I Am Boleyn - Voyager

Review by Karl Magi

Overall Album Impressions

I Am Boleyn’s Voyager is emotional, full of synth-pop energy and rich with expressive vocal performances and heartfelt explorations of what it means to be a human being. The way in which all of the musical elements combine with the collaborative songwriting and Lydia Owen Edmunds' (I Am Boleyn) performance creates music that is fully realized, intensely engaging, and irrepressibly energetic.

One of the most attractive things about Voyager for me is the way in which the lyrics and singing interact and play off each other. Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice is delicate and nuanced, with the ability to soar or ache. The lyrics are well thought out and full of emotion, and these two things become one powerful, compelling way to explore what it means to be human.

Another strong aspect of Voyager is the balance of different synth sounds, instruments, and musical ideas. The synths have a wide variety of tones and textures, the guitar and other instruments blend well with the overall sound palette of the music, and the melodies are full of catchy, ear-pleasing passages. The beautiful harmonies also intensify the expressive power of the music.

I also want to mention the collaborative nature of Voyager’s songwriting. All of Lydia Owen Edmunds' collaborators help her to weave complex emotional portraits and draw vivid, human images in words. It's always good to see songwriters working together to create and explore.

My Favourite Songs Analyzed

“Only Space” commences with orchestral strings warming up and their melody trumpeting out with haunting energy. As Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice announces the journey ahead, the drums rush with intensity and the spectral synth descends, trailing tendrils as Lydia Owen Edmunds' captures adventure and emotion while the vocals slip with satiny grace.

Twinkling notes flash with Lydia Owen Edmunds' expressive voice as the bass shifts. As the ethereal vocals glide, I feel transported again. As the low end drives with a steady heartbeat, shimmering notes flash past and Lydia Owen Edmunds' captures all of the excitement within the words. Gleaming synth illuminates the track and the vocals are touching and luscious, driven by the unstoppable beat.

Now the oboe-like synth moves as the singer repeats the phrase “only space.” The drums burst again and the main melody reaches out with a sense of progress as Lydia Owen Edmunds' draws me into the music with her emotive performance. Once again the space flight message calls out and the track ends.

Our storyteller talks about stars reversing on the ground “lost like a sound." The sky has become the floor and color’s the core as the storyteller is "caught in between the Milky Way" without fear.

She says that she'll "travel through space and time a million years" as she encounters "intergalactic minds and atmospheres." She adds that if you only believe, you can start again because "the future is close and I can take you there." She concludes by saying "enter this world, come as you are, you know the journey's just begun."

Glittering chimes sparkle distantly as rounded notes tumble over each other to open “Girl Like Me.” Lydia Owen Edmunds' softly touching voice slides out with gentling emotion as the background flickers delicately. The percussion ticks softly as the chorus glides with breezy emotion and the bass throbs densely.

Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice is surrounding and full of affectionate sensations which draw me in as the drums and bass snap into a steady pattern. Above it, elegantly unfolding synth moves as the chorus slips past while the chimes add sunlit luminosity. The bass drops again and the low end pops with a strong groove while the vocals wrap around me and touch me. The drums guide the music as the chorus slides out with heartfelt sensations before the song ends.

The narrator muses about the disastrous state of the world and how we spend so much time on the wrong things. But she says, then you let someone in and "you forget everything, you forget the hurt has ever been." She points out that if a girl like her can meet a boy like the song's subject and "run away with you tonight," and as they stay in his car and he kisses her "under the night sky," she knows that it'll be alright.

Our storyteller says she would always dream, but she never thought that "I could live my life in a movie box." The song's subject came in like a tide and changed everything as she adds, "What a crazy world I'm living in!" before concluding that she knows it's going to be fine if they're together.

“Taxi” starts off as a distorted voice speaks and the bass rushes rapidly. The melody is tinged with aspiration and desire as Lydia Owen Edmunds captures every emotional nuance while the bass throbs.

The vocals shift and move into Lydia Owen Edmunds' range as the colossal bass drives. The gossamer melody brushes by and Lydia Owen Edmunds' catches me with her ability to convey the emotion in her airy vocals. The drums add a clapping sharpness as the bass tumbles below and a sweeping sound flows past.

Now the wildly twirling synth adds thrilling momentum as the vocals carry the melody as it reaches out with passion and joy, tinged by a sense of readiness for change. Lydia Owen Edmunds' vocals are full of life and affection, conflicted emotion flowing as the low end throbs with intense weight. Piano chords shift as the track comes to an end.

Our storyteller speaks of a late night taxi ride, reminding herself that she said she’d never call the song’s subject. She feels “lost in the back seat,” and she knows where everything’s headed. She adds, “I’m so drunk right now and you’re on my mind, I should go home but it’s too late.” She says now isn’t the time and she doesn’t want the other person to tell her to stop, so they can “just go ahead and break my heart.”

