Blame My Body
Sydney duo Little May have taken a brazen step into unfamiliar sonic territory with their second full-length release, Blame My Body. In a quest to be more honest and to fully realise their current sound, Hannah Field and Elizabeth Drummond have uncovered something even more unique than what their debut album For The Company (produced by Aaron Dessner of The National) offered. This new record is a seamless and exciting blend of Little May’s past and present work; melodically piercing and musically a gritty exploration of heavier, nostalgic soundscapes.
Lyrically, the pair have never been the kind to shy away from what they needed and wanted to say. But Blame My Body is shameless. It’s vulnerable and broken, yet sexy and daring in the exact same moment. Tracks like the distorted They Can See sees Hannah drawl “the man I loved, he moved in down the road/ And I would touch myself in his favourite clothes.” These confessions are delivered with newfound confidence, something that is present throughout the entire record. Both women take their voices and play with them, experimenting with melodies and uncovering hard-hitting hooks at every turn. Almost every second of Blame My Body is a deep cut; there’s not a moment where it doesn’t feel like Field and Drummond are giving every part of themselves to the music.
As Loving Should is almost ineffable. It’s so profoundly Little May but with every hint of change that this record encompasses. Hannah reveals herself entirely, a brave slice of the vulnerability that refuses to cease, even when it hurts. Moments like “and I didn’t feel very well/ I still don’t feel very well,” and “one too many drunken calls and you don’t want me to be your girl anymore,” glide over listeners like velvet, taking the first layer of skin with them. This standout song isn’t the only piece to leave you feeling raw; Backseat Driver and Blame My Body carry the same aching vulnerability, the same essence that allows Little May to reach in and shatter our hearts without breaking a bone, constantly leaving us wanting more.
In amongst the openness, there exists a fierceness, a passive-aggressive edge in tracks like Blame My Body and the fuzzy River. There’s a darkness and an energy that hasn’t appeared before this record, as if the duo have found their power and channelled it perfectly. Sonically Blame My Body is equally reserved and explosive. Stevie Nicks meets Smashing Pumpkins colliding with the core of what makes Little May so criminally underrated. Closing with Be My Man, Be My Woman, we slip into the darkness fully and completely, yet it is not without hope. Hannah sings, “I’m weak like you like me to be/ And I’m stronger than I let myself see/ You were right all along/ But were you right all along?” It’s positively taunting before crashing headfirst into the most powerful piece of the record. This final track is power, and it concludes Little May’s journey through Blame My Body with fire.
The record is astonishing, a change in direction that couldn’t have been executed more effectively. Blame My Body feels more Little May than anything to come before; a true realisation of their sound.