secure herself as one of Australia’s most well-known singer-songwriters with just two albums. Blending folk and indie rock with equal parts irreverence and sincerity, Jacklin’s music usually painfully excavates her inner anxieties. On her third album, ‘PRE-PLEASURE’, this neurotic approach to her relationships are surveyed, all to ask: what does all this analysis and effort result in?
Perhaps what’s most interesting about ‘PRE-PLEASURE’ is its thematic insistence of restraint and caution. In an era where we’re actively encouraged to disengage with discomfort, Jacklin is determined to cling onto these moments. On ‘be careful with yourself’, you can feel her hover between her competing desires: “Please stop smoking, want your life to last a long time/If you don’t start smoking, I’ll have to start, shorten mine.” Her silky voice pairs wonderfully with the crunchy guitars, a tactic also used in the chorus of ‘love, try not to let go’.
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Indeed, the first half of the album contains wonderfully lucid and nuanced writing that demonstrates why Julia Jacklin has become such a beloved songwriter. ‘ignore tenderness’ contains some of the punchiest verses in Jacklin’s catalogue, as it documents her complicated relationship with her body and sexuality against fragmented rhythms. “Right when pleasure begins, my education creeps in,” she deadpans. Meanwhile, ‘lydia wears a cross’ experiments lightly with some drum machines; Jacklin contrasts the reverence of religion with its oft imperial visage, struggling to find much substance underneath.
Though much of Jacklin’s lyricism balances the introspective with the sardonic, ‘PRE-PLEASURE’ suffers from a sludgy mid-section. Jacklin’s voice is gorgeous, but the quiet, plodding nature of songs such as ‘less of a stranger’, ‘moviegoer’ and ‘magic’ means the songs have little chance to stand out. It’s a disservice to their lyrics, especially the touching ode to Jacklin’s mother-daughter struggles on ‘less of a stranger’. Luckily, the album picks up again with its closer, ‘end of a friendship’, which makes use of Owen Pallett’s orchestral arrangements to provide a cinematic flourish.
Jacklin’s style remains as endearing as ever, but ‘PRE-PLEASURE’ seems to live up to its title a little too well. Whilst there are some bright gems for Jacklin fans interested in her ability to be vulnerable and confessional, there seems to be a whole lot of build-up – and not a lot of climax.
7/10
Words: Alex Rigotti
