Self-proclaimed ice maiden
Sarah Nixey may possess the kind of crisp, English RP accent that makes
Sophie Ellis-Bextor and
Sarah Cracknell sound like unintelligible loudmouths, but as anyone familiar with her work with
Black Box Recorder will know, voices can be deceptive. While her detached headmistress tones may conjure up images of boarding school assemblies and social etiquette lessons, her second solo album,
Brave Tin Soldiers, deals with subjects so macabre that even
Nick Cave would turn them down for being too bleak. "Gathering Shadows," a gentle slice of melancholic pop with occasional bursts of hymnal choral vocals, is a heartbreaking murder ballad about a gun-toting father, the shuffling gothic folk of "Black Rose" recounts the tale of Betty Corrigall, the ostracized, unmarried 16th century woman who killed herself after becoming pregnant, while the Motown-tinged Baroque pop of "Silent Hour" addresses the 2010's spate of teen suicides in Bridgend. Although the album's lyrics may not make for easy listening,
Nixey's softly whispered voice and her organic self-production, which eschews the electronica of her debut
Sing, Memory, provide an enchanting contrast which ensures that the haunting stories are a little easier to swallow. "Love Gets Dangerous," the sole nod to her indie-disco past, is a curious fusion of
Morricone-inspired Spaghetti Western guitars and pounding house beats, the title track is a radio-friendly piece of retro lounge-pop which shows that
Nixey's fascination with the darker side of life hasn't prevented her from producing an infectious melody or two, while the stunning closer, "Frost at Midnight," opens with three minutes of understated, mournful acoustics before ending in a prog rock-inspired flurry of sweeping strings, crashing percussion, and gorgeous, dream-like chanting. Considering its story-telling nature, it's only fitting that
Brave Tin Soldiers should sound so cinematic, and indeed, its orchestral atmospherics would make the perfect soundtrack for the next
David Lynch mindbender. Despite its unsettling themes,
Nixey's sophomore album is still a warm and charming record which reinstates her position as Britain's most elegant chanteuse. ~ Jon O'Brien