Katherine Priddy – These Frightening Machines Review 

Katherine Priddy remains a reliable folk-pop songwriter with her third studio album, These Frightening Machines. No wonder there has been a folk boom in the United Kingdom; those electronics are terrifying. Between the tranquil scenes depicted by Chris Brain on Red Sun Rising to the calmer waters steered through on Katie Spencer’s What Love Is, the common theme across these works, and the genre, is escapism. Not from thought or feeling, but from the always-connected, online feeling. These Frightening Machines is not a call to head from digital to analogue, but to nothing at all. To retreat not out of fear but in defiance, and Priddy has an exceptional voice for such a tone. What separates Priddy from the rest of the very capable, exciting folk scene is the instrumental form. These are not tranquil tones trying to ease a worried heart, but a call to arms that more need to hear. These Frightening Machines operates with pop fundamentals at their heart, adapted well to a genre which has, historically, been a voice of change for many.  

Priddy has thrown her voice into that and comes across well on These Frightening Machines. Opening song Matches is that call to arms those well-versed in protest music will recognise immediately. A generous, instrumentally rich ten songs is what Priddy offers. Her vocal range is still as inspired and exciting as it was on The Pendulum Swing. It is stronger here, if anything. Sirius incorporates some flashy new instrumentals, subtle additions which back the fundamentals. Acoustic guitar, a strong vocal lead, and a sense of purpose right at the heart of these lyrics. Crucial to this latest Priddy release is the consistency. Instrumental variance and the occasional lyrical change-up, it’s all there and floats along well. These Frightening Machines does not lose sight of the standard set by previous album, The Pendulum Swing. There are moments far lighter here than on the second album, but Priddy doubles down on a few risks she took last time around, and it works. 

Those softly spoken gems, Madeleine in particular, are the very best Priddy has to offer. Magnificent and moving in equal measure. It’s the deft hand that deals those emotional blows that matters most of all. Priddy maintains that sensitivity not by tugging at a listener’s heartstrings but by bringing stories to life that are both relatable yet deeply personable. These Frightening Machines is a contemplative, calming album with a host of heartbreakers buried within. Priddy leaves the best of her work to the end of the album, with Table Four a song that’ll leave anyone running from their hometown hell utterly floored. To move on and up is the right course of action and to hear how those roots can never be severed is a moment of clarity that comes only from the best songwriters.  

These Frightening Machines rips us away from those electronic devices filled with fear and hate, instead planting us firmly on steady ground. Even when Priddy tackles the big and brutal topics of homesickness and heady days spent with the wrong people, there is a calmness and understanding lingering in the background. We learn and grow from those moments and that’s exactly the sort of tone Priddy offers across These Frightening Machines. A judgement-free exploration of how we may detail and understand our past. It’s a nice touch from the folk singer, whose discography gets stronger the longer she chips away in the studio. Exceptional work as ever, but parts of These Frightening Machines really go beyond what was expected of a third album project.