If Jess Ribeiro can make a dud record we’re yet to see it. On this her third album, the darker, Australian gothic reverberations of Kill It Yourself are mostly gone, Ribeiro appears to be moving towards pop to detail the life cycle of love. Ribeiro’s first two albums, My Little River (2012) and Kill It Yourself (2016) received a great deal of critical warmth but not a lot of exposure. The first was a dark acoustic folk-blues record with a minimum of instrumentation. Kill It Yourself, produced by former Bad Seed Mick Harvey, added strings and percussion, but still, the songs stood almost alone.
That they did is a testament to Ribeiro’s talent. But whereas those records are sepia-toned, Love Hate is an all-electric technicolour lunge towards pop, backed by guitarist Jade McInally and drummer Dave Mudie (the latter a member of Courtney Barnett’s touring band). The results are vibrant and clearly aimed at introducing the Melbourne singer-songwriter to a bigger audience.
A mess of emotions fuse together within love and hate, and Ribeiro has the scope to tackle all of them. Love Hate starts with the excitement and tension of a new crush, moving down through lust and contentment, anger and grief, detachment and acceptance. Each is examined through Ribero’s killer lyrics and an almost dissociative cool that only magnifies the peaks and troughs.
It’s not a strictly autobiographical album, but it is very true.
Named after opposing ends of emotional states, Jess Ribeiro‘s third album is however dedicated to extrapolating the in-betweens and nuances on which relationships can be built.
There are haunting shades and enticing textures which throw light on the side glances, sweaty palms and nervy awkwardness we sometimes wrestle with when a deep connection strikes.
Guitars waver and warble before joyously lifting off in ‘Stranger’, there’s the pulsing pensiveness of ‘Chair Stare’ and the expectant beat and sinewy synths of ‘Young Love’ make for a heady hormonal haze. Ribeiro easily jumps from sounding forlorn to alluring, from devotion to dejection, but always able to spare us a sly wink of the eye.
At all points LOVE HATE feels like a collection of characters and their tales of romantic intrigue told with a cinematic eye.
The bright spangles of guitar that burst through the dream-pop haze of opener (and single) Stranger, indicates Ribeiro is out to get your attention. Produced by New Zealander Ben Edwards, who has worked with Aldous Harding, Marlon Williams and Julia Jacklin, Love Hate is arguably more immediately arresting than any of their records.
