When you hit that point, and you will, of realising you know less than you had thought, that flood of emotions is tough to handle. For some, it will be the chance to start fresh, to push on with a hope of truly learning what we thought we had. For others, it’ll be all too much to overcome, and that’ll dog them for the rest of their lives. Both are valid reactions, and Delaney Bailey does well to cover both on Concave, an album that asks of us what we know, and what we really know. It’s all too easy to get lost in ourselves and how we’re perceived, especially at a time when every move is made for some online sphere of influence. Disconnect from that, reconnect with the lived-in experiences, the actual moments which can be pulled from as a learning period are what can be heard on Concave. It’s as honest and open an experience as you could ask for from any songwriter, and Bailey rises to the challenge. Staggering singer-songwriter potential is on display the whole way through Concave.
Warmth is everything to a tone as harsh and as confrontational as the one found through Concave. Opening track, How To, is a call for listeners to find comfort in that repetition and routine, though like everything, the balance of breaking from it matters. A sudden end, an instrumentally strong sense to where Bailey will take the next track, Far Away, and the indie folk style is bolstered. Fresh instrumental choices, a heavier focus on the indie side of these singer-songwriter pieces, it’s a run of charming work which prises at deeply rooted memories. Dislodge those and be free, that’s very much the ambition of Concave, one it achieves well with songs like Far Away. What we convinced ourselves of, those thoughts we have of being as grown as we will be, is a shocking, strong stand-off with what many may feel. Not feeling it yet? Just wait. There’s a crossroads to reach for everyone that Concave completely nails. An album built on what we learn from ourselves when we thought we had nothing more to learn.
Beyond its meaning, though, are some sharp singer-songwriter capabilities from Bailey. She has a knack for setting the right tone, finding a suitable tempo, but also throwing caution to the wind. Any artist who can find the comfort and the chaos, blurring them together as certain, considerably risky instrumental choices do here, is worth paying attention to when they tell you there’s more to learn. What Concave relies on above all is the depths Bailey can bring through her voice. There are plenty of musicians with a strong voice, but how Bailey moulds hers to the deeper grooves and haunting instrumental pangs of Wither, it’s the best in class for the recent crop of singer-songwriter releases. Retainer has such an incredible heaviness to its guitar, a depth to the percussion and drums which back that question Bailey poses. Is this really it? It’s simple but how effective it is to those who need to hear it is utterly crucial.
Plenty to learn from, and plenty to grow from for Bailey on Concave. Crucial to the purpose of undoing what you think you already know is accepting there is, no matter the plan or projection for the future. Concave is a constantly evolving powerhouse of an album. Its latter stages are built on the merit and honest reflections of Nightshade and Baby Dream, two essential listens that only reinforce the points Bailey wants us to take on. Unravel what you think you know and you’ll find you know very little at all. Major reckonings to be had with Concave, but once you’ve had them, if you have them, you’ll be much better off. It’s a sentiment that has got to be backed with not just confident instrumentation and a strong vocal line, but lyrical purpose. Bailey has plenty of all three, and it makes for a remarkable listen.