As the taxi exits the highway, the song the narrator once shared with the other person is playing on the radio. The cab is minutes from the song subject’s house and she realizes where things are leading. But, “I’m so close now, I can’t turn back.” As they reach the traffic lights near the other person’s house, she can’t go back because “it’s like the streets are pushing me forward, chasing my heart ‘round every corner.”

Reverberating, glistening chimes ring with a touching, gentle melody to kick off “Breathless (The Corrs).” The bell-like notes ring and Lydia Owen Edmunds' satin voice carries the unfolding melody as finger snaps move along with glimmering jazz organ notes that add compassionate radiance.

The low end begins to pulse as the chorus flows with brimming passion, carried by Lydia Owen Edmunds' engaging vocal performance. The sax that fills the music adds a rich, joyful tone as the drums kick along with her warming, affectionate vocals. The bells contribute a crystalline glimmer as the chorus flies with luminous notes around it and the low end continues to press on. The sax arcs out again, full of love.

The vocals slip past with gripping expression as the rippling synth erupts into life again and carries the melody with freedom and easy motion. As the song comes to an end, the sax sings alone, full of excitement, before silence falls.

The narrator expresses an overwhelming, passionate longing for a deep romantic connection. She feels emotionally and physically consumed by her desire, unable to hide or resist the feelings stirred by the song subject's presence.

Time seems to stand still when they're together and even the smallest touch leaves her feeling weak and breathless. Urgency and intensity define their love. Their connection feels dreamlike and all-consuming, as if nothing else matters but this moment. The repeated plea to “go on” reflects a desire to be fully swept away by love, no matter the consequences.

“Driving In The Dark” starts as a limpid synth shines above a quickly pulsing drum and bass beat. Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice radiates clarity and sincere emotion as it carries an energetic vocal melody, exuding a sense of loss as it unfolds.

Drums touch lightly but provide guidance while bass rushes along with them. The retro drums cascade and slightly melancholy piano chords call out before the bass charges on. Chimes sparkle along with Lydia Owen Edmunds' tender voice as a flickering synth cloud rises. The vocals slip out with pained emotion and anticipation intertwining.

The chorus flies out, full of tenderness and yearning for new horizons. Shimmering synth flares and the drums and bass push forward while Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice combines aspiration and wistful feeling.The song ends on bending, enfolding notes that guide it into silence.

The storyteller wants the other person to tell her if they’ve changed their mind. She encourages them to be honest, adding “there’s no need to lie.” She feels that the song’s subject’s love has diminished and “I can feel your heart withdraw.” Now she’s too tired to hold the other person and it’s “too hard to do the thing we need to.” It is also too easy for them to say goodbye.

In the chorus, she says she’ll be fine, she will roll the windows down and her tears will dry. She’s going to “leave this dead end town, driving in the dark.” As the song unfolds, our narrator says the other person’s been talking in their sleep and "telling secrets you should really keep.” There’s something missing when they kiss now and “loving you’s not meant to feel like this.”

As the song ends, she is driving away from the dead end town again as she adds that she won’t be looking back over her shoulder because she’s come to the realization that “it’s time to see that it's over.”

A piano tentatively touches above darkly muffled strings to open “Tiny Love.” Metallic notes tremble as Lydia Owen Edmunds' caressing voice moves above massively thundering drums. The bass is crushing as Lydia Owen Edmunds' catches the mingled longing and ache within the lyrics, pulling me into the emotional world of the song.

The massive drums collide as the vocals punch home the mournful loss and love within the lyrics. The drums collide heavily again and a gliding synth with rough edges slips along with strings that tangle smoothly. The chorus is silky and the drums continue to rebound. As the song ends, the sliding synth moves with towering drums and then silence falls.

Our narrator says that it isn’t a big deal if she doesn’t think about it and “I’m not lying to myself.” She dislikes the feeling of “too much pressure, lack of sleep or something else.” That something else just might be “a tiny little thing called love, just emotions, nothing real.”

The storyteller tries to convince herself that the song’s subject doesn’t mean that much to her. Now she adds, “Don’t talk about it, it’s not how I really feel about you. We tiptoe around it and if you ask I’ll tell a version of the truth.” As the song concludes, she says, “I don't want to drown in, I won't get caught up in this, I won't let me lose myself.”

“Here Before” starts off as rounded panpipes hover gently above a pastel-illuminated background. The drum beat moves in loose-limbed relaxation as the guitar intertwines in a melody full of gentleness and a sense of loss.

Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice is full of engaging emotion, carrying the message of resilience and a sense of abandonment. The drums and bass cruise along as the guitar shines calmly and the vocals are full of compelling feeling.

