Billie Marten breaks ground on new album ‘Drop Cherries’
By: Sydney Hise
British singer-songwriter Isabella Tweddle, better known as her stage name Billie Marten, shimmers and floats on her fourth studio album Drop Cherries, a conceptual piece of art strung together with graceful harmonies and tilting instrumentals. With the plucky guitars of Norah Jones and the echoing vocals of Stevie Nicks, Marten ties together an image of a blossoming love and all of the perils that come with it.
Starting with the completely instrumental track “New Idea”, Marten sets the scene for the rest of the record. As Marten gently hums, it feels as if you are coasting between dimensions, drifting weightless amongst cherubs and clouds. This track captures the feeling of warm, sun-filled mornings, dewy grass and summery breezes. A very unique choice for the start of an album, but a clever choice for Marten, as you step directly into the soundscape of the record.
“God Above” is a string-filled, bouncy song. Marten’s melody jumps effortlessly and again, breezily. “Just Us” shares the same hazy feeling, as if someone pulled white linen curtains open to fill a white room with golden-hour sun. With the lyrics “I move, you move / I choose you choose,” Marten describes an intimate relationship where two become one, in the company of the “two flies on the wall”. Metaphors rooted in nature appear on this track, a string that runs through most of Marten’s works (sycamore trees for legs, in this instance).
“I Can’t Get My Head Around You,” a purist track about avoiding love instinctively but searching for it nonetheless, is genuinely one of the most beautifully simple songs I have ever heard. Whilst writing this review, I got stuck with this song on loop. It is truly gorgeous. It perfectly captures the feeling of being infatuated with someone you can’t quite pin down. As Marten’s voice lilts, the guitar and gentle drums encase you in dreamy acoustics while the track steadily crescendos to its peak.
The nature visuals continue on track “Willow”, where Marten paints a picture of “two weepin’ willows throwing an arm to each other”. “Willow” tackles the feeling of finding someone who compliments you well, but then being apart from them and learning to cope with that void and the pain that accompanies it. One of the most interesting things Marten does with her records is piece melodies together in stunning ways - “hidden in your shoulder curve, waiting for your chest to burst” is a prime example of this. It makes every song sound completely original, although thematically, it has been done before.
Overthinkers will relate to “Acid Tooth”, a mellow track that deals with the restless mind and its relationship to trusting others (or trusting yourself), while “Devil Swim” cycles through the seasons of life and love, wishing for someone to be “bad” alongside you while all you see is their goodness and warmth, juxtaposed against your seemingly less-than qualities.
“I Bend To Him” speaks of both the sublime that is being in love and the ease at which we scorn the ones we hold the closest. Marten describes the goodness of love, the divine, simple things that elevate when love is near, and the tenderness that comes with fully allowing someone in. It is confessional, deeply personal, and very vulnerable, almost as if you were ripping off a bandaid, left with a tiny sting. There is something almost bittersweet about this song, masked by lovey lyrics.
Instrumentally heavier than the tracks before, “Nothing But Mine” leans into thick, steady drums and bouncing, bold piano chords. There’s something very Joni Mitchell-esque about this song, simplistic and sweet, as Marten asks her partner not to break her heart, and to be her friend.
“Arrows” is the standout on this record, a gorgeous culmination of self-awareness through somewhat muddy self-vision: “I’m at war with my shadow, roads dark and narrow, but I am the arrow”. There is an acknowledgement of both imperfection and robustness, an equal balance of not-quite-there-yet and trusting the process. A never-faltering anchor in a stormy sea. It concludes with angelic, drifting vocals.
Photo: Kate Silvester
Complimentary strings in the chorus of “Tongue” are the star of the show. An unambiguous record, it tells the story of wanting a lover to be around all the time (“I’d put you in my shoe so I could walk around all day with you”) & to be known fully (“I’d trace you with my tongue, I’d do it so I don’t forget where you come from”). Marten has allowed her partner to touch every part of herself, metaphorically or physically, and with that, comes a wholeness and a beautiful simplicity.
Another gorgeously simple record, “This Is How We Move”, is the second to last track on Drop Cherries. She proclaims her love as her muse, plainly and brazenly. Marten also comes back with the flora and fauna metaphors, this time in the form of “I dug myself right up / the earth was pouring on my brow and I knew I was enough”. The bridge of this song swelters and then delicately comes back down to kiss the final refrain of “this is how we move / this is how we move” and the final verse.
On the final and titular track, steady guitar is the first breath of the song you hear. An absolutely delightful finale to a very pleasant album, “Drop Cherries” details the gentle submissiveness that comes with monogamy & the want to appease your partner, no matter what garish lengths you go to, like dropping cherries at their doorstep when they ask for more. At first, Marten is not sure why she is completing the request, but then, realization hits and the track rounds out with cognizance.
Drop Cherries is a highly intellectual record. It takes form in a way that is almost Shakespearean––intricately woven and particularly thought out. Through her use of natural metaphors and imagery, simplistic chords and instrumentals, and consistent theming, Marten puts together a truly grounded record. Drop Cherries is as stark and vibrant as the visual of splattered red on a cream carpet––and much like the ripe fruit, will leave a stain for years to come.