From the ambient post-rock of Marriages and Red Sparrowes through to collaborations, most notably last year with grindcore luminaries Thou, she has consistently mesmerised onlookers. With Engine of Hell, Rundle opens a new aural door closer to her heart and home.
This completely stripped back record is focused on Emma’s vocal performance, acoustic guitar and a return to an instrument she has not sat behind publicly before, with a haunting but beautiful sounding piano on various tracks. The keys quickly become apparent and are the perfect accompaniment to her vocals. Opener ‘Return’ is honest, pure, dark and overflowing with pain but comforting in every breath. The lyric ‘return to me’ sinking the listener into her world and the theme of reflection on her childhood. Every key stroke moving with the pitch and volume of her voice. It is a gripping combination. The video to accompany ‘Return’, featuring her sister, is a powerful visualisation of the story told here, light vs. the darkness consuming.
‘Blooms of Oblivion’ shows the emotional scars fully, a song of a loved one battling addiction. Something seen every day in many lives but not always confronted. Emma’s voice cuts right through asking ‘are we born this way?’ Trying to understand and deal with the hurt of not only herself but the ones she cares for. The song builds with some of the only additional instruments on the record to a crescendo of strings over her acoustic guitar before dissipating. The strings of her heart are plucked in with layers of a mournful mood. The direct nature of this record is impossible not to connect with.
‘Body’ really echoes Emma’s childhood sonically, like a folk tale told at a fireside in a pub. Her voice breaking as she talks of loss and watching strangers move a family member after passing. As heart-breaking as this memory is her voice is a warmth, it’s the glow of the fire gently warming the soul. This record is not afraid to address the pain and give that comfort that is needed.
There are moments of positivity in this memoir of Emma’s past. ‘Dancing Man’ talks of dancing with a friend even though it is one of the more solemn sounding tracks on the record. A sign that the record is not just here to remind her or the listeners of darker times but that there is hope. The record comes full circle as Emma talks of ‘floating through blackness, it never seems to end. I think if I wield it, I could return home.’ It is dark but somehow redeeming, seeing life beyond the pain. It is spine tinglingly in delivery.
Regardless of the journey to listen to this album, fans of her previous work or not should relate with this album. It is a difficult listen dependant on what mood they may be in but the warmth of Emma’s voice, the sincerity through beautiful imperfection of the record really hits home.