This was one of those albums that I thought was going to be one thing and turned into something very much different. The album opens with the track "I Want It All" a slow-burning piece with the vaguest hint of country guitar. The vocals penetrated deeply, and I’m very aware of the double-entendre in one of the lines, but the whole feel of the track set up certain expectations of what was to come. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

"Aftertaste" carried that same faint hint of country, but this time with a more Taylor Swift–like sheen that gave it a brighter, polished quality. The result was a track that felt much more radio-friendly than the opener. That isn’t to say I was disappointed, though, in fact, the shift in style worked surprisingly well. The catchiness of the chorus pulled me in almost immediately, and while it leaned closer to mainstream pop than I had expected, it still managed to retain a distinctive character that set it apart.

And the musical chairs of styles strikes again with "The Baton" It feels almost too fitting—one track passing the “baton” to the next with an unspoken remit to change things up a little. This time the song leans into a folk sound, almost like a fisherman’s shanty. You might expect this to feel jarring, but instead it flows in a way that’s hard to predict, leaving you eager to hear what comes next.

And what comes next is "Casual Drug Use" an upbeat track with darker undertones, which isn’t all that surprising given the title. That being said, Kate’s vocals really show their range here, and I think at this stage I was completely hooked. And yes, the irony of being hooked during this track didn’t escape me.

"As Good As It Gets" musically feels complementary to the tracks so far, but lyrically it carries a sorrow that’s hard to shake. The sense of resignation—that this really is as good as it gets, and learning to live with that—is heartbreaking, all the more so because it’s delivered with such beauty.

And again, the lyrics turn much darker with "Sanitized" and I couldn’t help but hope this was pure artistic license rather than anything autobiographical. There’s an unease in the way the song unfolds, a kind of tension between vulnerability and defiance that lingers after each line. I found myself struggling to pin down who it reminded me of, both musically and vocally, until it finally clicked—Fiona Apple. The same raw honesty, the same ability to make something unsettling feel strangely beautiful.

Musically and vocally, this track is beautiful, and I can’t help but drop another name. It reminded me of Deb Talan, formerly one half of The Weepies. There’s a quiet charm running through the song, and the vocals fit so seamlessly that they elevate it beyond “good” into something memorable. And then, almost before you realise it, the song is over, always the hallmark of a truly great piece of music.

With "Inconsolable" that sorrow and heartbreak returns. It’s perhaps not surprising that this track leans more into country and feels deeply biographical, given the weight of the lyrics. There’s a sadness here that’s unmistakable, but it’s balanced by the beauty of the writing, the words flow with such ease that the pain becomes almost poetic. It’s the kind of song that lingers, not just for what it says, but for how gracefully it says it.

Another darker song, "Sparrow" feels much brighter musically, though lyrically it hints at a loss greater than that of a bird’s mate. For the most part, the track is gentle and pleasing, but about halfway through there’s a Bowiesque break, a sudden fracture in the harmony that suggests an undercurrent of foreboding. It’s brief, but strikingly effective, adding tension without disrupting the overall beauty of the song. This foreboding returns to see the track out and ends things on an unsettling note.

Maybe it’s the curse of a music reviewer to pour over lyrics, second-guessing whether they’re an exercise in artistic license or some form of cathartic healing, but with "Sweet Abby Girl" you can’t help but be moved either way. What could have been overwhelmingly sad is instead elevated by the lyrics, turning them into fond remembrance. It’s a song of heartbreaking loss, yet threaded with a quiet gratitude for the memory. A fitting epitaph if it were indeed so.

In "I’ll Keep Walking" she mourns the end of a relationship, taking some blame yet resisting the pull to reignite what’s gone. There’s a quiet strength in not being the victim, or even the central figure of your own heartbreak. Some things simply aren’t meant to be, and there’s a strange comfort in that acceptance. The song carries this sentiment with a grace and subtlety that my clumsy words can't match. Sometimes, it’s better to let the music speak, letting every note and pause whisper what can’t be said.

Lyrically concise, "Today" brings the album to a close. Musically, it’s as beautiful as ever, but the lyrics carry a darker undertone, a reminder of how much weight words can hold. On one hand, it’s a sombre way to end the album. On the other, there’s a quiet sense of hope in being given “today”, a reminder to acknowledge what is, and move forward with clarity. The track leaves the listener reflective, grounded, and quietly accepting of both loss and possibility.

In the end, this album is a journey of contrasts, light and dark, hope and heartbreak, playfulness and introspection. Each track offers its own emotional world, yet they flow together with a sense of purpose and artistry that keeps the listener engaged from start to finish. What began as a set of expectations became an experience far richer and more surprising, one that lingers long after the final note. It’s the kind of album that invites reflection, rewards repeated listens, and reminds you of the power of both music and words.