In 1938, Cyril Connolly, a critic, lamented in his book Enemies of Promise that the presence of a pram in the hallway stands as a formidable adversary to quality art. This suspicion was initially held by Natasha Khan, although she found that motherhood illuminated her deepest inner spaces, leaving her simultaneously drained and invigorated, and bringing about a heightened sense of creativity.
Khan’s discography’s sixth entry, under her stage name, Bat for Lashes, is perhaps her most profound creation. In it, she explores the myriad roles encompassed by the ‘mother witch’ archetype, from the guardian to the celestial, expressing angst at our declining respect for tradition. The title track is an exhilarating incantation that oscillates and ascends, enriched by layered vocals that emulate a tender sigh. The track expands as it proceeds, featuring a harp played by Mary Lattimore and strings by Jake Falby that provide a steady rhythm, like a timekeeper who never loses guard. Further sound embellishments enhance the overall illustrious ambiance, a trait that has always featured prominently in Khan’s work.
Khan describes her album as an anthology of ‘song poems,’ and there’s something genuinely poetic about this collection’s theme, which seems both ‘timeless and cosmic.’ This is evident in Christmas Day’s melancholic piano tones and in the captivating melody and tempo of Letter to My Daughter. The wavering murkiness of At Your Feet, accompanied by its lullaby-like piano melody and synth bass, is quite heart-rending, as is the unexpected harmony of The Midwives Have Left with its delicate piano and drone noises.
The heartbeat-like rhythm and ghostly piano in Home accentuates Khan’s vocals. Breaking Up bears an uncanny resemblance to Desire as per Noah Baumbach’s interpretation—with its seductive saxophone; it transports us to candlelit midnight spaces filled with contemplations of promises broken and possibly the end of a relationship or an existence. Delphi Dancing blends Italian sounds with English pastoral-folk, creating a unique aesthetic. Her First Morning spotlights the piano among the shimmering soundscape. Waking Up seems like a contemplation on envisaging future scenarios while remaining present, enhanced by a melody that imitates a sonic waterfall combined beautifully with Khan’s voice, unarguably the supreme ‘song poem.’