Music journalist Steven Loftin (The Line Of Best Fit, Upset) on Lemonade by Hannah Jane Lewis.
Remember when it was disgustingly hot last summer, and you were traipsing through dried out fields, trying to find the tiniest bit of shade? And once you’d finally get your hands on anything that soothed – a frosty beer, perhaps – a rush of relief only entwined with an urgent need for more? Well, that’s what Hannah Jane Lewis is crafting in pop music form.
Over the last couple of years, the Surrey singer has been piecing together a neat collection of tracks that dig deep into the DNA of pop music; crafting movie scenes that bask in the youthful glow of passing innocence. Her self-titled debut EP, released last year, neatly packaged all facets of that life-affirming thing called love, and now she’s back with Lemonade.
The track is charged with sunshine and the same fizz as its namesake beverage. Lucious pop bombast strikes through, as the verses flutter easily between swelling and subdued.
Lewis keeps her odes to that moment of falling for someone delicate and yearning to let loose, and once they do, the result is pure power. If she can continue to build on memory-stoking magic like this, then there’s no telling what else she could do.