The Well is the debut album from Étáin, an Irish singer-songwriter who now calls Edinburgh home following a stint in Glasgow. The title refers to a literal well from her childhood home in Co. Leitrim that would be refreshed each year, inspiring a sense of cyclical rebirth that aligns with the way her writing process also needs care and attention to avoid getting stuck in a rut.
Étáin’s deeply personal lyricism brings you quickly into her world; one of small details that recall moments of sadness, elation, despair and cautious hope for the future. She mostly sings in a hushed whisper, evoking Elliott Smith or Leigh Nash. The arrangements are often sparse, with plaintive violin punctuating the softly plucked acoustic guitar, giving the lyrics nowhere to hide. The album hangs on their strength and the best songs hit with striking precision at just the right moment, like the emotional rug-pull in ‘The Color of the Skies’, an otherwise contented number: “Loving you feels like I’m finally home / Loving you felt like I was home.”
Sometimes the songs are a little too vague or predictable to really land (‘Raining in Glasgow’ or ‘Last of the Light’), but when Étáin hones in on a specific feeling it’s impossible to look away. The best example, and the album’s standout song, is ’12 Woodlands Avenue’, a conflicted look at her childhood home, one so full of love, so full of trauma. The imagery is lived-in and the details so clear, you can see her wandering through faded memories and struggling to reconcile them. And she also lands another knockout blow with a devastating final line: “The drive home is not too bad / Maybe that’s because…it’s the last.”
Much of the album is spent unpicking the remnants of a relationship and the moments of ambiguity and contrast capture the irrational way we process that kind of loss. The cascading keys and rambling percussion of ‘combustible!’ are at odds with the desperation that the narrator feels, while the inner monologue of ‘Moments of Nothing’ asks directly: “Am I happy? Or am I lonely?” However, the lyrical obsession does get a bit trying by the end (even the titular pal in ‘Friend of Mine’ seems a bit over it), so it’s a welcome surprise to have a final song in Gaelic. Despite the odd English interjection (“is there any way out of here?”) that hints that maybe this isn’t the happiest of endings, the overall effect of the language change is one of confidence and warmth, regardless of message.
Étáin is clearly an overthinker and perfectionist, traits that can inspire great creative works when channelled properly. The Well has a few lulls that fade into the pleasantly ephemeral background, but the many high points show what she’s capable of when the stars align. Let’s hope another break-up isn’t needed for album number two.
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