There is a sorrowful sexiness to Julia Jackin’s second album. The Australian’s songs are personal and full of detail, but also accessible and universal. Take the lead track, “Body,” which has this passage: “I remember that time you took my camera/Turned to me, 23, naked on your bed looking straight at you/Do you still have that photograph?/Would you use it to hurt me?/I guess it’s just my life and it’s just my body.” The vulnerability of that moment, the risk of having been playful once…It’s a crisp image on an album full of pictures. And feelings, like “Pressure to Party,” about getting over a lost love: “Meeting a stranger, touching his face, I don’t anyone to ever take your place.”
And she’s not the underdog in every song. “I don’t know how to keep loving you now that I know you so well” has Jacklin in the power seat, breaking up with someone who wasn’t quite what she thought they would be. And it’s such a humorous way to express such a sad thing. Like “You know it’s bad when the family flies in, just to stand by your side…” Who can’t relate to that?
The sound is updated folk–folk with electricity and edge. Her voice is distinct, unique, and haunting.
This is a powerful album. Highly, highly recommended.