Lungs
With one 13-song exhalation, British singer-songwriter Florence Welch unleashed her siren-call of a voice—and announced her arrival as one of Britain’s most singular modern-day talents—on 2009’s *Lungs*. Though the quirkily named Florence + the Machine was very much of the 2000s and became an instant staple of that era’s UK indie scene, the nature-loving mysticism and wordy lyrics throughout *Lungs* established Welch as more of a modern-day Fiona Apple or Kate Bush. Though released by a major label, *Lungs* feels curiously DIY—sounding almost like demos by your favorite local songwriter. But Welch was too talented to be playing in dark bars, and too angelic to be busking in her flowing dresses. The supersized emotions found on *Lungs* were born from the devastation of a breakup, one that’s examined and explored in often roof-raising alt-pop. “The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out/You left me in the dark,” Welch wails like a banshee on the monumental “Cosmic Love.” And on the suspicious “I’m Not Calling You a Liar,” as well as the gothic “Howl,” she steeps in the pain of lost love. Everything about *Lungs* creates an aesthetic, and a world, that feels witchy, dark, and sometimes unhinged, whether it’s the album’s mythic artwork, or the haunting lyrics on “Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up),” one of its biggest singles (“This is a gift, it comes with a price/Who is the lamb, and who is the knife?”). But *Lungs* is by no means a strictly ethereal record: There’s the bratty indie-rock of “Kiss With a Fist” and the sonically angular and downright lyrically creepy “Girl With One Eye.” What holds all of *Lungs* together, though, is a quiet femininity paired with a triumphant attitude when you least expect it. If there’s one moment to take and treasure from *Lungs*, though, it’s “Dog Days Are Over”—an anthemic, shooting star of a song. It’s a track that captures the overarching message of not just this otherworldly album, but also Welch’s artistic vision as a whole: the desire to confront one’s feelings—in fact, to roar at the sky about them—but to let that self-expression also be a work of art.
Unlike fellow quirky UK songstresses La Roux and Little Boots, Florence Welch moves away from the Lily/Amy template by building her career from the bottom up.
If you can get past your pre-conceptions of this album, there's plenty to enjoy here - a debut album full of great hooks and pop masterpieces.
After the sheer amount of hype (including a Brit Award!) that <b>Florence and the Machine</b> has been receiving for the past six months or so we were convinced that debut album <b>‘Lungs’</b> stood not a cat in hells chance of living up to it. We were spectacularly wrong.
Last year’s recipient of the inaugural Critics’ Choice award at the BRIT Awards was Adele, whose subsequent debut album tried to cover numerous musical bases to showcase her voice – and fell
<p>The songs are generally angry, with a nagging hook to keep you there, writes <strong>Sheryl Garratt</strong></p>
<p>Freed from her irritating live persona, moments here justify the hype, writes <strong>Dave Simpson</strong></p>
Florence and the Machine - Lungs review: A fantastic debut from a very promising British talent.
There’s a heart-pumping exhilaration to Florence and the Machine's debut album 'Lungs'.