Rundle, Emma Ruth: On Dark Horses

The cover to Emma Ruth Rundle's fourth solo record, On Dark Horses, bears a blurry photo of the songwriter obscuring her face with a large toy horse with broken legs. The photo suggests something candid but also hidden, graceful but also fractured – a fitting portrait for an artist who has established a career by vacillating between shrouding herself in mystery and exposing her wounds to the world. The first peek behind the curtain came with her Sargent House debut Some Heavy Ocean, where layers of distortion were excised in favor of acoustic guitar and Rundle's beguiling vocals.

There was a distinct difference by the time Rundle released Marked For Death, a stark and deeply personal meditation on mortality and self-destructive behavior. Her entire musical trajectory, from the cinematic instrumentals of Red Sparowes to the lush haze of Marriages and onward through her solo career, seems like a gradual disclosure of intimate secrets. With On Dark Horses, Rundle doesn't shy away from uncomfortable realities or retreat into a private world, but it does capture an artist who has survived their personal nadir and come out stronger on the other side.

The eight tracks of On Dark Horses capture the evolution of Rundle as an artist, with vestigial traces of the savvy guitar work of Electric Guitar: One, the siren song beauty of Some Heavy Ocean, and the amplified urgency of Marked For Death all factoring into the album’s rich tapestry. Rundle arrives at the end of the album with an ode to a traumatized and heartbroken friend on the grand and triumphant “You Don’t Have To Cry”. It’s a fitting closer, a song announcing Rundle’s newfound hope and reminding us to take control during our darkest moments instead of succumbing to them.