Lotta St Joan - HANDS (2021)

“From here on truth”, Lotta St Joan promises in the opening track Stay Home Child, reeling the listener in with her warm, deep voice that resonates with the heartfelt wisdom of the folk queens that came before her. Her debut album ‘Hands’ is doused in sweetness and coated in charm. It’s the reflective album that you hope will soothe you on a dark winter night until you realise you’re bawling your eyes out instead.

The Berlin-based singer-songwriter recorded the album at home, playing most of the instruments by herself in the middle of the night, taking advantage of the temporary silence outside. It wouldn’t have been possible to preserve the warmth of these songs had they been recorded in a professional studio – the hiss, the room tone, and Lotta’s whispers all add to the feeling that she has just walked into your bedroom to read you her diary.

Her conversational inflections draw attention to her most vulnerable lyrics. “All those hands/ still warm on my bare skin/ I wonder/ are they ever gonna leave me again?” she asks in a hushed tone in Hands. In Oh Boy, the fingerpicked guitar swirls around the thick vocals and the understated lyrics: “It’s late in fall/ And I’ve done nothing/ but think of me/ All summer long”. But after the first few songs, the songs grow increasingly more disturbing.

In Faces, the sound of Lotta’s breath and the haunting vocal floating through the air make the hairs on your neck stand up. In Mirrors, the inner turmoil is disguised by the gentle guitar and Lotta’s sweet voice, broken up by the spoken word, and that final line: “For you/ I’d kill again/ In that same old dying flame”.

The melancholy reaches new heights in Unfiltered, which is a fitting title for this lyrical stream-of-consciousness. The droning piano foregrounds the words, and places the listener inside Lotta’s head, with her deepest, rawest thoughts. “I’m so gross/ There’s no reason for you to stick around/ I know I’m not enough”, she sings, and the repetition of the last line breaks your heart with its relatable clarity. Until the piano goes quiet, and Lotta says to the silence: “And you say you thought I was the love of your life/ But I’m still here/ I’m still here/ I’m still here”.

On the closing track Flowers, Lotta sings: “I think you’ve had enough”, addressing the listener as much as herself – deciding that her willingness to be broken open has bounds after all. The melody has a hopeful warmth, and it’s the only song on the album to feature drums. The backing vocals recorded by Lotta herself sound playful, as she’s addressing her inner child, promising that “Tonight my child it’s you and me/ laughing about time”.

At the start of the album, Lotta promised the listener truth, and she delivered, holding nothing back. It’s a melancholic trip through the grieving process of love lost, but it ends with some newfound confidence that sparks hope at last. Despite the heaviness of emotion on this record, the tenderness and compassion that Lotta’s songs evoke leave the listener feeling healed and understood, wondering what will be next on this artist’s journey.