“A Hand Full of Hurricanes”
One Little Indian
Rose Kemp wanted nothing more than to distance herself from her parents’ roots in folk music. With her debut, “A Hand Full of Hurricanes,” she couldn’t have done a more complete job.
Dense and pointedly abstruse, this England wunderkind is clearly not just looking for easy hooks. “A Hand Full of Hurricanes” goes for something new and different, something that’ll stick with you long after it ends. And just like the effort she’s putting in, she expects a little effort from her listeners too.
Full of unsettling textures, “A Hand Full of Hurricanes,” if anything, is a statement of individuality through musical daring. Fans can choose from a variety of moods. There’s the grungy folk of “Little One,” filled out with rock’s bombast and softened by violin and cello before closing in a staccato barrage. Tracks like “Violence” and “Metal Bird” feature Jekyll-and-Hyde dynamics with a lot of space built in.
Other compositions take the temerity even farther. Besides the voluminous reverb of “Orange Juice,” there’s the creepy and resounding “Skins’ Suite” that’s aided by unusual instrumentation, namely “kempophonics.”
Kemp will probably never be remembered as a singer foremost, but the austere “Sister Sleep” demonstrates the haunting power of her voice.
With “A Handful of Hurricanes,” Kemp shows keen insight beyond her years. Keep expecting the unexpected with her.