Naima Bock – ‘Below a Massive Dark Land’ album review: best at its most basic

Posted On September 26, 2024September 26, 2024

THE SKINNY: When Naima Bock left Goat Girl back in 2022, she was feeling dissatisfied. Despite her old post-punk band going from strength to strength, it is no surprise. Since then, the artist has revealed her true musical power and revealed that it lies in folk. On her second album, Below a Massive Dark Land, that point is proved once again as she shines brightest when the natural atmosphere of her voice is largely undisturbed.

All the best moments of beauty on this record come in its simplest, sparsest form. It’s at its best when Bock’s voice stands alone and then is slowly joined by subtle instrumentation, as if the guitars, harps and horns are almost in the listener’s imagination. It’s at its best when the levelling up in the composition perfectly matches the levelling up of emotion that’s being projected by Bock’s voice like she’s singing out a film scene of feeling and the band around her is a soundtrack; perfectly placed and delicately added as a finishing touch or a sparkle on top rather than the whole thing.

But then the record is at its weakest when that becomes too heavy-handed. There are moments where it forgets that the true jewel here is Bock’s voice; its natural lilt, the way it manages to portray so much feeling like a mere note could bring a tear to the eye. It’s one of those miraculous folk voices that feels imbued with power in its softness, the same kind found in the voices of Vashti Bunyan, Linda Perhacs or contemporary voices like Jessica Pratt or Katy J Pearson. It’s reminiscent of the haunting, cinematic quality of traditional folk songs used in folk horror films, as those old-timey voices just seem to have a story built into them. But for that power to come across best, it needs to be left alone.

Or it needs to be slowly surrounded. There are moments where the band gently joins and builds that feel impactful and rousing. But then, on songs like ‘Kaley’ or ‘Age’, suddenly, the listener is met by a big, loud band, and it feels jarring. It bursts the bubble of the record somehow, preventing it from feeling as immersive and captivating as it deserves to be.

Perhaps it’s just a case of the tracklisting. If these bigger moments came as a kind of climax that the album built towards, it would probably feel far more impactful as the peak of an emotional journey. Instead, the emotional power held in Bock’s talent is lost as the listener is left feeling thrown between different sounds with not much to grip onto to sturdy themselves. There are moments of incredible beauty here where things are simple and stunning, but even they become hard to hold onto as the album loses track of what makes it great.

For fans of: Folk horror films that aren’t too scary and have brilliant costumes.

A concluding comment from Bock’s past self: “So I guess you really are post your punk phase now, huh?”

Below a Massive Dark Land Track by track

Release Date: 27th September 2024 | Producer: Jack Ogborne and Joe Jones | Label: Sub Pop

‘Gentle’: The most gorgeous piece of pure folk that’s been heard in a while. Bock launches into this new album is haunting beauty, with her voice flawless amongst a delicately crafted musical nest that swells but leaves just the right amount of space for the feelings evoked to have room to breathe. [4.5/5]

‘Kaley’: The jump between tracks one and two throws it off slightly as ‘Kaley’ is suddenly louder and bolder with a full band beginning. It’s great to prove Bock’s versatility, but the shift is almost too stark, as if the tracklist couldn’ve done with a bit more consideration for consistency or the listener’s journey through. [3/5]

‘Feed My Release’: Because after that sudden moment of boisterousness, it’s dropped again to return to stripped-back folk. All of it is gorgeous, and there is a level of continuation as the horns that filter into the tracks attempt to tie them together, but when Bock’s voice is so feeling full, it would have been nice to have been taken on more of an emotional adventure as the tracks roll on. [3/5]

‘My Sweet Body’: The sparsity of this song’s opening is stunning. It’s staggeringly beautiful, making it criminal that a voice this heavy with folkish feeling was once hidden away in a punk band. This is where she shines best, with a subtle yet cinematic instrumental that only serves the power of her voice. [4.5/5]

‘Lines’: This is a perfect example of what I mean by longing for more of a journey. When ‘My Sweet Body’ fades out and the build of ‘Lines’ comes in, it’s impossible to resist the goosebumps. [3.5/5]

‘Further Away’: As the album began as a simple thing built in a shed of a studio, it always sounds best when allowed to exist in that raw form. ‘Further Away’ is a great example of that, as the simple verses are gorgeously basic but are then boosted by the delicately added sprinkling of extra instruments and bolder compositional details. [3.5/5]

‘Takes One’: At certain points on the record, there’s something almost twee about the songs, whether intentional or not. It’s like Belle and Sebastian’s modern melodies meeting Vashti Bunyan’s classic folk spirit. Maybe that’s what makes a song like this one somehow feel oddly catchy despite it’s resistance to any cliche and commitment to the record’s sonic world. [3.5/5]

‘Age’: Similar to ‘Kaley’, ‘Age’ feels like it stands out like a sore thumb. It’s not that it’s out of place as such, as Bock’s voice continues to lead listeners through, but these moments of full band boldness feel like they come with no warning, somehow making them feel slightly jarring. [3/5]

‘Moving’: A real highlight. Once again, the record returns to its simple and gorgeous core, where the added horns at the end are a sparkle added like a perfect finishing flare that only serves the song rather than crowding it. [4.5/5]

‘Star’: Gorgeous closing remarks that sound like a folk lilt that would have been heard decades or even generations ago, ending with a cinematic goodbye of harmonies. [4/5]

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