At points on her debut album, Lungs, Florence Welch suggests she's a wild Englishwoman on par with PJ Harvey: She sets her boyfriend ablaze and cuts out a girl's eye because the bitch won't get her "filthy fingers outta my pie." Welch sets her unique ideas about romance to punk blues, Kate Bush-style mystic art rock and crazy-Celt bombast (where her voice skirts near the Cranberries' Dolores O'Riordan's). The best bits feel like being chased through a moonless night by a sexy moor witch. No wonder the tenderest moment is "My Boy Builds Coffins," where Welch warns, "One of these days he'll make one for you."
From The Archives Issue 1084: August 6, 2009