Rising talent Imogen and the Knife has unveiled her eagerly anticipated debut EP ‘Some Kind of Love’, a poignant exploration of love’s multifaceted nature. Hailing from Newcastle but now based in South-East London, Imogen crafts a unique world that draws inspiration from iconic artists like Kate Bush and Nick Cave while carving out her own distinctive voice.
The five-track EP weaves together deeply personal narratives, from recurring dreams to formative sisterly bonds, all united by their examination of love in its various forms. Imogen’s commitment to her craft shines through in lyrics that cut straight to the heart, living up to the surgical precision implied by her moniker.
Here, Imogen takes us on an intimate journey through ‘Some Kind of Love’, track by track, for our latest Artist’s Guide.
Mother of God
Mother of God is a play-by-play of a recurring dream I had during a pretty turbulent and transitional time in my life. The images were already there: the boat-shaped house, the knife with my initials on it, the mosaic of faces.
“Mother of God! This can’t be the only one” is a waking realisation that, unless addressed, the dream and the pain won’t leave. Which is apt because after it was written, the recurring dream, at least, did.
If It Won’t Talk Of Rain
This is essentially a musing on my upbringing as a fiercely proud northerner and musician, what this meant as a young woman choosing to leave home, how I continue to navigate a torn identity, the men in my life and how they’ve shaped me, how I love them, how it’s complicated. Northerners are rooted in a culture of song and place, and there’s a defiant and bleak romanticism ingrained in us. It commanded my outlook on life, and this track is an exploration of the spectrum of love, joy, pain and torment that comes with it. Ultimately, what use is my voice, as a Northerner and as a woman, if I’m not exploring all shades of what makes that?
Red (is my colour)
This is one of those songs that fell out fully formed, which usually happens when I’m searching for something. I guess it’s a broad question of legacy, womanhood and our learned behaviour that shapes the continued degradation of women. It asks what it would truly mean to start again without any influence of heritage or structures; what parts of us are unknowingly intrinsic to the cycle of hurt. The song addresses you, myself, anybody. It’s less of a call to arms and more of an invitation to look inward.
Paris Night
This one is for my younger sister. I somehow managed to whisk her away to Paris at the last minute on a particularly bleak weekend (Boris had just won the election), and it was a really formative time in our relationship.
I didn’t really know what was going on with my life, and she was just about to leave school. It was a strange, quiet, apprehensive bubble of time. I remember looking at her and thinking, “I’m not sure what we’re going back to; I’d rather just stay here”.
My nearest know I’m not quiet about her being the most precious thing on the planet to me. It’s not the first or the last song about her, but it’s maybe the best.
Some Kind of Love
The EP opens and closes with a dream.
I was very close with someone when I was a kid, I don’t really know them much anymore, but they found their way into a dream I had, and we had a really moving conversation. Of course, it was my brain that made up what they were saying and how we interacted – the layers of that are really interesting to me. I figured it’s some kind of love that keeps them floating about my subconscious.
I titled the EP after this song because each track explores love of some kind in its own way. Love shapes my experience of this world. It’s beauty and it’s pain. I hold a lot of it. Sometimes, I’m not sure where to put it, and then, sometimes, a collection of songs appears.
Imogen and the Knife’s debut EP ‘Some Kind of Love’ is out now.
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