It’s about damn time.
Four years have passed since Imogen Heap’s Speak for Yourself drifted through our speakers, and five years since a lot of us first heard her — or, rather Frou Frou — single-handedly push Zach Braff’s “Garden State” into relevancy with the song “Let Go.” Now, we finally get to see what Imogen Heap has to offer on her latest album Ellipse.
The album opens with the first single, “First Train Home.” Like most of Heap’s songs, it builds with a vibrant pulse, creating a sense of urgency as she sings “I have to get out of here,” followed by an eager chorus of “First train home/ I’ve got to get on it.” The idea of being excited to be with someone again is easily relatable, and though it’s hard to describe anything as perfect, this opener definitely starts the album on the right path.
Of course, Heap’s musical trademark — the endless layers of her voice, which Speak For Yourself‘s “Hide and Seek” exemplifies best — is gently infused into each song. Although some may consider this her one and only trick, Heap manages to find ways to incorporate this tactic without sounding old. That’s part of the beauty of her genre: Heap can act as her own backup singers (“First Train Home,” “Wait it Out”) or multiply into a powerful choir (“Earth”).
If there is one thing that has gone unchanged, it is Heap’s talent to craft songs with narratives we as listeners are not entirely privy to. Take “Little Bird,” for instance, which challenges listeners with lyrics such as “What can we do?/ A think tank think rescue/ Simon says, etch a sketch/ Send a golden message only he would get.” Although that makes little to no sense, it is the challenge to understand what she means that makes us appreciate her music even more.
Not everything on Ellipse is a hit, however. “Aha!” is audibly jarring with eerie accordion and a toy-like lullaby given a bend for the weird. For some (that “some” being anyone with a penchant for Danny Elfman), this may be a turn for the better. With willowy vocals reminiscent of a bad ghost in a white sheet, this number is one experimental effort that is thankfully only 2 1/2 minutes long.
Other highlights of the album include “The Fire,” a rare instrumental piece with that pairs a soft piano with the sounds of a crackling fire, and “Half Life,” which hauntingly closes the album.
With Imogen Heap, you either get it (and like it), or don’t (and don’t). If you happen to be part of the former, then this album will be a welcome addition to your collection. While an ellipse implies a motion coming back to the same point, we can only hope Heap continues to move forward, and maybe doesn’t take quite as long before her next release.
4 stars out of 5.
