Lush with horns and keys, Natalie Prass’s self-titled debut album is a classy and deeply retro take on heartbreak. But rather than use Memphis players, like Cat Power did for her landmark 2006 album The Greatest, or even her own Nashville neighbours, Prass holed up in Richmond, Virginia, seeking out Spacebomb, the house big band-cum-studio of country soul wizard Matthew E White. Prass’s assured voice, one that packs both flutter and muscle, is caressed and challenged by the arrangements, which are never short on groove. Last seen playing keyboards for Jenny Lewis and supporting Angel Olsen, the 28-year-old Prass sounds nothing like a debutante, and everything like the finished article; her album is released on 26 January 2015, accompanied by her first-ever London show the following night
When Bjork recently spoke about the tendency to credit men with the genius of a woman’s art, she could have been looking straight at critics about to write about the fantastic debut album from Natalie Prass. Over nine songs, Prass shows a range in songwriting, from anthems to confident R&B burners to whimsical prairie folk to theatrical grandeur. It is the debut of a songwriter not struggling to find a voice, but fully formed and confident as all hell. She makes knowing nods to Joni Mitchell, Lesley Gore, Diana Ross and Joanna Newsom, all while seeming natural and instinctual. She is the product of her influences and still original.
The Fat Angel Sings 