flok – devizine.com

Salisbury acoustic singer-songwriter Rosie Jay released her debut EP today, taking its title from her first single from June this year, I Don’t Give a Damn. Thing being, I do, I give much more than a damn about Rosie’s musical outpourings, because this doesn’t sound like a debut EP from a nervous teenager warbling immature ruminations. This sounds like an accomplished artist who’s been with an agent, producer and mainstream record label for eons, and established a name for themselves by acquiring the skill to balance a hook and identifiable narrative, and compose them into a beautifully stylised sound….

Rosie’s been working with producer Joylon Dixon on these four tunes, and it shows. Likely a perfect match, for this is faultlessly fresh, like Kirsty MacColl in her prime; a comparison I’ve used before for Rosie, and though a high accolade, it’s fully deserved. For there is nothing to dislike here, the mood is breezy, the prose is thoughtful, both reaching out to her generation, while maintaining the classic template for acoustic folk rock for all to appreciate.

Beginning with her heartfelt breakup song, I Don’t Give a Damn, the opening has this easy to sing along to chorus, but defines the potent melancholic and ironic thought pattern of the victim of a relationship breakdown in its verses. Akin to Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2U, and just as expressly delivered.

For Rosie’s voice is magnetism, flowing gracefully and earnestly, but the whole composition suits this, perhaps with no better example than the second tune, also the second single released, Sing Another Love Song. As it sounds this is a flowing, more positive angle yet while there’s still a clever hook, in so much as McCartney’s ironic Silly Love Songs conveys the opposite effect.

If I preferred this song from the debut at the time, the next two, so far unreleased tracks, proves Rosie though beginning with a firm base, her songs will improve each time. Mind Fuckery is her magnum opus, but only to date. Isolation and affliction brought about by addiction is spelt out in the imperfections Rosie compares within herself and her generation. Again, we’re sneaking through an open door into Rosie’s mindscape, and it’s a poignant landscape of intense pensive and evocative prose.

The measure of a good singer-songwriter is when a listener feels like they bring a little subconscious of the artist back with them, the notion they identified and made a friend through their performance, as if they knew this person all along. I had been reviewing Rosie’s singles for a few months before finally meeting her. When I did, it was exactly like this, it felt as if I had known her for ages, because even at this young age she projects herself, her thought processes and emotions so utterly exquisitely through this beautiful music. The final tune, well, despite all that’s been before, Carry Me, is the most graceful yet.

The final song is angelic, and steeped in astute metaphors Rosie faces her “personal battle,” it is, just as the other three songs, an emotive treasure wrapped in sublimity. There’s something standalone in the simplicity of person with guitar; the stripped back diploma for a musician, the final exam, and Rosie passed with flying colours. She should be setting the exam rather than taking it! What an amazing start.

Just as I’ve seen the careers of profoundly talented local artists like George Wilding, Tamsin Quin, Kirsty Clinch and Jamie R Hawkins progress from first reporting on them, I have high hopes for many of our aspiring newcomers, from Ruby Darbyshire to Meg and Harmony. Rosie Jay is high among these others, and based on the excellence of this EP I see no reason not to compare her to the likes of Elkie Brooks, The Beautiful South or Cerys Matthews. You simply have to allow yourself a quarter of an hour to take this in, released on all streaming platforms and as a CD. Follow Rosie on Insta. TikTok. YouTube. There’s an EP launch party at the Winchester Gate in Salisbury, tonight.