Rachael Dadd – Elephee EP

Winchester may not be a common topic of interest, or a particularly well known town outside the South of Britain, but nevertheless during the Y Generation boom of the 1980’s it bore an alarming amount of talented musicians: amongst others, Frank Turner, This is the Kit, and lady of the moment Rachael Dadd all hail from the area. What devilry went on there during my childhood years is not known, but as Dadd’s new studio release Elephee confirms, we should all be grateful for it.

The EP begins with tall-tales of leather skin and giant limbs, and continues with a wonderfully vivid account of the singer-songwriter’s time spent, and experiences gained, between Britain and Japan. Unlike her previous effort Moth in the Motor, which was recorded live on the piano, Elephee revolves around the banjo and guitar, the two instruments Dadd plays in Whalebone Polly. The skill she’s acquired through years of practice is evident – the blissfully clear production is a welcome addition.

However, while Dadd is an accomplished musician in all respects, it’s her vocals that raise Elephee to its elated status: gentling sloping and calming the songs as though they’re the musical manifestation of a mountain range, surprisingly the lilt in her voice draws comparison to Niko. The results are beautiful: ‘Elephants Swimming’ tells of the “grace and beauty” at a “terrible trance party”, where Dadd witnessed a David Attenborough documentary. ‘Owl Ears Wait’ climbs to a crescendo and punctuates the feeling of delight that runs throughout; ‘Your Storms’ and ‘River Swimmers’ build upon the sensation that you’re floating.

There is no standout track; it’s a problem that tarnishes most of Dadd’s releases. Where she achieves a phenomnal sense of direction and complement, she fails to find the tantalising four minutes that have the potential to snuggle into your mind and overpower your memory. Although she comes close with final track ‘Knew Your Hands’, which explores the moment when you realise a relationship is perfect and whole, ultimately the track fails to resonate.

Having said that, it’s difficult to listen to this record without getting carried away with your thoughts – it’s inspiring, spellbinding and most importantly an excellent example of accomplished penmanship. Forthcoming album After the Ant Fight may deliver a better experience yet, but in the meantime it’s important not to forget the understated treasures Dadd is capable of creating.