| Her debut album explores love and self-preservation against the torment of the past. | | Photos: Bex Aston | Words: Grace Palmer | | | "Everything / I have ever learned / in my lifetime / leads back to this." Published in 1983, Mary Oliver's poem is poignantly evoked by Alice Costelloe's debut full-length, 'Move On With the Year'. Released by Moshi Moshi, the London-based singer-songwriter's album is a cathartic reconciliation with love in the most testing of circumstances. Using her Moog synthesiser, alongside traditional instrumentation, Costelloe delves into the polarities of devotion, self-preservation and heartbreak. 'Move On With the Year' focuses its attention on Costelloe's father, caught in the thralls of addiction – a phantom figure, very much alive, but untethered from her family. Dichotomous in its approach, this album blends mourning and sorrow with self-acceptance and growth. Costelloe's debut is a heartbreaking anamnesis, but astute in its acknowledgement of Oliver's portentous words, "everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this." | | Emerging from her time undergoing EMDR therapy, 'Move On With the Year' encapsulates the sensation Costelloe describes as "being constantly dipped in memories." The album exudes an atmosphere as effervescent as recollections often are. Opening track, 'Anywhere Else', is a lullaby of discordant contemplation. Costelloe's signature, delicate vocals reverberate across the song, punctuated by unfinished sentences before the chorus – "I would rather be … anywhere else". As the instrumentation crescendos towards the song's conclusion, it confronts an uneasy tension. The desperate plea to be "anywhere else" is juxtaposed with the invisible thread that pulls you back to someone you ought to love. At the song's climax, Costelloe's echoed screams break into the phrase "when I get the call", an anguished acceptance that sometimes, you must face the memories that haunt you. This dance between truth and illusion grounds her debut. On 'How Can I', Costelloe tackles these contradictions directly. Rhetorical questions – "How can I still adore you?" – and brisk tambourine shakes, evoke a childlike loyalty to an imperfect father. Wrestling with this turmoil, Costelloe finds solace in self-acceptance. The post-chorus erupts with choral vocals before softening into the refrain, "I am good, I'm enough, I'm surrounded by love." Despite a distressing past, Costelloe manifests a future of self-worth and love. | | Such intimate confessionalism enables Costelloe to process the persistent heartbreak of a dysfunctional relationship. The acousticfingerpicking in 'Too Late Now', paired with the grief-stricken realisation that "it's too late", feels ever more exposing. As is often the case on this album, the conclusion of that track is anxiety-inducing, an oceanic quality pierced by abrasive siren sounds. It captures the dread of standing in a space where control slips away. These conclusive symphonic disturbances are fundamental to the therapeutic relinquishment in 'Move On With the Year'. In 'Of Course I Know', Costelloe's vocals and eruptive Moog sound combine with Jono Helsby's rolling drums to evoke the swirling collapse of existing in both memory and reality. 'Feet on the Sand' explodes in anguish, culminating in Costelloe's attempts to reconnect with a figure no longer corporeal. It is in 'Every Time', however, that this sonic progression truly becomes Costelloe's effusive voice. The track's melancholy is suffocating, starting with whispered vocals: "Every time I turn out the light, I don't want to worry about you". As the flute chords and the steady synth beat rise, Costelloe emerges from the darkness. Ending in this rich instrumentation, 'Every Time' signifies rebirth and liberation, celebrating the radical freedom in letting go. | | 'Move On With the Year' is an unconventional heartbreak album, unflinching in its depiction of familial fractures with striking clarity. The title track adopts the contemplative spirit of artists like Alice Phoebe Lou and Laura Marling, the distorted echo of its final words – "Delete the message, move on with the year" – lingering long after. Though the process is wearying, Costelloe actively reconciles with the necessity of change and to "move on with the year." As she asserts, "the older I get, the more I understand it's not super healthy to be hiding, or ashamed of parts of yourself." Concluding this album's emotional exploration is the crushing epilogue, 'Is There Something (Goodbye)'. Costelloe's one-take vocal is funereal, underscored by a resonant synth. Breaking free from her father's addiction, Costelloe makes a final declaration, "I'm not gonna be here long […] I'll say my last goodbye." As the track swells, the echoed synth fades, signalling her departure from this chapter. Though solemn, 'Is There Something (Goodbye)' offers a necessary conclusion and a hopeful step forward. | | Confessional and intimate, Alice Costelloe's debut album offers a cathartic reckoning with love, self-preservation and self-discovery. Propelled by a devastating lyricism juxtaposed by lilting melodies and sweeping symphonic arrangements, 'Move On With the Year' stands as a profoundly personal and strikingly clear-eyed confrontation of a past marked by grief and neglect. Costelloe's songs reconcile with memory, echoing Mary Oliver's sentiment: "Everything I have learned in my lifetime leads back to this." | | | | |
