The influence of both the classic and contemporary is omnipresent on this LP, 'Alabaster' evokes thoughts of Kate Bush - 'King Of the Mountain' and John Grant's latest release all at once. 'Vacant Stare' pulls together a vocal nod towards Susanne Vega with a rambunctious and scrappy chorus that would be at home on a Pavement record. 'Don't Make Me Wait' has blustering violins and immediate grumbling guitar designed to represent ever changing emotions, something Sufjan Stevens does masterfully. It's within this variation that we find moments of pure ecstasy as you hear contentment within Pollock's delivery and lyrics while its accessible production style maintains consistence.
In Search Of Harperfield tries to make sense of ever-evolving life, exploring family secrets, ageing, death and role reversal. It seeks to understand love and loss – it is the sound of the sadness of time passing wrapped up in the sweetest soundtrack. The songs examine the history that pulses through familial veins, each chapter consolidating the singer's well established ability to encase flawless storytelling in enchanting melodies and razor sharp stanzas.
The opening scenes are set through 'Cannot Keep A Secret' with its sorrowful lament, stormy piano turbulence, uncertain confessionals, the ebb and flow of wave-crashing crescendos, before the sassy punch of 'Don't Make Me Wait', which switches between jagged, Elastica-esque riffs and seraphic vocal refrains carried on dreamy strings.
'Alabaster' has an ominous tincture – sinister synths and creeping self-doubt, elegiac strings and thudding, building beats. "These little secrets do betray you see, written in the creases of the smile you flash at me," she sings with a sense of menace. Lyrically, this album is Pollock's most accomplished work, with a cohesive thread throughout. Her elegant vocals are given the appropriate centre stage reverence, thanks in part to the talents of her husband and producer Paul Savage.