Julia Cumming's solo debut introduces a more honest and laid-back version of herself

But now, her solo debut outing comes as an intimate re-introduction titled, simply, Julia. Since first gaining traction in 2015 as bassist and singer in Sunflower Bean, the 30-year-old would have been offended at the words “solo career”, all too content to be part of a bigger whole. But, some other part of her started demanding time in the spotlight recently. Among all the noise and bustle of band tours, she composed Julia, her instinctive answer to an excessively detached and sped-up world.

And indeed, the contrast between the guitar-led indie rock charms that is the trademark of Sunflower Bean, and the confessional, wide-ranging tone of Julia – an “easy-listening” record – is stark. It could be described as the soundtrack to a comforting night in alone after a stressful day, or a lovely date at a lounge bar in the chicest parts of the city, one that feels soothing on the surface, until you dig beneath the glittery melodies and discover vulnerable lyrics written by someone who does not take herself too seriously.

“My Life”, the opening track, sets the tone of this airy album. Almost a manifesto enunciating the reasons behind the project, her soft yet commanding voice puts it plainly: “I sing these words for me”. These diary-like entries function as the sole red thread to the album, like in the “Revel in the Knowledge”, sprinkled with those early days synths and bass from the 70s and early 80s, where she admits “One cannot be perceived”, or in “I Dream of A Fire That Stays Burning When Nobody Tends It”, declaring “Me and my worthlessness, we’re best friends”. This fear of perception that seems to follow Cumming is all too relatable at a time of over-digitalization, in which keeping up a persona serves as a survival tactic.

Teeming with similar rhythms, melodies and production choices, the record sometimes feels just a little too monotone, although honest, 70s-style lyrics delivered in a clear, melancholic voice bring some freshness to the typical jazzy soft rock of lounge bars. While the general tone of Julia brings to mind Olivia Dean-like pop songs, Cumming manages to set herself apart with songwriting reminiscent of “You’re So Vain”-era Carly Simon. The finale, “Forget The Rest”, is one of the songs that stand out. Julia Cumming demonstrates her finest work here; in a country-style piano ballad, she progressively sets herself free from other people’s expectations and demands, confidently setting her own path – in both the lower, warm, as well as her airy higher range. The message is clear: “cool” is out, authenticity is the move.