By Jenell Taylor, Columns and Features Editor

[AD 93; 2025]

Rating: 7/10

Key Tracks: “Exit Vendor,” “Gown,” “Doubt”

Joanne Robertson’s Blurrr is a fairy tale come to life. Her voice echoes from the hills of Glasgow and showers the land in a layer of pixie dust. Well versed in songwriting, poetry and oil painting, she has curated her hand in all things relating to the esoteric. Her sixth album, Blurrr, is a palpable mixture of those talents, with her voice acting as the paintbrush across the album’s canvas. In the past, she’s collaborated several times with London-based musician and producer, Dean Blunt, creating music that seemingly transcends our physical plane. Most notably, the 2020 hip-hop album ZUSHI featured Robertson’s ethereal vocals, which she has beautifully carried into Blurrr. 

An album dripping with atmosphere, Blurrr takes listeners to someplace beyond. The first track, “Ghost,” lives up to its name in the way that it sounds like being haunted, or guided by some sort of spirit. Perhaps the spirit of sadness, which Robertson explores on this track. She sings melancholically, “Try to get to what keeps you close / I pray I do all / To get what I can share.” These lyrics seem cryptic but hold a weight that moves you as you listen, drawing emotions from an unidentifiable place. 

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“Always Were,” is dream-like, surreal and cool like the first winter’s day. With the feature of expert cellist Oliver Coates, “Always Were” takes you deep through an enchanted forest and beckons you close to the edge of a waterfall, daring you to take the plunge. Coates makes use of crescendo throughout the track, only adding to the mystical atmosphere Robertson’s vocals create. A gorgeous synth is heard mid-way through, coming in with a tension that stands out from the rest of Blurrr. 

“Friendly” is the longest track on Blurrr, at 7:05. Rightfully so, as this song is a story on its own. It focuses on several layers of guitar and Robertson’s voice is only an addition, not the central idea. “Friendly” sounds like navigating confusion, and wondering where it all went wrong, if at all. Still, through such distinct pain and suffering, Robertson is able to paint over it and create beauty through layers of reverb and long, breathy notes. 

“Doubt,” the eighth track, shifts the mood to a point of higher elevation, peeling back layers of discomfort and unpleasant experience, to reveal a phoenix underneath. Roberton sings, “Three days into the splutter / But the clouds are still blazing / Throughout the last days in the mornings.” Expert lyricism is not a new feat of Robertson’s, though her instrumentals permeate deeper than the possibility of words.

Blurrr is a record about loneliness and the places it can take you if you are so willing. It has the ability to wake you up from a dream and forces you to remember how you got to where you are. Robertson understands this and forges a connection with it. She hones in on the feeling completely, surrenders to it and allows it to be the ultimate teacher. The feeling of loneliness is not only universal, it’s necessary. It opens a window to the soul and shines a light on your truest fears. Like Blurrr, it exposes the intensity of sadness while also allowing space for creation.