
Recommended tracks: “Wake,” “My Full Name,” “Best of Us”
Similar artists: Flyte, Margaret Glaspy, Aoife O’Donovan
Having won the 2023 Grammy for Best Folk Album for Revealer, there was plenty of anticipation for Madison Cunningham‘s followup solo album. Ace is a highlight of Cunningham’s talents as a songwriter and composer with her imaginative and ethereal writing techniques being taken a step further than any of the singer’s previous work.
In its composition, the album relies heavily on live instruments with the additions of woodwinds, strings, and some brass showcasing the early folk inspirations that the producer draws from. Each song asks when it’s time to leave something that’s long been broken and how to do so, without once seeming repetitive or unimaginative. This only further emphasises the talent shown on Ace.
An instrumental starts off this album with “Shatter Into Form I,” breathing the rich and dark piano that is the focal point of most of the album. The piano melody swirls into controlled chaos with a suddenly fast melody, which seemingly comes to a close before fading into “Shore.”
Cunningham’s imagination comes alive in “Shore” with the live band, strings and woodwinds creating an ethereal but sporadic sound. The song is filled with infatuation as Cunningham explains “when you turn your head my way / I feel myself again.” Yet, the verses suggest that this infatuation stems from insecurity as the producer compares two people: one with a “smile rich in acres” and the other a “nervous girl.” Cynicism laces the lyrics with the line “I’m out of my depth,” hinting at the sad ending.
“Skeletree” has a livelier band sound with guitars, drums and an organic build of energy in the chorus. The drum accelerates and piano pulses as the singer stresses that she’s “Got to move, got to make it out alive.” A contrasting free-flowing string melody is not exempt from this rush with the shift to vibrato in the song’s bridge. In the final third of “Skeletree,” the EQ shrinks as a rhythm guitar leads the sendoff.
By the time we reach “Skeletree,” it becomes clear that the long song durations are mostly taken up by the instrumental outros, which often shift the entire song’s tone. While this doesn’t necessarily impact any of the songs on the album overall, I wonder about the intention of some, which seem to be there purely for the sake of being there.
Compared to the opening trio of songs, “Mummy” is much more restrained with the additions of some electronic elements. A song about trying to decipher how a longstanding relationship falls apart, each verse goes back to childhood in an attempt to pinpoint where things went wrong. Cunningham’s lyrical ability to paint a vivid scene is seen at its best in “Mummy,” with the descriptions of domestic violence piercing the second verse: “Learned to shift your weight / Away from glass.” The album opener is also referenced in this song with Cunningham comparing the divorce to a “shatter into form.”
The piano is much more present in “Take Two,” as the ballad opens with “You know I’m afraid / To write a simple song.” The electric guitar gives the song nice edge and a subtle shift from the previous songs, signaling a more vulnerable tone. There is a tragedy in the last verse, where glimpses of a happy past sneak through the cracks of heartbreak: “And the people that we were / Make no promise of return / But appear every now and again.”
The single of the album and its only feature is the simple “Wake,” which features Fleet Foxes. Overlaying guitars and a hollow bass with some plucked strings are reminiscent of 1970s folk, with the inspirations of Joni Mitchell and Janis Ian loud and clear. Lyrically, Cunningham uses vast imagery to build on emotional weight describing her thoughts as “thunderclouds / Keeping aircraft on the ground.” Without once ever having to explicitly state an exact emotion, the singer-songwriter is able build a colourful world of feelings for listeners.
In a contrast to the acoustic “Wake,” “Break The Jaw” starts with a droning noise with the singer’s voice sounding distant to make the song feel like a lost thought. The return of strong percussion and rhythmic guitars in this song give a forward-falling pace thats starts to build to a crescendo. In the reckoning of a heartbreak, Cunningham angrily declares that “I put my weight in your arms and I fell right through.” This anger is reflected in the strings, which switch from tense plucks to chaotic swaying in support of the singer’s turmoil.
“Invisible Chalk” is a reference to crime scene chalk, showing the body or person who is no longer there. Cunningham uses this as a simile to “preserving your memory” of a person that you can never seem to shake away. The return of a singular guitar and restrained instruments still holds some unrest in their melodies, especially at the midpoint.
Similarly, the following “Shatter Into Form II,” holds a controlled chaos and Cunningham’s outlook seemingly changes. The instrumental interlude has a similar melody to the album’s opener, but the addition of a vocal melody suggests the transition into act two of the album.
The second half of the album takes on a lighter tone, emphasised by the softer piano and breathier vocal delivery. In “My Full Name,” the cello takes on the role of the anchor with the lighter instrumentation taking up less space. The flute that decorates the mix in the second verse keeps the continuity from the first half of the album whilst still sounding different.
“Golden Gate (On and On)” takes on a more exciting energy that was missing in the middle of the album. An electric guitar keeps up the airier tone of the second half with sporadic instrumentation invading the second verse. In the chorus, deeper backing vocals contrast to the verses’ light sound as Cunningham is sick of singing the same song “on and on.”
The full live band makes its return in the last three songs, starting in “Beyond That Moon.” There is a slight dissonance in the content of “Beyond That Moon”‘s lyrics against the instrumentation. While the band sound is measured and controlled, there remains some confusion in Cunningham’s message as she’s accepted that she needs to let go but still states, “You know I’d do anything / To hold onto you.”
“Goodwill” toes the line between fantasy and delusion, with the songwriting only adding to the unclear switches back and forth. The repetitive “sometimes I think you will” makes you wonder how much of the love in this album was all in the singer’s head. But, it remains clear that this devotion still consumes her with the line “I’m seconds from expiring / And your fire is big and inspiring.”
To close off Ace, Cunningham keeps the energy down and lyrics large in “Best Of Us.” As always, Cunningham puts emotional connections on simply insignificant scenarios. The line “Feasting on our envy / Never getting full” encapsulates most of the album’s themes of destructive and zealous relationships. As a finishing song, “Best Of Us” gives the band one last time to let it all out as the bridge builds to a crescendo before the song finishes.
Ace shows what happens when an artist comfortably perfects their craft. Madison Cunningham is able to transform simple stories into intricate worlds through her well thought-out lyricism whilst remaining grounded through her live and lush instrumentation. In the folk revival of the 2020s, Madison Cunningham shows how staying true to the history of folk doesn’t have to sacrifice creativity or innovation.
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