Julia Jacklin is an artist of dualities. Over her decade-plus career, the Melbourne singer-songwriter has examined the question of how to be both vulnerable but protected, spiritual but grounded.
Her second studio album and commercial breakthrough, 2019’s Crushing, introduced her to an international audience as an introspective storyteller. Rich in detail, Crushing delivered tales of heartbreak and betrayal with a kind of quiet impassivity, setting the scene for her own duality as an artist – at once open and reserved.
In 2022 Jacklin turned even more inward with Pre Pleasure, examining the impact of childhood religion on her sexuality. The sound often contrasted these complicated ponderings: these were big, bold songs more obviously influenced by modern pop, chimes and all.
The musician’s fourth album, The Gem, finds its place between these musical and thematic worlds. God is, again, a recurring theme – Jacklin grapples with the tension of “how to feel free with someone watching over me”, as she sings on track five, Angel Vision. She shifts the perspective by imagining herself, or a loved one, in the almighty role.
The second track on the 10-song album, God Sometimes, describes the necessity of taking control of your own destiny, whereas If I Had the Hand of God takes the opposite approach, with Jacklin wondering if being all-knowing would actually change anything at all. Hope and hopelessness blur into a singular kind of surrender.
Jacklin’s eye remains sharply observational throughout, as she imbues life’s ordinary scenes with contemplative weight – whether watching a neighbour eat a peach over their kitchen sink, calling her dad or forgetting to water a friend’s plants. “Can’t afford to have an inner life,” she sings on the album opener, Brand New – but everyday moments do seem to awaken her rich internal monologue across the record.
Sonically, The Gem balances luscious pop-rock (God Sometimes, The Hardest Thing) with bright, upbeat jangle – such as in the lead single, Get Away From Me (I Think I’ll Love You Soon) – and stripped-back acoustics (Angel Vision, the piano-led You Turned On the Tap). At the album’s halfway mark, Real Life finely straddles the line between lo-fi and more dense arrangements, beginning with a tinny drum machine before building to something more quietly complex.
Jacklin’s gentle, startlingly controlled voice is her superpower, bringing stories to life with tenderness and emotion. She accompanies herself on Brand New, singing the title phrase over and over as it’s layered with a defiant statement: “I’m free now, let me be brand new.” Elsewhere, sumptuous harmonies come courtesy of her bandmate and collaborator Jacob Diamond; the album closer, I Wish, features the Melbourne folk duo the Maes, bringing to mind another Melbourne band, Folk Bitch Trio, and their melting three-part harmonies.
The vocals are especially affecting on Walk On Me, which sounds as though it could be a cut from Crushing. Downbeat guitar and drums back a vignette of a doomed, unequal relationship: “When the band begins to play / I say, ‘I know this song’ / you say, ‘Everyone knows this one’ / so why am I the only person singing along?” Jacklin sings plaintively, before the music takes over. Her voice transforms into an instrument for the rest of the song, soaring over thick sonic layers. There are no words but the pained strength in her vocalisations says it all.
Blending mystery and intimacy, The Gem offers a window into the contradictions and confusions of Jacklin’s smart, sensitive mind. The album cover shows a triptych of lockets, all containing Jacklin’s face: in two circular frames, she smiles, but in a rectangular one, her expression is inscrutable. It’s an apt visualisation of Jacklin’s genius duality, continuing her trajectory as one of Australia’s finest contemporary songwriters.
The Gem is out now
