The Sampler: Billie Eilish, Yola, Bobby Gillespie & Jehnny Beth

Tony Stamp reports back on the second album by bedroom pop artist and global superstar Billie Eilish, Brixton by-way-of Nashville musician Yola’s blend of soul and country, and a collaboration between Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie and Savages’ Jehnny Beth which finds them playing divorcees.

Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish

Billie Eilish is nothing if not self-aware. Look no further than the title of her new album, Happier Than Ever, which sees her gazing out of its cover with tear-stained cheeks.

She hasn’t quite left her teens yet, but her star has been rising for at least half a decade. Which, when you’re nineteen, probably feels like a very long time. There’s a sense of resignation to this album, the feeling that fame is something she has no choice in, but has to live with.

First track ‘Getting Older’ is hyper-literal, outlining normal teen problems alongside those of a global superstar. It has a handful of eyebrow-raising lines, about stalkers waiting outside her door, and the key lyric, “Things I once enjoyed, just keep me employed now”.

I was reminded of a moment in the documentary “The World’s a Little Blurry” where Eilish explodes and says she hates writing songs. The documentary also shows her as a keen fan - of Justin Beiber specifically. For that reason she’s shown as very attentive to her fanbase, so it’s interesting to hear that dynamic start to slip.

‘Getting older’ also features a great chorus hook, a reminder that beyond all the elements of the Eilish mythos, she and her brother Finneas do write great songs - songs that appeal equally to teenage pop fans and aging indie kids like myself.

Titles like 'Billie Bossa Nova' - flippant and a bit silly - I think speak to her age, but also the lack of studio interference. Her first album was recorded in Finneas’ bedroom at their childhood home, and while they relocated to his new basement studio for this one, the intimate vibe remains.

Generations of home recording artists developed a certain sound - whispered vocals, quiet playing, in the box programming - because they couldn’t afford recording studio fees and had to make do. For the Eilishes, it was a choice. That choice informs her distinct vocal style - remarkably soft, but still full of character, and her trademark vibrato.

The first album had moments that felt like undiscovered gems from the 1940s, given a twenty first century makeover. Here there’s more diversity, I think, elements of hip hop, pop, jazz and acoustic balladry. And on tracks like 'Your Power', a bit of everything.

The minimalist production on that one - a dub bassline, subtle percussion - seems like Finneas’ sweet spot, and I think all these personal touches are what sets Eilish apart from her peers. Even more than say, Lorde, or even Kanye West, her and her brother’s idiosyncrasies find their way into the music.

As a nineteen year old woman who generates headlines just by changing her hair colour, Eilish has publicly grappled with ownership of her own image. I think it’s a deliberate choice to end the album on a song called ‘Male Fantasy’, that finds her watching pornography, disapprovingly.

Happier Than Ever is made up of a whopping sixteen tracks, and while there’s plenty of diversity, I do feel like Billie and Finneas are covering some of the same ground as the last album. That’s to be expected, and the more aimless nature of it is also classic second album territory. 

Its most intriguing moments come when she’s transparent about her fame, like the song ‘NDA’, where she talks about buying a secret house aged seventeen, and having a boy over who she made sign a non-disclosure agreement. It strikes me that the curse of fame is a good fit for Billie Eilish. It’s great fodder for her sad songs, and those songs will keep her in the glare of the limelight for the foreseeable future.

Stand For Myself by Yola

Music will sometimes have a physical effect on me. Certain chords or pointed lyrics will give me goosebumps. Sad songs can make you cry. A good rhythm can take over your body. A few weeks ago I put on an album by an artist I was completely unfamiliar with, and as soon as the first track started playing I felt myself instantly calm down, and get on her wavelength.

The song was ‘Barely Alive’, and the incredible voice behind it belongs to a musician called Yola. Born in Bristol, she relocated to Nashville in the 2010s. Prior to that she’d been a jobbing musician for some time, writing songs and singing for other bands. She’s performed with Massive Attack and Bugz in the Attic, and even backed up Katy Perry.

