Aldous Harding is a polarizing presence in the alternative rock scene. To her loyal fans, who have ensured she will perform three consecutive nights at London’s Barbican later this month, she is an enigmatic and endlessly intriguing artist. Her lyrics often resemble cryptic puzzles waiting to be deciphered, akin to dreams in need of interpretation. On her latest album, “Train on the Island,” listeners are prompted to grapple with imagery involving naked owls, faces covered in béchamel sauce, a silent John Cale consuming rice, and lines like, “I’m saving myself by eating rocks and plants / I pray for the incel.”
Harding’s artistic choices—strange album artwork, an unsettling stage presence, and quirky costumes—coupled with her odd dance movements in music videos and her distinctive vocal mannerisms, make her stand out in an era that often favors conformity. Her singing style features notable vocal tics and playful accents, especially evident in tracks like “Worms” and the album closer “Coats.” Her interviews are often characterized by a hesitant and fragmented style. For her fans, these traits signify genuine originality in a world that can feel homogenized.
However, there are those who find Harding’s approach unbearable or overly self-aware. As New Order’s Bernard Sumner once remarked about another band, some might view her as “a little bit We Are Weird.” Whether one finds Harding’s eccentricity appealing or exasperating is subjective; opinions about authenticity in artistry vary widely. Nevertheless, “Train on the Island” undeniably showcases her prowess as a songwriter.
Musically, the album does not diverge significantly from her previous works, such as “Warm Chris” from 2022 and “Designer” from 2019. Produced again by John Parish, a longtime collaborator of PJ Harvey, the album features contributions from multi-instrumentalist Huw Evans, known as H Hawkline. It comfortably resides within a warm, gently psychedelic soundscape, ranging from the sparse folk of “Riding That Symbol” to the electronic nuances in the opening track, “I Ate the Most,” reminiscent of a more subdued Radiohead from the “Kid A” era. The overall ambiance is cozy and languorous, contrasting with occasional lyrical hints of mental struggles and medication. The use of pedal steel and harp enriches the sound, particularly in the closing moments of “What Am I Gonna Do?” while the songs are primarily driven by acoustic guitar and piano. Although not groundbreaking, the album offers a welcoming space for listeners to immerse themselves in its ten tracks.
The most remarkable aspect of these songs is not their oddity but their concise and tightly constructed nature. Even the longest track, the title song, which surpasses five minutes, avoids any sense of indulgence. The songs, while episodic, maintain focus and present impressively sharp contrasts; for instance, “One Stop” and “San Francisco” shift unexpectedly from hypnotic piano motifs to vibrant, acoustic guitar-driven refrains. For those less inclined to dissect the lyrics for deeper meaning, the songs shine through as vehicles for beautiful melodies, such as the key-shifting “Coats,” the enchanting duet “Venus in the Zinnia,” and the sharply defined “What Am I Gonna Do?” As the languid “Worms” unfolds, it’s challenging to envision even the most critical detractors of Harding’s idiosyncratic style being entirely unmoved.
For those who embrace the mythos surrounding Harding, the album offers much to contemplate, including lines hinting at neurodivergence and reflections on her relationship with her mother, who was featured in the music video for her 2017 single “Horizon.” One lyric seems to address listeners eager to decipher her meaning: “I’m only riding that symbol,” she sings. “No one knows what I’m into.”
However, delving into the mythology is not necessary to appreciate the music. At its core, “Train on the Island” offers a more straightforward experience than one might anticipate. Harding emerges as a melodically gifted singer-songwriter, delivering subtle yet engaging music. The appeal lies in its uncomplicated pleasures, which remain evident despite the surrounding eccentricity.
Ashnymph – “Island in the Sky” offers a danceable yet slightly disconcerting experience, layered with a gritty texture that does not completely obscure a sweet melody. The band continues to carve out their own unique niche in the music landscape.
