The self-titled debut of Melbourne's Hana Maru is beautifully bare.
Jill Farrar's honeyed vocals flutter among lilting strings and orchestral arrangements that smooth the listener's brow and add a touch of dramatic flair to naked lyrical poetry. Touches of folk simplicity strip back any semblance of overcooked ideas or themes, with splashes of dark tonal hues among uplifting acoustics lending depth to the soundscape. Hana Maru is the perfect accompaniment to a lazy, rainy winter's morning in bed with black coffee and a worn novel — without a hint of pretension, of course.
