On second album Mammoth, Flora Hibberd is more expansive but not yet exhilarating

Evocative and spacious metaphors were strewn across last year's debut full-length Swirl, which sketched an arc of connection and overcoming obstacles working to resist it. But as poetic as Hibberd's words can be, the songs only rarely let her writing emphatically leap off the page. Paired with softly lined indie-folk and light-touch Americana, with melodies that were often underwhelming, more spark in the music would have gone a long way.

A year later, Mammoth seems more willing to lock that spark in. Bringing in Ben Lanz (The National, Beirut) on production has certainly uplifted the arrangements, bringing new life to Hibberd's familiar folk side and new heft in the energised synth-pop excursions that she ventures into. Lead single “Mammoth” is perhaps the most exciting presentation of the latter, in which the galloping rhythms match her dynamic writing. “Why flee the feeling? / Does she not give her love?” she contemplates, with shuffling grooves and horns that emphasise the sense of something that's restrained but really shouldn't be.

More often than not, Mammoth's electronic additions work well with Hibberd’s mode of lyrical expression, elevating the songwriting where it counts the most. “Ache” is booming yet gentle, with glittery synths, gated drums, and soft backing vocals surrounding her desire to see a person through the facades they have constructed around them, while “Silent Movie Baby” is the album's animated standout, allowing Hibberd’s yearning to go to desperate places.

Where the folk leanings linger, the songs are altogether stronger this time around. “Shelley” invokes the spirit of poet Percy Bysshe Shelley in a call for creative assistance, cushioned with calming pedal steel and tasteful melodic cadence. The wandering reflection of creativity on “Perfect Ripple” has enough to captivate, too. Here, bleeping synths and the husky coo of Sufjan Stevens add chills to the warm instrumentation, before the electronics muscle in and commandeer the outro.

Still, as fascinated as the album is with expanding its emotional depth, the songcraft rarely feels like it's shooting for the stars. Tasteful allure can only take an album so far, as evident on weak points "Deltaplane" and "Dew Pond", which rely on polished-over textures to a fault.

Hibberd's singing, too, sometimes feels held back when the songs seem to want it to soar. She can deliver subtle tones, no question, but staying in her vocal comfort zone doesn't always work to serve the lyrics' heightened emotions. “Mythic Figure” is a prime example. As its sharp percussion line carries the chorus to a bigger finish, Hibberd tries to land that grand conclusion but instead her vocals struggle to meet it, retreating to familiar ground rather than going for peak evocative impact.

There's no doubt that Mammoth is a statement of bigger ideas that Hibberd aims to reach for, but it's hampered by a lack of real commitment and vocal creativity to get there. It does contain some truly striking songs, but not enough to cut through as well as she should and is clearly quite capable of. Perhaps it's just the stepping stone she needed to swing harder for the fences on whatever she does next.