Her debut album, Before We Forgot How to Dream, is full of the same poignant small-town tales and delicate guitar melodies found on her early singles. At the same time, Monds-Watson adds some surprising new elements to her intimate, folk-influenced style, from stately string arrangements ( Wait ) to rambunctious drumming ( Garden ) and angelic harmonies ( Shuvels ). Lush, moving, and witty, Before We Forgot How to Dream is a decidedly ambitious album, but it also has the homemade charm of an off-the-cuff demo tape. We picked SOAK for our 2015 New Artist Spotlight. Irish singer/songwriter Bridie Monds-Watson dubbed herself SOAK as a teenager, and she’s been writing idiosyncratic indie pop gems ever since. Her debut album, Before We Forgot How to Dream, is full of the same poignant small-town tales and delicate guitar melodies found on her early singles.
Hailstones Don't Hurt. If Everyone Is Someone - No One Is Everyone". MusicBrainz: Before We Forgot How to Dream.
A Dream To Fly", 00:57. 24 Windowed House, 03:58. Charlie Puth How Long. Radio Sgom Plus - Dance Club. Snap - Rhythm Is A Dancer (single) - Rhythm Is A Dancer (Original Extended Mix).
That’s not to say that Before We Forgot How to Dream is the full package; far from it. Yet while certain traits belie the songwriter’s age – song titles like If Everyone is Someone – No One is Everyone, for example – others exhibit her depth of articulacy. Blud and B a noBody in particular are beautifully paced and eloquently phrased; others are hesitant love songs, like the evocative Garden, which sees her croon I’d take you everywhere if I could, I’d waste all my time on you to the object of her affection. The jewel in her crown, however, is still the beautiful Sea Creatures. In fact, while SOAK’s melancholic, mournful-plucked guitar tunes like Shuvels are amiable and often touching, she is at her most magnetic on the fuller-sounding songs like the aforementioned Garden. Monds-Watson has yet to learn to use her beautifully idiosyncratic voice to its full potential and her song-writing has not yet hit full-tilt.
In her quiet but forceful manner, SOAK is remarkably eloquent on this album, though the childlike timber of her vocals and her strong Irish accent mean some listeners will have to judge her intent from tone rather than the literal meaning of the lyrics, at least on first listen
Despite, or perhaps because of her youthful outlook, Before We Forgot How To Dream is an insightful look into her soulful disposition and a Narcissusian caution for the rest of us elderly sceptics. Comparisons ranging from Cat Power to Daughter lay the groundwork for understanding SOAK’s melting pot of heartfelt passion, melancholia and sparks of triumphalism. Throughout, her bluesy, textured guitar is complimented with drum crescendos and the strains of a pained violin which are all threaded together by a tender vocalist. In a time where linguists believe it may be the emoticon which becomes the picture that paints a thousand words, SOAK manipulates words to mean more than they typically convey. is haunting me and heaven’s collapsing.
Soak drenches her album in reveries about growing up in an absurd world where things may not always make sense or be right. This realization grounds her songs. She keenly gazes upon the larger society as a participant observer. For example, take the three previously mentioned songs. On B a noBody : in a breathy voice, she sweetly coos, We’ll ne-, ver amount, To anything/ C’mon c’mon, Be just like me, C’mon c’mon, Be a nobody. The intentional irony of beginning an album entitled Before We Forgot How to Dream with a wakeup call makes an irrational sense. The listener can now begin attentively dreaming to the music. Soak employs a similar technique on another one-minute instrumental track, if everyone is someone - no one is everyone. This mostly acoustic guitar and piano tune, featuring some sonic effects, gently glides along, but instead of stopping abruptly, it blends into the next cut.
Soak, AKA Bridie Monds-Watson, first started writing material for this album before she could legally drink alcohol; there is a certain amount of teenage hand-wringing here, but some other less wide-eyed insight, too. It’s a debut that shows potential, but falls just short of the songwriting spark hinted at on her second EP, 2012’s Sea Creatures. The Derry singer’s cocooning, husky voice sounds as delicately expressive as always, creaking on the single Blud – about overhearing her parents arguing with an ear pressed to her bedroom floorboards – and Hailstones Don’t Hurt.