Album Review: Lawrence Arabia - The Sparrow

New Zealand-born musician James Milne has been plying his trade under the musical guise of Lawrence Arabia for almost a decade now, and it's taken him all over the world, either from his own creative wellspring or through his collaborations with the likes of Okkervil River and Feist. He's built a small yet fervent fanbase that has fallen in thrall of his elegiac, quirky histrionics, which seemed on the cusp of reaching their apex with the effervescence that permeated 2010's Chant Darling. The Sparrow isn't a natural successor in any form – but eschewing notions is Milne's forte.

The album opens with Travelling Shoes, a bouncy number rich in storytelling imagery and acerbic wit, but is immediately tempered by the wistful Lick Your Wounds. This continual shift in tone persists throughout The Sparrow. The shuffling drum, stark monotonous piano and sonorous strings buoy Milne's vocals beautifully on album highlight, Early Kneecappings, from which context comes the cover art for the record, with lyrics about altering a New York subway poster: “I added a crude moustache, exposed brains/It made the pretty boy look highbrow, so I gave myself the same”. Such elliptic lyrics permeate The Sparrow, and alongside the intriguing and beguiling arrangements is the reminder that Milne truly is an artist carving his own path.

Yet somehow these aspects aren't enough. There's nothing here that is offensive, nor is it blandly inoffensive, yet it drifts away in a haze of misplaced familiarity without leaving the desired impression. What the album does do though is show that Milne is yet another step closer to realising the musical peaks that he ardently seeks.