The debut LP from TAAHLIAH sees the Scottish boundary ousher transcending the electronic underground that birthed her, crafting something far more nuanced than her club roots might suggest. While her early singles sparked comparisons to the hyperpop movement, Gramarye shatters such narrow categorisation by turning the tropes of the style on its head.
The record weaves a rich sonic tapestry where synthetic and organic elements dance in delicate balance. On standout track Hours, raw emotion seeps through every pore – its narrative of passing by an ex-lover’s home transforms into a cinematic crescendo of wailing guitars and crystalline synths. 2018 masterfully captures youthful heartache, its stark confessions pierced by thunderous electronic stabs that hit like memories you can’t shake.
The album’s lone pair of club moments shine in their scarcity. Boys is a sugar-rush of infectious hooks and pulsing rhythms, while Dawn builds from introspective verses into a euphoric trance explosion. But it’s the quieter moments that truly captivate – Angel embraces vulnerability with ethereal harps and subdued percussion, while Cherish strips everything back to showcase pure vocal intimacy.
TAAHLIAH’s genius lies in her fearless genre-blending: Glasgow indie rock crashes into soaring electronic productions; crystalline pop vocals float above grunge-tinged instrumentation. Even country twang makes an appearance on Holding On / Let Me Go, somehow mixing perfectly into the rest of the recipe.
Gramarye is an astonishing in the way that it defies expectations through experimentation, while remaining deeply personal. Despite its occasional tendency toward excess, it marks TAAHLIAH as an artist following her own star, regardless of where it leads.
