‘Outer Monologues’ is a collection of narratives, of storytelling that takes shape through luscious folk music that meanders between plaintive to joyous. Podge Lane is a storyteller first and foremost. Each piece resonates with people differently, bringing out a myriad of different ideas. On the opener, ‘Survive’, the morose but hopeful tune has a host of little instrumental arrangements strewn across that make for an incredibly quaint listen. There’s an almost anxious energy around it, but Lane’s vocal performance grounds the entire piece; especially so when he hits the ‘hoping that they might just survive’ line.
Rather than using a purely acoustic melody throughout, Outer Monologues differs itself from more traditional folk through utilising a host of different instruments and more pop elements in the harmonies and melodies. It’s unique in its perennial contrasts as well, with Lane bringing out vivid and bright production combating his more vulnerable and piercing lyricism that bears much more melancholy deep down.
Thematically, the album follows a story from the point of a view of the narrator as he moves through an anxious haze on a lonely, southern city night. You embark on this journey with this character, watching him fall apart in front of you from the weight of the world around him. But slowly, you also start to realise he’s bringing himself back up as well. It’s a masterstroke in a thematic narrative record.
My personal highlight on the record comes in track three, ‘The Party’. It’s the most definitive piece on the album in my eyes, perfectly capturing that dual sense of liberation and crushing anxiousness. ‘No one really noticed that I could have left’. There’s so much to relate to here, brought to life by the collective vocal harmonies on the final minute. It’s about feeling alone, about feeling unappreciated, about feeling lost in yourself.
A remarkable piece of deeply emotive folk that anyone can find solace in.