There is seldom a debut album so full of life and simultaneously skeletal that it inflates your heart and breaks your bones and changes something in you upon first listen. Ruby Gill’s Older is a twopart, 12 song journey of brightly coloured paint stains and pencil lines. Like the LPs of yesteryear, 6 songs live in each half. A distinctive set of lungs soar through powerful set of dark, pulsing introspections, marrying a definitive musical complexity and lyrical sharpness with a universal, memorable appeal.The Aside is moving and massive in its exploding choruses and dark chocolate verses. Vibrant, soaring hooks and a mellow, bitter piano forms the undercurrent of Ruby’s soundscape. The tshirts of a disillusioned, destructive relationship are thrown out the bedroom window, and the dark is silverlined with mellow, starspotted skies. Quintupletime explorations of privilege carve shallow scenes into the woodwork of society. These anthems are decomposing and alive, aging graceful in their heartbreak and joy. A goosebumpcovered Bside is filled with gentle, perfect songwriting. A stomach full of butterflies as a sultry, naked voice falls in love. A pillow fort in the living room. Hymns of longing and loss – intimate stories more recognisable than the universal seasons they explore. The earth rotates into its final stark quarter, and you whisper to someone in the aftermath of this album that you love them. Older is a soundtrack to the human condition, desperate, exuberant, resigned and ultimately beautiful. Ruby Gill will carve a steady path into the Earth’s musical spaces with her piano and her orchestra of bigness and smallness.