Zoë Larsen-Cumming (she/her), musician and songwriter based in Tāmaki Makaurau, is the brains behind Babe Martin. I’m reviewing the debut single from her newly launched E.P, also named Versoix, and this is most definitely an interesting song from an interesting act.

With some intense restraint, Babe Martin brings us an organ-driven folk/dream-pop crossover of surprising commerciality. Versoix is on the North-west banks of Lake Geneva in Switzerland; itself a place of windswept mystique to many, one of Europe’s oldest, most established nations. The song here is haunting, dreamy and semi-melancholic. We have a slow tempo, with the aforementioned organ nicely placed as the principal instrument. Babe (I’ll refer to her by the stage name; why not? People called Jimmy Osterburg by his band name, Vincent Furnier by his, Debbie Harry by hers…) has a great range, and crystal clarity that puts me in mind of the introspective and highly popular Portishead.

The video is exquisite. Filmed by Kelly Gilbride, Jennifer Riis Gotrik and Babe, it’s in a forest and captured wonderfully on a Super 8. This has been executed with precision, as the specific film quality delivered actually augments the song and helps turn it into a soundtrack, the meaning of which Babe has gifted us the ability to interpret widely due to the complexity of the lyrics delivering us so much scope for subjective meaning. It’s a dreamy video, not complicated in storyboarding, yet it captures the vibe with that Super 8 in a way I think more standard kit would have missed. Very good idea. The ladies explain a lot about this in the EPK.

The song is about Babe‘s time spent in Versoix, and the relationships she developed there. It’s got a lyrical ambiguity that loosens it enough for an introvert to use it for their own audio comfort blanket. And a comfort blanket it certainly is. This is the sort of stuff you should look at on the mechanical licensing sites for soundtracks, TV ads and the like, as well as listening alone, at 1am, to let that full on Saturday night down the Viaduct or Courtenay Place slowly fade into memory, in a room with the light off, the harsh neon flicker of the street resonant on the window. Listen to the song in that environment and you’ll see where I’m coming from.

Having said all this, the chorus is actually a confirmed ear worm. This can fit in on any number of playlists. Indie, folk, dream-pop, even my friends in the Gothic community will like this song. It’s sparse yet full. It’s understated yet has a swagger. A something. Definitely a happening release by a happening artist.

Check out her socials, and support Babe Martin. Be there so you can say you were into her before she was world famous.