Soft, dynamic and multidimensional.
Flora Hibberd doesn’t come back on the scene with a bang. Instead, she flutters in on a cloud of synthesizers and peaceful whimsy.
According to Hibberd’s Bandcamp, the album’s characters occupy the past, present and future. She lists animals encyclopedically, every couple of lines naming another, slowly building a zoo of fabulous fables. From a tiny fly on the wall to the dramatized mammoth, their mythological stature only deepens the album’s mystique as each song progresses.
This mystery is best understood in track 3, “Perfect Ripple,” when Hibberd sings “It gets so lonely at the hundred-years cafe.” Supported by Sufjan Stevens’ backing vocals and the occasional trumpet, the song contains a depth that cannot be mass-manufactured. The intricacy it adds to the album is invaluable, providing a thoughtful period of reflection after the preceding track’s upbeat energy. Hibberd even calls this to listeners’ attention in that very track, “Silent Movie Baby.” A tune about needing peace, quiet and isolation, it contradicts itself with its vivacious tone. As the track concludes, its wish for serenity is granted, which allows listeners to ease into the introspective atmosphere of “Perfect Ripple” with ease and grace.
The laid-back tone continues with “Deltaplane,” but it’s unfortunately not executed in as meaningful a manner. While no one aspect of the song falls flat, most pieces struggle to make their mark, which leaves the song feeling incomplete and unfulfilling. It clearly has potential to be great, but that potential is yet to be realized.
The opposite can be said of the following song, “Mythic Figure.” It immediately opens with an inviting and exciting piano and beautifully layered vocals. As Hibberd sings about angels walking among us, her alluring tone makes it hard not to take her at her word.
The title track, “Mammoth,” sees the return of the fabled horns, and with it comes a slow but ever-bright descent to the end of the album. “Shelley” blends beachy seashells with gothic Mary Shelley imagery, sewing two very different worlds together with the practiced hand of a weathered seamstress. An upbeat Beach Boys-esque tone serves Romantic lyrics that could’ve only been written by an impassioned poet.
Hibberd’s “Mammoth” is far too cheery and warm to be anything like the Ice Age, yet it manages to be just as memorable. Its ups and downs ebb and flow without any awkward transitional stages, and its vivacious one-of-a-kind quality leaves a mark like a kiss on a napkin never to be thrown away.
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