With her sophomore EP Pale Light, Auckland alt-pop artist Emily Bateman has sharpened her sound into something intimate yet commanding. The record lingers in the space between atmosphere and rawness, guided by a guitar-driven minimalism that evokes the spectral textures hybrid of The xx and Best Coast.
Where her debut Like I Always Do laid the groundwork for her sonic identity, Pale Light feels more assured, leaning into a stripped-back indie sensibility without losing its pop edge. The production from Andrew Isdale favours restraint, leaving space for guitars to breathe, for reverb to trail, and for Bateman’s lyrics to land with clarity. The result is an EP that feels like a late-night conversation: confessional, unflinching, and hard to shake off.
Lyrically, Bateman explores the contradictions of relationships, moments of longing and sabotage, flashes of romance blurred by the haze of hindsight. Her words avoid melodrama, instead opting for the kind of precise phrasing that cuts deeper the simpler it gets. It is an emotional landscape we have all walked through, but Bateman captures it with a sharpness that makes the familiar feel newly disarming.
The standout comes in What A Dream, a track that crystallises the EP’s balance of melancholy and momentum. Co-crafted with Kahu Sanson-Burnett, the song builds on chiming guitars and subtle rhythmic shifts, layering a mellow indie texture that feels both vulnerable and resolute. It is here that Bateman’s songwriting is at its strongest, hook-laden yet understated, capable of burrowing into your head with quiet persistence rather than bombast.
Another highlight, I Know It’s Bad drapes itself in atmosphere, its teasing guitar lines threading through the mix with a restless pull. The track draws listeners deeper into the shadowy world Bateman maps across the EP, a space where unease and allure coexist. It is a moment that showcases her growing ability to command tension and release with striking precision.
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