Review: A Hand Full Of Hurricanes – Rose Kemp

Rose Kemp is no stranger to the big bad world of indie. Being the spawn of Maddy Prior and Rick Kemp (both of Steeleye Span fame) and part of numerous projects and side projects, sheâ??s certainly lived an â??educativeâ?? 21 years. It comes as no surprise then that as a sophomore effort A Hand Full Of Hurricanes serves up something far more mature than her age would suggest.

Pedigree aside, Kemp has the wherewithal to hold her own among the likes of seasoned players like PJ Harvey and Liz Phair. The influence though is sometimes more than obvious. Itâ??s a tough line to walk especially when itâ??s blurred by song progression that one could almost blatantly substitute with either artist. So where then does Kemp stand her ground? Put simply, she sings from the gut. Itâ??s a heady brew of heartfelt and bold themes that she executes with flourish and invigoration. Here too there is the fear of overdoing it and basically, trying too hard, and on more than one occasion she takes the listener for granted. But she saves herself the blushes with a confidence that is hard to find among many of her contemporaries.

Her songwriting complements her vocal style in a way that is not quite unique but is still, surprisingly refreshing. She usually wavers at the beginning, catching her step as the song builds into a crescendo supported well with clever instrumentation. On the opener, â??Little Oneâ??, she clearly falters at the start, almost fumbling her way through the first verse. Slowly however, she manages to deliver an almost Karen O-ish like falsetto, packing a mean finale to what would otherwise have been a mediocre beginning.

Thematically, she moves easily from standard relationship type stuff to abstract angsty and moody feelings about circumstance and situation. Itâ??s a venerable buffet of subjects that thankfully doesnâ??t get boring. A lot of this has to do with the instrumentation which is experimental in a Hail To The Thief sort of way. Choppy riffs are combined with thumping beats which manage to take Kempâ??s guttural vocals just that one level higher and add to the intensity of the record. And just as you think youâ??re getting used to one thing, she throws in a brilliant a capella number in the form of â??Sister Sleepâ?? to throw you off balance once again.

Intensity is her forte. Songs like â??Dark Cornersâ??, â??Violenceâ?? and â??Morning Musicâ?? take full advantage of Kempâ??s tsunami-crash style of songwriting building up on a wave of guitars and string arrangements. When sheâ??s woeful sheâ??s emphatic, displaying in full form her strength as a performer. â??The stupidest thing Iâ??ve ever done/But it was so much funâ? she sighs on â??Violenceâ??. Then, without as much as a warning, launches into a guitar heavy helicopter of an instrumental chorus on what is an out and out post-Rock blast of a single. Sure itâ??s almost standard stop-start type of stuff, but her veracity and confidence is gripping enough to give the construction its own unique place.

Consistency is her catch though. The album starts well and one can almost â??feelâ?? the raw, clenching rip of her voice as she moves from whisper to shout without much effort. But just as fast as you can say â??Damn, thatâ??s better than Regina Spektorâ??s last record!â? she shows signs of weakness. Take the exaggeration of vocal on the almost self-effacing â??Tiny Flowerâ??. Instead of sounding engaged in conversation with the listener, Kemp flounders haplessly and ends up paying tribute, very poorly, to Amy Lee. Now before you go â??Eurgh!â? do note that itâ??s a mistake she makes more not than often and like â??Tiny Flowerâ?? these errors are the shorter songs on the record (â??Tiny Flowerâ?? clocks 1:38).

Kemp, essentially, is faced with a dilemma that catches most artists whoâ??re trying to find their feet. And the dilemma is just that â?? finding her feet. The moments of spark and shine on this record, though overshadowing the blushes, can just as easily be called influenced as opposed to inspired. The question Kemp really needs to ask herself is â??Am I making a Rose Kemp record, or am I making a Rose Kemp record?â? However, given the weight of her own eccentric creativity, itâ??s just a matter of time before she manages to make an indelible mark in a terribly cluttered scene.

â??I lost my best songs in my sleep when I was thinkingâ? croons Kemp on â??Morning Musicâ??. Itâ??s a pity, â??cos if sheâ??d stayed awake, this record wouldâ??ve been a classic.

Indiecision: B+

Listen to Rose Kemp on MySpace.