More about: Leith Ross

Familiar, confessional and the romanticising of pretty little things, Leith Ross encapsulates their longevity as a songwriter on debut album To Learn.

“I want to be gentle, I want to die gently, but it seems that when life gets hard, I have to get harder to match.” As I make it to ‘Orlando’, track five of Leith Ross’ To Learn I picture the same Chore Scorpion I’ve just quoted, the indie folk singer-songwriter emitting a similar confessional vulnerability to the illustrated arachnid.

Building up momentum as a confessional songwriter during the last few years, Ross has become recognisable for releasing short stabs of material through social media, most recognisable Tik Tok. Ross’ outpouring often fueled by an existentialism or a feeling of quietly contemplated heartbreak. Ross has described themselves as a sensitive and overly artistic person since birth, which lends itself nicely to their debut release as it does their past discography.

"On To Learn Leith Ross demonstrates their songwriting credentials and longevity"

From a small town just outside of Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, Leith Ross has never been one to shy away from cheesy love, even mentioning that exact description in their biography yet that’s far from how I would describe their songwriting on To Learn. Ross’ artistry romanticises the small details, the things others might overlook, pretty little things.

While ‘I Just Don't’s final change up makes for a luscious climb into oblivion, its ending being mid-sentence feels like a rude awakening in a gut-wrenching style.

With a soft wall of lasting atmospherics and sparse fingerpicking Manotick, Ontario’s Leith Ross manages to circle round to sum up a song’s core flawlessly during choruses. Listening to a Leith Ross song feels like a nature walk because it’s one of those times where you’re at one with yourself, you’re with Ross of course, but the verses are for the subtle realisation that you’re in there too.

From its count in, ‘Guts’ sounds like a different kettle of fish, “You wanted to say sorry, but I wanted to see your body in a ditch” says Ross unapologetically. The directness and confidence suits Ross even if it’s something we’re not used to hearing.

While partly sounding like a lullaby in its respite, ‘Ask First’ takes away the credentials of the song’s subject, Leith Ross strips the power of the subject, and it feels like an empowerment to the writer. Taking back something yet leaving the familiar unidentifiable, “I’m seeing you and you’re out of sight” Ross sings.

Listening to the chugging indie anthem of ‘(You) On My Arm’ you can’t help picturing it gaining the same love and presence Phoebe Bridgers’ ‘Motion Sickness’ and Faye Webster’s ‘Right Side of My Neck’ have respectfully. To Learn is Ross’ adapting to multiple roles outside the lull of fingerpicked strings.

“What can I say? I’m learning to lie, but I’m living to learn what to lie about”. A knotting of words and meaning, this is what the album’s name stems from. The penultimate track and title track ‘To Learn’ encapsulates a thought you’re unable to switch off from as it forms and reforms, melts and rebuilds from the same stuff. 

On To Learn Leith Ross demonstrates their songwriting credentials and longevity, proving they can blanket their melancholy etchings over lightly stroked acoustics and even the chugging of the electric kind.

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More about: Leith Ross