Dan Auerbach from the duo The Black Keys signed her to his label, and has produced both her albums. Her first, Walk Through Fire, earned her three Grammy Nominations, including Best New Artist, where she was nominated alongside Lil Nas X, Lizzo, and Billie Eilish, who won. 

Yola’s second album is called Stand For Myself, and as its title suggests it’s all about empowerment. Album highlight ‘Dancing Away in Tears’ is a breakup song, but its disco groove is so warm, and Yola is so open hearted, the effect is downright blissful.

That song feels like a miracle; a perfect confluence of elements. The playing is light, Yola’s voice is vulnerable, but it’s so amicable and wise about the nature of relationships. There’s no venom. Life’s too short.

That perspective maybe comes from Yola’s age - she’s 38, hardly an ingenue. Getting to this point in her career has been hard won, and she’s rightly outspoken about that in interviews. I read one where she made a point of saying she got to choose who she collaborated with on this album. She said “the idea of having choice, having consent, all of these things are what autonomy is”.

That journey to autonomy, and the benefit of hindsight, seem to inform the slinky cut ‘If I Had To Do It All Again’. 

Yola and Auerbach worked with a roster of veteran session musicians, and that informs the classic sound of the album, and allows the songs to move fluidly through genres. This is a soul album, but one with a hefty chunk of country in it - Yola is based in Nashville after all. The appearance of twangy guitars caught me by surprise at first, but pretty soon it all makes sense.

I don’t think Stand For Myself is a seamless album, but a handful of its songs are among my favourites of the year. I find those tracks downright transportive, bringing my heart rate in line with Yola’s generous worldview.

Discovering an artist whose music so precisely channels her personality is an exciting thing, and hers is one I find hugely appealing. She’s obviously phenomenally talented, but that isn’t a guarantee of success. Hers is hard won, and we all get to enjoy the results.

Utopian Ashes by Bobby Gillespie & Jehnny Beth

When Lorde released her comeback single 'Solar Power', people were quick to note its similarity to ‘Loaded’, the iconic track from 1990 by Scottish band Primal Scream. An exchange of public statements followed, with Lorde acknowledging the similarities and calling Primal Scream the "spiritual forebears of the song", and that band's singer Bobby Gillespie saying they were “really, really flattered”. It was a very wholesome outcome to a potentially tricky situation.

Coincidentally, this year Gillespie released his first solo album, in collaboration with French singer Jehnny Beth from the band Savages. It finds both artists staking out new aural territory, and making it their own.

There’s a cinematic sweep to opening song ‘Chase It Down’, and appropriately, this album is a fiction. Called Utopian Ashes, it has Gillespie and Beth playing divorcees, making every song a sort of bittersweet duel between former lovers.

In reality both are in separate long term relationships, which makes the roleplay here even more impressive. The album goes through different phases of separation - Chase It Down represents a sort of immediate panic, helped by that stabbing string section. Those strings form a pillowy backdrop on Remember We Were Lovers, as the pair look back fondly on their time together.

This is an album with plenty of accoutrements - that track also sports a honking brass section, which adds to the feeling of celebration. It’s also fitting for an album drawing on vintage influences like Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra.

Gillespie’s band Primal Scream are best known for beat-driven psychedelia, and Savages are all about post-punk fireworks. Their vocal styles are essentially the same here, but musically this is different terrain, and they compliment it well - Gillespie’s drawl feels right at home, wearily roaming around the notes. Beth can soulfully wail with the best of them, and she does here in moments of high emotion. But she’s just as effective delivering a buttoned down murmur. 

Utopian Ashes feels like a real gamble from both artists, and it’s pleasantly surprising that it works so well. Worlds away from their bands’ respective output, it’s wistful, yearning, and eventually content; the story of two lives being separated over the course of an album.