ALBUM REVIEW: Prima Queen - The Prize

The day that 'Prima Queen' released their debut album 'The Prize' was a bad day for any downstairs neighbours. It is bouncy, and just slightly unhinged, the perfect album to jump around your room to; whether stamping out heartbreak or fizzing with the possibilities of a new crush. 

The title track 'The Prize' is one of female solidarity, it is having your friend braid your hair out of your tear stained face and giving you half of their bed, and feeding you scrambled eggs in the morning. It is covered with a warm wash of guitar, the lyrics floating above like a delicate garnish. They have the folkiness of a 'First Aid Kit' tune, with the fuzziness of a 'Big Thief' song, a beautiful blend of so many alt-folk artists. 

A handful of their songs are more melancholy; 'Oats' has the unbridled rage of Sir Chloe, whilst 'Ugly' has a gothic undertone, creeping slowly towards uncaged anger. 'Spaceship' is the standout of the melancholy collection, an almost acoustic song with tangled stringed instruments floating behind, gossamer thin. It is sliding down a gravel wall at the end of night out, intended to distract from reality, when everything wears off and the world comes crashing down. The silence between every note on the guitar speaks of isolation, a receding summer, a discarded love letter, a yearning for another note to fill the space. 

Prima Queen can do more than just melancholy, however, with 'Flying Ant Day' being a twirling mass of harmonies, twinkling through a dancing drum beat. 'Sunshine Song' is equally soft, lyrics lapping against guitars like a gentle tide across the mellow sands. These glittering tunes dance barefoot around the more violent ones, turning the album into a strange whirlwind of emotions. 

There is no conclusion to the album, just a heavy mess of emotions, ready to be danced out on the second listen - but perhaps invite your downstairs neighbour to join you.