Celeste ‘Woman Of Faces’ Album Review: A Voice Of Pure, Prolific Power
Celeste - ‘Woman Of Many Faces’, album cover. Image credit: Chuff Media
Step into the world of Celeste’s heartbreak: dazzling with pain, dripping with emotion, determined to emerge stronger.
Celeste’s undulating ride in the public eye began when she released her debut single in 2016, on Lily Allen’s record label. It reached its crest in 2021 after her critically acclaimed debut album ‘Not Your Muse’ earned her a number one spot, a Mercury Prize nomination, and a viral live performance of single ‘Strange’.
Her first major release since, Celeste’s new body of work proves she is not an artist intent on being a flash in the pan. Born from the ashes of someone starting afresh, mourning the death of a past self after indomitable virality and subsequent industry pressure, and in the wake of a disintegrating relationship, ‘A Woman Of Faces’ is the triumphant return of someone who was ‘nearly there’, back to finish the job.
Read The Groove’s full review below.
Celeste, ‘Woman Of Faces’ album review. Image credit: Chuff Media
Step into the world of Celeste’s heartbreak, dazzling with pain, dripping with emotion, determined to emerge stronger. Opening track ‘On With The Show’ lifts to hair-raising heights. Celeste’s vulnerability is glass-shattering, and sets the precedent: ‘Woman Of Faces’ is a breakdown of what happens when you’re forced to push through your toughest challenges.
“Opening track ‘On With The Show’ lifts to hair-raising heights. Celeste’s vulnerability is glass shattering, and sets the precedent: ‘Woman Of Faces’ is a breakdown of what happens when you’re forced to push through your toughest challenges.”
Perhaps the best example of it is in ‘Keep Smiling’, with its cinematic production that whisks up iterations of ‘The Valley of The Dolls’ and ‘Pearl’-esque smiling-through-the-pain. Celeste’s voice brings an eerie polish to compliment the Hollywood strings, isolating the dark side of continuing ‘in character’. And what that character is is a strong theme across this album. Eponymous single ‘A Woman of Faces’ finds its home on Track 3; a striking manifesto on the album’s toil through personal growth and reconciliation: ‘it’s hard to see you be anybody but yourself’.
The 31-year-old songwriter has the allure, soul and old-time glamour that make her the perfect pick for a Bond song. Celeste’s voice is bourbon and maple syrup – full-bodied, sweet, strong, and unforgettable. It’s the album’s leading instrument, mastered by its performer. It finds its compelling solos between full scores, but never at risk of being overshadowed. In fact, Celeste is one of the few modern artists where a full orchestra seems the bare minimum, owing to the drama inherent in her music.
The weight of that emotion crashes to the floor in ‘Time Will Tell’, a folding in of feelings to a heartbreakingly insular ballad. If wailing could ever be beautiful; I imagine it would sound something like that. In ‘Happening Again’, her voice is conductor, urging the supporting instruments to rise and fall alongside her, as the song climbs with the delicately penned fear of losing yourself.
“Celeste’s voice is bourbon and maple syrup – full-bodied, sweet, strong, and unforgettable. It’s the album’s leading instrument, mastered by its performer.”
Pictured across the ‘Woman Of Faces’ artwork in a distressed white mini-tutu, Celeste’s music equally embodies the motif of a swan: poised, resilient and silently strong. Just shy of 34 minutes, the album doesn’t sound rushed, or leave you longing for more. Listening to it feels like a big cry: when it’s done, you feel better for it.
It’s a roulette of heartbreak ballads and reclaimed anthems, underscored by a growing power. Just when the album feels like it might be dipping into wallowing territory, Celeste interrupts with ‘Could Be A Machine’; the last thing you’d expect; a drum-heavy neo-rock song teasing you with a drop right til the end – I just wish she’d followed through.
Final song on the standard edition, ‘This Is Who I Am’ is the sound of a woman stepping into herself. The deluxe version doubles down with hopeful, energised ‘Angel Like You’, more similar in style to previous singles, ‘Stop This Flame’ and ‘Love Is Back’.
Tinged with a vague Wild West production, ‘A Woman Of Many Faces’ concludes with a slight pivot in ‘Carmen’s Song’. Featuring a predominant flute, it’s an airy, definite and cleansing salute to the Celeste of before. ‘A Woman Of Faces’ manifests its ending; moving from a performance of everything’s fine, into a place of genuine acceptance; as Celeste declares ‘don’t worry, the door is closed’.
Across the album, tracks build and build, and very rarely do they fail to deliver on the promise of their crescendo; sometimes at eyewatering peaks. I can’t imagine these songs becoming radio hits; but I can’t imagine that being Celeste’s goal either. As such, ‘Woman Of Faces’ might not cement Celeste as the next household name, but it will introduce many to her phenomenal voice and transportive composing capabilities.
Her work is too powerful, too vulnerable, too much to be swallowed and forgotten. This is an album that needs marinating, as all complex emotions and life experiences do. It’s certainly one I’ll be indulging in for a while.