Album Review: J Smith, I Stood There Naked…

How does one tow oneself from the pits of grief? J Smith would suggest you make an album – or two. I Stood There Naked… is the sister project to 2021’s …And You Choose Not to Laugh. The latter, in Smith’s words, was “written in the shadow of loss and the experience of never meeting a child.” This one springs from the opposite emotional pole: the birth of his daughter.

It comprises nine songs built around Smith’s pumpjack voice, and the emotional intelligence of the words it draws out. He sings with the gauche, breathy intimacy of his namesake Elliot, but can wail and trill like Florence Welch if needed. There’s even a trace of Jack Johnson’s bedtime-story gentleness on ‘Laburnum’.

Across the record, Smith presents his relationship with his daughter as a portal, not only to his current happiness and sense of perspective, but also to the hard times and "six-feet holes" he had to look down on opener ‘So Low’, and a tough upbringing on the string-swathed ‘Cornershop’.

He’s got chops too. The production is immaculate, and the rhythm section is tight but unintrusive, amenable to letting the guitarwork shine. There’s math rock and emo riffage on the sweet ‘Desireland’; a propulsive, art-rock crunch à la In Rainbows on ‘The Car 2’; and some warm singer-songwriter patterns on ‘Bassinet’.

Mix all the above and you’ve got a strong crop of songs, tracing an absorbing emotional arc from despair to devotion.

• Out Now.