Dove Ellis is a young Irish singer-songwriter who just released his debut album, “Blizzard.” Although he is just at the beginning of a remarkable career, he must already be sufficiently tired of comparisons to Jeff Buckley.
Such comparisons are not entirely unfounded. It’s not just the impressive vocals, with their soaring melodies delivered in a staggering falsetto; his debut album also defies conventional expectations, sounding nothing like a typical first record. Early reviews of Buckley’s debut album, “Grace,” elicited a similar response, describing it as a “stunningly accomplished debut.” Ellis has also been compared to Tim Buckley — Jeff Buckley’s father — Thom Yorke and Rufus Wainwright, but none of these comparisons fully describe his unique essence.
However, Ellis is clearly not looking backward. His sound possesses a quality that is difficult to define without invoking the term ‘modern’: a distinctiveness in the sounds he captures that marks a departure from any 20th-century capital-G ‘Great’ a critic might try to bind him to.
That is to say, he sounds different — different from what we are used to in the contemporary sonic landscape.
“Blizzard” presents a scrapbook, cobbling together strange textures: accordions, cellos, violas and saxophones run through effects pedals, sci-fi whines and mysterious rings and pops. Through this unevenness, Ellis carves out a very particular niche — unconventional and mysterious.
“Blizzard” is less a concise narrative statement and more a collection of distinct songs. There’s a sense of camaraderie among its tracks, as they share specific elements, most notably through Ellis’ dreamy, eccentric and often divine poetics. However, this unity is balanced by a sense of musical and emotional whiplash.
This is most visible in “Jaundice,” about halfway through the album. Ellis transforms what begins as softly yearning, somewhat romantic and relatively cohesive into a jaunty, unconventional experiment. From this point on, the album features Irish jigs, melancholic Christmas songs, vivid portrayals of a “failing shotgun marriage in Cancun” and everything in between.
Whether these strange and enjoyable incongruities are deliberate — whether the record aims to be multiform and unconventional — matters little compared to the genuine familiarity that Ellis achieves through his vocal delivery.
He takes risks. The lead single “To The Sandals” features the ridiculous sequence “To the juice shack/ To the lair back/ To the packed mass/ To the milk deal.” Ellis fearlessly employs metaphors like “For my sins, you were/ My one polished orb” and makes bold proclamations such as “We all catch falcons/ We’ve all got meat on our hands.” What might come across as poor improvisation in the hands of another performer resonates as a hymn on “Blizzard” — against all odds, Ellis compels you to take his absurdities seriously.
An effective piece of music should provoke questions —it does not satiate, but rather ignite an even stronger hunger. “Blizzard” excels at keeping its true form hidden, skillfully evading answers to even the most basic inquiry: Who is Dove Ellis?
“Keep their cameras off my face,” he sings on the final track. To date, he has not given any interviews nor released a biography or profile to the public. As The Guardian noted that his publicist’s job “thus far seems solely to be sending out music.” Clearly, Ellis wants you to judge him by his songs — and only his songs.
The record is filled with driving, energetic movements interspersed with pauses and breaths, occasionally giving way to softer moments of reflection. Sonically, it invokes a variety of imagery, including violet winter nights, bare trees, stained-glass windows, silhouettes of birds and ornate European town squares. Beneath this distant, romantic and distinctly gothic imagery — along with lyrics that often seem more heavy-handed than they truly are — lie profoundly moving human truths.
An observation that stands out during multiple listen-throughs of “Blizzard” is how remarkably Ellis creates a sense of intimacy with his listener at all times. The camaraderie noted among the songs extends to the relationship between Ellis’ voice and the audience. You may never see him clearly or fully understand him, but he sings as though he is speaking directly to you. This intimacy results from the excellent production — one of the unifying forces in a record that defies cohesion — as well as the indescribable and captivating qualities of his vocal delivery: haunting, velvety, verbose and fleeting.
Dove Ellis has undoubtedly crafted a beautiful and highly compelling debut. It remains to be seen how he will build upon it.
