Opinion Review

Ruby Gill: Older

Sometimes, and if you’re lucky, often, persistence and passion will drive an artist to produce an unfathomable extension of themselves. An unintended stumble across such can prove to be intoxicatingly endearing, chantingly captivating. Now, imagine such determined efforts within the relatively short span of two years. Enter “Older”, Johannesburg-based songsmith Ruby Gill’s debut full-length, a convey dissimilar to any other. 12 distinctively emotive, fierce, vulnerable and consistently earnest palpitations, segregated into 2 contrasting-in-temperament parts, although with the exception of dynamic and texture, both intrinsically endure a universal conviction of love found and torn.

The A-side of “Older” employs an aggressive, relatively cut-throat temperament of explosive choruses, an intricately-layered array of synth and challenging, complex drum patterns (a typical but necessary, impressive and progressive contribution of Mike Wright of Zebra & Giraffe). With an undercurrent of Gill’s renowned, inherently heart-stirring piano motives, opener ‘Fault’ addresses the vigorous fragility of self-doubt and blame within a quarrelsome relationship. Inclusive in follow-ups ‘War’ and ‘Gravity’, Gill’s affirmations on the push and pull, consuming and influential nature of affinities is not limited to her profound lyricism. Musically, an unprecedented electronic, energetic and hostile disposition is reinforced in timbre and dynamic.

Both relatively amicable although relentlessly upholding robust introspection, ‘Cassiopeia’ and ‘Cinnamon’ experiment with beautifully-woven harmonies of confrontation, hope and exuberant folly, with the former encompassing the underestimated power of relative simplicity. The latter’s rhythmic-folk-esque character leans the listener into a beautifully-timbred, falsetto-drenched encounter with inauthenticity: Can you see through all that cinnamon?”, insinuating the false blinding of routinism before diving neck deep into the album’s catchy, synth-driven title track. “You made me old where I thought I’d grow older with you”, expresses Gill. Filled with elaborate hi-hat movements and an ethereal array of keys, the A-side’s closer effectively progresses the album from massive hooks to the sultry, delicate hymns of side B.

As stated in our recent interview with Gill, “Sometimes [life] is achingly acoustic and stripped and empty, and I couldn’t denounce that.” The skeletal, unguarded but ardent B-side is predominated by a shallow but simultaneously dense dynamic of the writer and her piano. Gill’s spherical, unwavering whispers and screams effortlessly captivate anyone willing to listen. The emotive, staccato piano strikes in ‘Missing In Japan’, the endearing movements of despair and empowerment portrayed in ‘Dear Sir’ bearing a striking resemblance to Ingrid Michaelson in the bridge’s “Are we sinners?” choral backdrop, and the warm comfort of minimally-layered ‘Stockings For Skating’ and ‘Follow Suit’. Per Gill on the latter, “It’s melting as they button up their shirt and brush their teeth, unaware of their own significance.”

‘Autumn’, the penultimate track, just may be the songsmith’s most delicate but fierce piece yet. With a dynamic-varying piano accompaniment dependent on Gill’s temperament, the listener is withdrawn into a journey of reminiscent, engulfing love, turned conflict and resentment to hope and reconciliation, all in the metaphoric ebb and inevitable flow of heart-wrenching references to the lifespan of autumn leaves: “You were a couple of seasons, an unfinished song, like autumn leaves, you moved along.” Closing with a more vulnerable variation of her defiant, debut single ‘Winter’, Gill leaves the listener with one thought: “Would you let me go if it wasn’t cold? Am I yours to hold only when it snows?”

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Listen to “Older” on Deezer.