It was worth the wait for this warm, considered writing with perfectly judged music and production.
Six years after AUK described her first offering as “deceptively simple… an exceptional debut”, Lucy Kitt returns with a second album of which much the same could be said. She mixes Laurel Canyon with 90s acoustic indie, a voice not a million miles away from The Sundays’ Harriet Wheeler, and chiming guitars borrowed from Robin Guthrie, she builds as personal as her often introspective lyrics. Opening song ‘Blink’ veers towards the indie, while the more strident ‘Waiting Game’ adds a country tinge to a song Stevie Nicks would have been more than happy with. That song also points the way to the direction her lyrics have taken, being penned during lockdown for friends struggling with mental health.
After over 20 years of writing and performing, she has assimilated her influences into something all her own. It’s clear from the early songs that her writing has evolved since we last heard from her as well. The Pandemic, a baby and a recording process that slotted around life and took 2 years from 2021-2023, make for a more considered approach and outcome. The album was put together at London’s Lightship 95 studio, co-produced and engineered by Dave Holmes, with musicians contributing remotely from Nashville and London.
Kitt says that “the songs on this record are like a collection of stories. Stories that I have experienced, and also from the perspective of other people in my life. Many of these songs were written about friends and family that have been through hard times.” The album title track, with its weeping pedal steel from Nashville’s Spencer Cullum, demonstrates the shift to a more personal narrative writing style. In this case, it was written about someone close to Kitt going through a difficult relationship breakup.
‘Lonely Rose’ is one of the album highlights. The piano and flute change the dynamic to a more folk-rock sound, drawing out one of her best singing performances. This would be a radio hit if there were still such things, and sets Kitt amongst the best of our singer-songwriters alongside the likes of Hannah White. ‘Sweet Time’ follows a similar pattern, bringing back the chiming guitar and pedal steel to fill out a quite lovely ballad.
Authenticity is important to Kitt. “I have always retained my authentic self in my songs,” she says. “Always singing with my own accent, despite the influences of all the bands and artists over the years.” That authenticity comes out in all aspects of the album, from the home photo on the cover to the warm, natural feel of her music. One advantage of the long-term project that ‘Telling Me’ became is that there are no songs included to fill out the record, and each note has been made to count. ‘Like This’ is another quieter song, with a lyric which looks at a collapsing relationship with clarity and a stark honesty. Spencer Cullum is definitely the album’s most valuable player and contributes another pitch-perfect part to the song.
The latter third of the album contains some of the highlights. ‘Without Her’ offers the sort of big ballad which Nerina Pallot does so well and squeezes a lyrical and musical masterpiece into less than three minutes. ‘Missing Out’ is a theme song for the Instagram and TikTok generation living their lives through a tiny screen. She closes the album with ‘Resting Blues’, a tribute to a beloved friend who passed away, just Kitt and an acoustic guitar.
2025 has produced a number of excellent singer-songwriters’ albums, from names far starrier than Lucy Kitt. But this is a timely reminder that looking beyond the names you know to listen to someone who can only be called criminally under-recorded often finds gems. This is one of those gems – don’t miss it in the rush towards Christmas.
