Nerina Pallot - A Psalm for Emily Salvi (2024) Hi-Res

Nerina Pallot continues to plough her own furrow with an album born from loss and grief. Nerina Pallot’s seventh album (and fourth to be self-produced) is a soulful, funky affair that cements her place as an elegant singer songwriter, but will probably also continue her undervalued status. It’s also an album born of loss. Recorded between August 2022 and June 2024 it took shape during a period when Pallot lost her aunt, her sister and two uncles. That the songs on A Psalm For Emily Salvi (the title derives from a woman who Pallot corresponds with and offers words of wisdom – in this instance suggesting she study the Psalms for both their spirituality and their structure) don’t descend into mawkish, painful open heart surgery, is not only testament to Pallot’s craft but also her mordant view of life in general. If you want a quirky, insightful take on the world then you could do a lot worse than sign up for Pallot’s Substack Newsletter which can make me laugh and cry in equal measure. She should write a column for the Daily Mail – just to piss off all their readers.

Pallot endured a brief fling with fame with the release of her second album Fires in 2005. It was an experience that appears, from her writing, to have scarred her and is a place she doesn’t want to return to. Thankfully, she has a fervent cult fan base who enable her to still produce records of both ethereal and corporeal content; she may sing beautiful songs but she can swear like a trooper when the situation requires.

She has a great ear for melody, her voice creating instantly catchy songs, and they often build up majestically to a chorus that explodes into the senses. Opening song Pressure is a perfect example of this, with its lush swirling strings, and gospel vocal over a dance beat. And Lover with its simple acoustic guitar opening that harks back to earlier recordings and the simple muted strings as the song builds into a beautiful lament: You never know what you’ve got, you never know ‘til it’s gone.

Whilst Lover is reminiscent of a Stones ballad, Regrets, a gospel-tinged little gem, has Beatles undertones, and there are Beatles like harmonies on Hold My Hand too, which has a simple melody and lyrics but is so carefully constructed that it really does prove that less can be more.

Funky keyboards and a soulful voice shimmer like a desert sun through High Times, a song created to listen to whilst driving through a Californian desert, top down and the wind in your hair. Soul riffs and vibes also permeate FAFO, a song of scorching schadenfreude – Pallot’s voice is naturally suited to soul, with her passion and her cutting hardness. Madison addresses Pallot’s loss and grief head on. It’s a piano driven song – she admits that every album has to have an Elton tribute song – in which she declares that ‘It hurts a lot ’til it hurts a little’.

You Could Be So Pretty has an elegiac feel to it with a cinematic melody that could be used for the Badlands in a Western. It begins a Cappello and then the piano gently opens like rain splashing into the open earth awaiting the dearly departed. Call Your Momma is urban gospel that manages to make a religious form incredibly sexy. The album wraps up with And Here A Garden, which is jazzy, syncopated drum rhythm underneath simple chords, until we get a rock riff guitar kicking in and a Prince like middle eight. It’s a song that builds up the tension and drama into the last 30 seconds when it clears like dark clouds parting for the sun, and a celestial choir takes you out of the album.

Pallot remains a prized secret to her devoted fans, and one senses that she is happy keeping it that way; that her brief flirtation with mainstream fame was enough to show her the vapid and destructive nature of that narcissistic beast.

A Psalm For Emily Salvi is a great addition to the oeuvre that is Pallot’s journey through songwriting.