Lou Rhodes
theyesandeye

What you love hurts more than what you hate, and it seems trivial, I know.

But when you feel the world and its weight, every kind of image linked to repulsion, rejection, and frustration configures in front of you. What is worse than all this stuff? Beauty, it hurts more.

Lou Rhodes also hurts, the female half of the Lamb project. Her distinctive tone—sometimes romantically grotesque (Fear Of Fours), other times anxious and emotional—coupled with a total and complete dedication to the soul make her a spokesperson for a unique, evocative, frightening style.

Since I met her and discovered her greatest successes like the perfection of Górecki or the fragility of Gabriel, she continues to aggressively take on the role of femme fatale not only in trip hop but in an entire world of singer-songwriters.

One of the reasons that drove the Lamb to take a long break as a duo is also related to their greatest virtue: the union of Andy Barlow's electronic audacity and Lou Rhodes's intimacy.

The adventure of the solo dame is characterized by the predominance (of course) of a naturalistic and bare, sparse, and unplugged style. And just like the previous albums, theyesandeye presents nature as a source of inspiration right from the opener To The Birds.

Lou is in constant search of humanity and emotion. Ian Kellet's guitar accompanies her throughout the journey, even among the most granite paths (Sea Organ). You breathe in the rays of the sun that now have a fragrance with All I Need and when Them, in a slightly martial and refined manner, shows the darkness from afar, you have the power to close the door: you are safe.

Striking the right notes, Lou's singing takes on the same intensity as the smell of rain among burnt leaves.