Sometimes it’s hard to keep going. I obsess that what I do has no point whatsoever in terms of importance. I have a basic need to create things, for my own sanity’s sake, that lives outwith what anyone else thinks. So on that note, I’m googling myself (yes, I admit it, it’s natural, and shame on you if you deny you do such things) and I come across a review from the Skinny for “I write letters…” which came out almost 2 years ago. So at the time, this had been a particular sore point for me, as I felt that this great supporter of local and especially indie/self-releases/small labels, had completely ignored my efforts. I know you shouldn’t focus on these things, and it bears no relation to reality, but when you’re working from the confines of a cupboard, you do spend a bit of time wondering what the point is if what you’re left with is a giant suitcase of unsold albums restricting access to your piano pedals. It’s easy to see media silence as even more negative than a bad review, then you’re in this downward spiral of middle-of-the-night syndrome where everything is against you and there are witches at the end of the bed with cold sweaty hands and graspy dirty fingernails trying to get hold of your feet and pull you under. And you wonder why so many of the people creating music around you don’t seem to have witches at the ends of their beds.
So, dear reader, it’s been a real boost to recieve some praise today, even though it’s two year old praise. Sometimes you just need a leg up. And I’m sorry that I thought those bad things. Here’s the review:
Returning with her third long-player I Write Letters I Never Send, Edinburgh-based multi-instrumentalist Emily Scott builds on the success of 2009 sophomore LP abcdefg, introducing further depth to her fragile folk with a trio of violin, viola and cello, showcasing a canny knack for string composition.
From her first offering, As A Pattern, Scott creates a whorl of emotion with this new-found sound, over her trademark trill of harpsichord, double-bass and piano, elevating her brand of folk outwith the reach of the many of her contemporaries. Leading us through the poetic assignations of London Plane and Down to the Sea, to the aptly named closer Comforting, it proves hard to step away from her reflective, genteel world. With I Write Letters I Never Send, Emily Scott has delivered a rather stunning album on her own unflinching, understated terms. If less truly is more, this may be all you need.
In other news, as I write there are all day musical celebrations for Eid in the back courts, I love my new neighbourhood for this fresh sound injection, expect it to filter into my songwriting. We went to see Ela Orleans last night at the slightly-too-cool-for-moi-but-there-was-very-good-beer-to-be-had CCA last night, and she was beautiful and original and full of grace. Praise be! And I have the delightful prospect of my sole Edinburgh Festival experience to come, Patti Smith and Philip Glass, possibly with a restricted view/ knees, but praise be nonetheless!