At first listen, Pixie Geldof’s debut album seems an unremarkable affair. Recorded with producer Tony Hoffer and backed by David “Beck’s dad” Campbell on strings, it’s a collection of restrained, drifting, faintly orchestral pop that occasionally recalls country music, bluesy 70s rock and 90s dream-pop outfits like Mazzy Star (one track in particular, Twin Thing, is an impressively convincing replication of that Californian group’s gorgeous sound). Mostly, though, Geldof’s music is too understated to be redolent of a specific time, place or genre – something that ends up being one of its many charms. Opening track Sweet Thing exemplifies this appeal: based around a faraway Stone Roses-style riff with doomy, vaguely folk-pop overtones, the absence of aggressive hooks or sonic quirks makes way for old-fashioned, subtly-building melodies that imbue her songs with a balmy, slow-burn beauty. Meanwhile, Geldof’s personal, but also very public, trauma informs her lyrics in poignant but typically underplayed style.