The panpipes in the distance add fragility, while Lydia Owen Edmunds catches all the conflicting feelings within the words. The drums continue to dance with the air, the repent pan pipes shimmer and the vocals slip out with touching sensations. As the guitar glimmers, the drums and bass pulsate while the synth fills the background.

Our storyteller wants to return to the beginning, as she gave the song’s subject all of her heart. She adds, “The time we wasted went so fast, never thought that we would fall apart.” She lost track of time and the other person went away because they “never had forever” on their mind.

The narrator says she’s been there before and “now you’re sorry at my door.” She adds that every time the song’s subject leaves her wanting more. She goes on to say, “It’s so hard to know where our future will go.” If she had a second chance, she would try again because “it’s worth the lesson in the end.”

As the song concludes, our storyteller says, “I don't care if I'm a fool ‘cause I know that you're one too” adding that even after everything she still wants the song’s subject.

Colossal, triumphant synth rises as the drums kick into a dynamic beat and the vocals float to begin “Say Something.” Gentleness permeates Lydia Owen Edmunds' touching voice while the synth moves in expanding whorls and the low end continues to pulsate.

The chorus slips out with silken ease, compelling me with its complete vulnerability. The guitar slides past with a warming voice, mixing with Lydia Owen Edmunds' emotionally open vocals and the pounding low end.

As the strings in the distance add a golden halo, the drums and bass continue to throb. The vocals are full of tranquility and pain, mingled into one complex whole. The guitar gleams with luscious radiance as it unfurls and Lydia Owen Edmunds cries out once more before silence falls.

The narrator says it’s hard for her to read the signs, adding that “we didn’t talk about your sadness.” She says the song’s subject can “say it with your eyes,” but tells them the time for silence is over.

Everybody thought the song’s subject “could always talk,” but never said how they were feeling. She adds that since the other person is leaving, she “can’t help believing,” so she asks them to give her the reason.

Our storyteller says, “I need you to say something to me,” pointing out that the other person doesn’t love her and never did so, “say goodbye to ever after.” She adds that she never saw the other person cry for her because “all this time, it didn’t matter.”

As the song concludes, she says, “Now that it’s over, I’m waking up sober, I’m looking for closure. I need you to say something to me.”

“Meet Me in the Clouds” comes alive with enormous bass growing as the distorted vocals tremble in the distance and digital-sounding notes ripple. The drums and bass pulsate heavily as a spectral synth levitates with a lonely melody. Lydia Owen Edmunds' wordless vocals echo into openness before she sings to caress my ears, drawing me deeper into the world of the song.

The thudding low end adds dramatic weight as the spoken word segment is chanted with haunting smoothness. The low end dances on as the chorus bursts with exciting life, propelled by Lydia Owen Edmunds' deeply felt performance. The massive drums collide as her voice echoes into open space. The way in which Lydia Owen Edmunds' vocals trail through the music creates a net in which to entangle the listener while she chants, driving the song’s emotional strength.

The bass thumps as the snare drum erupts again and the vocals ring out with intensity. The chorus hovers again with a ghostly sensation before the song comes to an end, with Lydia Owen Edmunds' surrounding voice flowing until the music ends.

Despite being on top of the world, our storyteller is still "down here, running around after highs all day" to avoid feeling fear. She adds that she's had enough and she's got to stop. She vows to "change the scene" because she has to know what happened to her dreams. She "had to stop this living day to day," and now she wants to tell the song’s subject to "meet me in the clouds."

The narrator is in another dimension and when she touches the song’s subject, it's "an atomic reaction." She asks the other person to rise from the ground and meet her in the clouds. She adds, "I'm moving fast in another direction, I'm looking out for a real connection." The other person is on top of the world but remains down below, "always searching for signs of life when the answer is clear."

Now our storyteller reminds the other person to take their body and soul, let the music take over and "lift you up to a higher place, baby." She points out that the song's subject was lost but has been found as they fall "back into the sound that lifts you up to a higher place."

Rapidly washing synth joins Lydia Owen Edmunds' gently breathy voice to commence “Another Me.” The utter softness and emotional depth in Lydia Owen Edmunds' vocals touch my heart and draw me inward. Brightly glittering synth dances along with her lightly touching voice while the wistful melody dreams above the thudding low end.

Sparkling synth flickers as Lydia Owen Edmunds captures the power of love and passion with her emotive vocals. In the distance, frolicking notes dance with effervescent luminosity while the drums and bass continue to thunder. The chorus climbs with uplifting life, tinged with melancholy. The words slide with genuine affection and the drums continue to pound.

A snare drum continues to kick as the low end accelerates and the chorus climbs, leaping with coruscating luminosity. The track slides with smooth emotion before the song fades.

The narrator tells the song’s subject that you can’t do things differently or be someone else. She wonders, “Is it in my DNA? Am I born to be this way?” She adds that she feels hopeless in love, but insists she won’t be “another me.” With regret, she says, “Give me something good and I will break it.”

