Sophie Jamieson – ‘I Still Want To Share’ album review: poetic lyricism and narrative unpredictability
THE SKINNY: “I think what holds this record together is the idea of attachment rather than love,” Sophie Jamieson explains. “The clinical, less romantic nature, the ugly nature, but also the very human nature of that.” Throughout I Still Want To Share, Jamieson delivers spine-tingling vocals set to the backdrop of tentative, almost folk-leaning self-reflection, offering confrontational musings through the lens of heartbreak, uncertainty, and longing.
While many tracks carry similar blends of melancholy and blissful relief, each incorporates the right dosage of poetic lyricism and narrative unpredictability, reframing memories and experiences many could view as mundane in an entirely new light. In Jamieson’s world, each featherlight touch, brush of morning light, and trips to the local drive-ins become canvases for romantic expression, even when the relationships themselves are far from perfect.
However, that’s precisely the appeal of the record. Instead of concerning herself with perfectionism, she leans into her own flawed characteristics, crafting vivid stories from a heart that doesn’t know much more than how it longs to feel whole. Beyond the enticing themes she incorporates lies her gorgeous vocal delivery, which, even during moments when the songs dip in intrigue, carries them through to the next section, like waiting for a soft ocean wave to crash in and take you away once more.
Pinpointing or drawing any definitive conclusions from I Still Want to Share isn’t just difficult—it’s entirely beside the point. Jamieson emphasises the power of confronting ideas, thoughts, and experiences, even when we don’t feel prepared for them. This emotional confidence, coupled with the ethereal arrangements, creates added richness and textures, the kind that doesn’t rely on embellishments to make an impact.
For fans of: Soft acoustic soundtracks and wallowing in the dark with a chamomile tea.
A concluding comment from my grandma: “Did it finish already? I fell asleep. Had some lovely dreams, though.”
I still want to share track by track:
Release date: January 17th | Label: Bella Union | Producer: Sophie Jamieson and Guy Massey
‘Camera’: As luscious as a summer breeze, Jamieson begins I still want to share with tentative gorgeousness, as though she is finally releasing a long withheld breath or facing up to a subject she hadn’t realised she was ready to address. Or perhaps its beauty comes across in her trepidation, like someone who isn’t sure about their own directness, appearing all the more raw and authentic for it. [3.5/5]
‘Vista’: With subtle notes of both delicacy and tension, ‘Vista’ coasts the line between melancholy and blissful relief, with meticulous accompanying notes that enhance its simplicity. Jamieson recalls different events that may seem monotonous in the context of our mundane, everyday thinking, but her poetic expression makes harmless drive-ins and late-night talking seem like moments of immense introspection. [3.5/5]
‘I don’t know what to save’: Setting a subtle but delightful change of pace, ‘I don’t know what to save’ spotlights the extent of Jamieson’s impeccable vocal prowess, underscored by background guitar licks that feel akin to floating ever closer to an existential epiphany, no matter how much it feels unwarranted. [4/5]
‘Baby’: There’s a singer-songwriter folk tinge to ‘Baby’ that highlights Jamieson’s unique lyricism, her melodies driving the narrative with poetic twists and turns that make everything feel all the more unpredictable. With this track, the singer embellishes her own artistic license, making the entire atmosphere feel like a daydream that could end at any moment. [3.5/]
‘Welcome’: More confident in its own solemnity, ‘Welcome’ charges head-first into Jamieson’s own melancholy, taking its time with delicious rhythms and cadences before delivering a powerful crescendo and entering a more experimental realm. [3/5]
‘Highway’: Like a sweet, sobering, disillusioned morning, ‘Highway’ pours out like dawn light bleeding into an empty room, sluggish in its speed though headstrong in its downbeat sentiment. Another track showing off Jamieson’s unparalleled vocals, ‘Highway’ lingers like a featherlight touch, epitomising the short-lived and tentative nature of the singer’s artistic expression. [3.5/5]
‘I still want to share’: Many tracks on this record present Jamieson as an artist vulnerable in her own flaws, with songs like ‘I still want to share’ laying her inner, most complex musings bare, with more lyrical twists and turns that show everyday experiences in a completely new light. [3.5/5]
‘How do you want to be loved’: Capturing the nature of attachment versus love, Jamieson utilises heavy and grounded arrangements to distil her interest in emotional complexity, especially when it comes to romantic relationships and how we can often misconstrue the fabrications we embellish in our minds instead of believing or divulging in what’s directly in front of us. [4/5]
‘Your love is a mirror’: With stark honesty, ‘Your love is a mirror’ tackles uncertainty and dishonesty and how, more often than not, they can consume the entire basis of a relationship, displacing what was once real love. While the song sounds like the many that came before on this record, something about its delicacy keeps you listening, wondering whether there is much more to say—which, of course, there is. [3/5]
‘I’d take you’: Bringing the album to an effortless close with the more uplifting ‘I’d take you’ feels like a soft, crooning lullaby, offering a little respite from the deeper moments of reflection that define the rest of Jamieson’s beautiful record. [3/5]
‘Time pulls you over backwards’: In what could only be described as her most accomplished vocal delivery, ‘Time pulls you over backwards’ feels far more confident than when we first started out, offering a more refined and forthcoming execution than the earlier tracks, presenting a dynamic range of emotion and control that underscores her growth thus far. [4/5]
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