Flora Fauna<\/em> to “feel a lot more live and present.”<\/p>\n\n\n\nThat extended to the album’s themes as much as the instrumentation. The springy bassline of album opener “Garden of Eden” snaps around lines like “I’ve been growing leaf by leaf\/Dying for the world to see” before bursting into a twinkling chorus. Metaphors meld the natural world with Marten’s personal and musical growth over the course of the record, making statements both direct and roundabout about humanity’s place on this earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes, that’s intensely personal – more than a few of these songs see Marten coming to terms with her human shell. While previous albums were abstract about her experiences with depression, Marten retains the poeticism while offering very literal insights into cultivating “a good healthy relationship with the one person that matters most” – herself. “Growing up I felt very alien to my body. I developed an eating disorder when I was like 13, 14, and I\u2019m still battling with that now, but the past two albums I was not ready to admit that or address that at all,” she admits. “This album takes into account all those hypocrisies and the changing of minds that you have each day; whether you feel positive or negative about yourself fluctuates daily and I wanted to address that in every song.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On “Heaven” she’s looking for salvation or relief, trilling the mantra “give my body patience to be free” over exotic guitar tones and fuzzy synth. Soaring strings lend conviction to Marten’s boundary-setting assertion on “Kill the Clown:” “After all I \u200bam not a baby doll\/I’ve got bills to pay and they never go away… I see everything in color\/And I’m done with that.” On the plucky, self-deprecating “Ruin,” she acknowledges she’s not always friends with herself, stretching her airy falsetto over an elastic alt-pop chorus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Something happens when you go through puberty and you develop more and become this womanly shape which is supposed to get you ready for making babies and being strong and traveling and whatever. When you just so don\u2019t want<\/em> that to happen, you just go into yourself and your posture gets really bad, and you’re trying to be this skeletal image of yourself, which is not accurate,” Marten says. But on album album stand-out “Liquid Love,” she does achieve some kind of balance, even if its only a self-soothing sentiment she aspires to – it’s a breezy, easy-going love letter to what her body is capable of in a sensual self-appreciation slow jam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n“That was one of the quickest songs that came out, cause it\u2019s kind of this repetitive nursery rhyme chant thing I have going,” she says, referring to a repeating line: “all our actions are reactions.” She built chords around a sweetly hummed vocal looped with Cooper’s Yamaha sampling keyboard, added a lazy little bassline “just doing its own thing,” and paired a drum machine with a live kit for a nice mix of digital and organic percussion. “It\u2019s an incredibly immersive pool of a song and it sort of opens you up into this world that isn\u2019t really familiar, but it\u2019s kind of comforting,” Marten says. “There\u2019s no chord changes, no key changes, it just is what it is. I wanted to layer vocals and be my own choir… and then I wanted the main vocal melody to just be an ascending mantra.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At its heart, the song is about creating a space to protect and cultivate her well-being. “I just wasn\u2019t doing that and I wasn\u2019t hanging around with good people that made me feel good and that\u2019s sort of the first step I think. If you reflect good things they come back to you, and I was reflecting some bad, bad stuff throughout the past year and a half, two years. People have noticed that I\u2019m smiling<\/em> now, and that never happened. I can kind of carry myself a bit more,” she says. “It\u2019s a big learning curve, for sure. But I’m definitely getting there.” <\/p>\n\n\n\nMarten isn’t wholly preoccupied with herself, but also her place in a world dangling at the precipice of an environmental apocalypse. Her focus on nature as a grounding force is evident enough from the title of the record, and while there’s a subtle vein of confrontation railing against prior generations’ disastrous stewardship of our shared planet, Marten sees climate change as a systemic issue rather than a wholly individual responsibility. “For me it\u2019s about respecting the earth a bit more, and that could be completely impractically \u2013 it could be just thinking about it fondly, or making sure you\u2019re walking every day or buying a new plant that makes you feel good,” she says. “Concepts like nature are so abstract and evocative and it can be anything you want it to be, versus very specific problems like self love and self hate and relationships. Knowing that something is that huge puts everything into perspective for me.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Still, there are times when something as innocuously tragic as a one-legged pigeon sends her reeling into a “long boring old man rant about modern life,” as she does on “Pigeon.” “I\u2019m a very sporadic writer – I\u2019m not good at daily writing. I can only write at the point where something needs to come out of me right now, and it needs to be honest,” Marten says. “I was picking up all these worldly anxieties… just stuff you can\u2019t control at all, things that will happen with or without you. To the point where I\u2019m sitting down and writing, that\u2019s usually just have had it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The album ends with a haunting push-and-pull; “Walnut” sees Marten opining the forbidden fruits of love from a nut too hard to crack, while “Aquarium” admits her reliance on friends and lovers alike (“I am too bold without them\/I am too cold without them… Couldn’t count on any others,” she sings).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I wanted to keep up with that cyclical theme – I liked the fact that [Flora Fauna<\/em>] opens with ‘Garden of Eden’ and you\u2019re set up on appreciation and positivity and growing and goodness, and then in ‘Walnut,’ I wanted to express the forbidden nature of love and nature itself and happiness and how you\u2019re just always climbing through this cave or maze, and it\u2019s more of a struggle than you realize,” Marten says. “Aquarium,” she adds, is a portrait of herself at her lowest points. “Excuse me while I lay here in the shade,” she pleads, retreating into said garden.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe religious allusions throughout the album are more of a Leonard Cohen-esque device for exploring mortality, Marten says, than an indicator of her own beliefs; her father is a “strong atheist,” and although she grew up going to church with her religious mum, “I was mostly just observing; that\u2019s one of my favorite hobbies. I just love looking at other people\u2019s lives and being very quiet,” she says. “But religion is often talked about within song because quite often you\u2019re trying to describe something that is unattainable. It\u2019s a good way to connect the abstract with immediate things.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marten has always been skilled at tapping into resonant imagery, but if anything, Flora Fauna<\/em> feels like the truest rendering of her personhood to date. “I wanted to face things head on, and lyrically speaking, I got much less abstract and just said how I felt, and it felt amazing,” she says. “I didn\u2019t have to carry the pretense of being an artist<\/em> – and now I separate the two, you know? I\u2019m not who I am writing songs and on stage, that\u2019s not my entirety. I\u2019m a completely different person when I\u2019m not making music and that\u2019s something to accept.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Follow Billie Marten on Instagram<\/a> and Facebook<\/a> for ongoing updates.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"“I have never felt true to my age, and every time someone asks me how old I am, it\u2019s like I\u2019m lying,” says Billie Marten, certainly the epitome of an old soul if ever there was one. Not yet 22, the British singer-songwriter spent her mid-to-late teens releasing delicately rendered folk music across two albums […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":43073,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[573,305],"tags":[12208,12210,12209,2620],"acf":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/BillieMarten-MAINPressShot1-creditKatieSilvester-e1621583067466.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43118"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=43118"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43118\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":43150,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43118\/revisions\/43150"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/43073"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=43118"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=43118"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.audiofemme.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=43118"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}