Camille Delean wrote her sophomore album Cold House Burning during an extended period of social isolation before social isolation was a necessity. The resulting record feels as close as you would assume a record written in a contained space would be.
The warm folk-rock soundscape woven by Delean, co-producer and multi-instrumentalist Michael Feuerstack, Jeremy Gara (drums, piano), Mathieu Charbonneau (piano, synth), Philippe Charbonneau (vocals, synth), Joshua Zubot (violin) and Adam Kinner (saxophone), is heavy, sluggish almost, like how the days pass when you're alone. Every line Delean sings slowly crawls out of her like honey dripping off a spoon on its way to a cup of tea.
There's a touch of cabin fever induced confusion to Delean's lyricism: "Don't let me freeze under the sun in late July," she sings on "Fault Line (Late July)," and on "Birthday" she asks, "How many years have gone? Have we been here long?" But generally, Delean examines her feelings carefully on Cold House Burning, picking apart her pain and joy, and tries to offer herself comfort and encouragement.
Delean's methodical delivery challenges listeners' expectations. We have grown used to consuming media at a rapid pace but Cold House Burning directly contrasts hurriedness. "Medicine Morning" never strays from the steady, crashing drum beat, and "What I Lost In the Snow" similarly trudges along as the violin and saxophone flourishes carve out trails in the snow. By slowing things down, Delean weaves her mesmerizing spell.
(E-Tron Records)The warm folk-rock soundscape woven by Delean, co-producer and multi-instrumentalist Michael Feuerstack, Jeremy Gara (drums, piano), Mathieu Charbonneau (piano, synth), Philippe Charbonneau (vocals, synth), Joshua Zubot (violin) and Adam Kinner (saxophone), is heavy, sluggish almost, like how the days pass when you're alone. Every line Delean sings slowly crawls out of her like honey dripping off a spoon on its way to a cup of tea.
There's a touch of cabin fever induced confusion to Delean's lyricism: "Don't let me freeze under the sun in late July," she sings on "Fault Line (Late July)," and on "Birthday" she asks, "How many years have gone? Have we been here long?" But generally, Delean examines her feelings carefully on Cold House Burning, picking apart her pain and joy, and tries to offer herself comfort and encouragement.
Delean's methodical delivery challenges listeners' expectations. We have grown used to consuming media at a rapid pace but Cold House Burning directly contrasts hurriedness. "Medicine Morning" never strays from the steady, crashing drum beat, and "What I Lost In the Snow" similarly trudges along as the violin and saxophone flourishes carve out trails in the snow. By slowing things down, Delean weaves her mesmerizing spell.