Our storyteller points out that usually, “I'm another me,” but she feels the song’s subject isn’t like other people. She adds that “pain is the same” and pleads for the other person to pause because, “I don’t want to mess this up. I want to be another me this time.”

On the previous night, the narrator says, “I died when you kissed me.” She speaks to the other person and says, “Tell me what you want to do, I’ll do anything for you.” She concludes, “Maybe this is what it feels like—the falling.”

“Stay” begins with twinkling chimes and smoothly swelling synth as gigantic bass throbs and vivid guitar strums. Lydia Owen Edmunds' tenuous, trembling vocals carry the aching melody above the shining guitar as the drums pulsate easily. The sincere emotion within her voice pulls at my heart as she carries the hurting melody out above the thick bass tide.

The chorus is gentle and pained as it drifts above the reverberating low end. As the vocals slide out, they transmit all of the longing, need and loss within the lyrics. The chimes shimmer delicately as the bass slides past and Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice wraps around the guitar as it calls out. The chorus climbs again, imbued with intense feeling as the twirling arpeggios ripple and the vocals sail out into silence.

Our storyteller begins by saying, “Guess I’m sleeping at home, another night on my own.” She wonders if she’s missed something, because it wasn’t always that way. She recalls the night she met the song’s subject, unable to forget “when you said you want me to stay with you.”

The narrator tries to call the song’s subject, but decides they must be out with their friends. She regrets what she said and adds, “Let’s take the weekend to clear our heads.” Ultimately, she realizes, “I’m so tired of being free.”

A choir of voices harmonizes over the heavily pulsating bass to kick off “Snowdonia.” Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice is fragile and full of tremulous emotion as the bass and drums cascade. The vocals are yearning and full of memory and a feeling of connection as the low end continues to pulsate.

The melody mingles joy and remembrance as the choir calls out and the percussion throbs while the bass drives. Lydia Owen Edmunds captures all of these emotions in her distinctive and intensely beautiful voice, compelling me as she releases all the feelings within the words.

The low end bursts as the vocals slide past with silken ease. The drums batter and pulse as the swirling synth intermingles with the harmonic voices while the ethereal vocals trail through the music. The main melody is full of longing and yearning as the vocals call out and the steady low end throbs.

The choir calls out again as the lead singer lets her expressive voice unfold above the bursting, throbbing low end before silence falls.

There are times when the narrator is “outside the circle, a candle in the rain.” Sometimes she looks at other people and doesn’t feel the same. She adds, “When I’m catching a minute, an hour, I have you one breath away.”

She speaks of Snowdonia and says she never leaves it, carrying it in her heart. She says, “I close my eyes, it’s you I see. Snowdonia, I carry my home with me.”

Our storyteller speaks of the sleeping dragon and the wind at her back, in a place “where the stars will shine like diamonds and the sky is blacker than black.” She talks about the memories she’ll hold in her from “Hardy Head down to Anglesey.”

“Until the Summer Ends” opens with the sound of washing waves as smoothly flickering synth is joined by the breathy affection of Lydia Owen Edmunds' voice, carrying the melancholy melody. The bass undulates as the drifting vocals enfold me in sadness tinged with hope, which I find affecting.

Now the melody bounces with brighter energy as the chimes sparkle and the trumpeting synth harmonizes with the lead singer. The bass and guitar add depth and strength while the shimmering notes sparkle with lively encouragement.

The massive bass snarls while the lead singer fills the melody with authentic expression and the sunlit synth sails past. Once again, the chorus climbs with joyful aspiration while the lead singer carries the melody with assurance and the guitar surges with power.

The elevated notes add crystalline luminosity while the low end continues to drive forward. The charging chords growl and the track flows to an end with Lydia Owen Edmunds' voiceover and a glittering synth intertwining.

Our storyteller says the song’s subject “came around like the sunrise, made me feel like the first time.” She points out that the other person got away “when I should have held you close.” She adds that the other person “disappeared like a low tide, waiting here for a lifetime.” She feels she wasted everything “when I should have let you go.”

Now the narrator says she’s calling with wide-open arms, “still hoping you take me someplace I want to go.” She adds that she’s been dreaming and feeling that there’s something more. She says, “Give me one last dance with you ‘cause I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

In her current frame of mind, she wants the song’s subject to “hold me now till summer ends.” She says she never wants to, but she’ll let go if she has to because “I’d give it all just to feel one last touch.” As the song concludes, she says, “Do you still feel the same? The seasons may be changing, but our summer never ends.”

Conclusion

Voyager is indeed a wonderful voyage across the complicated tapestry of human emotion. It combines well crafted harmonies and melodies, skillful songwriting and carefully curated synthesizer sounds  to create mature and enjoyable synth pop music.