Album Review: Change Is A Slow Moving Beast

If you’ve ever needed a reason to slow down and just breathe, Fables has provided the perfect soundtrack. Fronted by the immense talent of Jess Bailey and backed by a revolving cast of Tāmaki Makaurau’s finest, their debut album Change Is A Slow Moving Beast is exactly what the title suggests, a patient, evolving creature that demands you sit still and listen.

Coming out of the outskirts of Auckland with a sound that could thaw the coldest Waikato morning, Fables offers up a brand of indie folk that feels both hauntingly modern and deeply nostalgic. It’s a far cry from the high-octane energy of the Auckland rock scene, but there’s a different kind of ‘heavy’ here – the weight and depth of the raw, honest songwriting.

The album opens with Forgiving, a choir-esque, keys/synth-led intro that sets a moody, atmospheric tone. Bailey’s vocal delivery hits with a delicate strength that immediately brings to mind the likes of Billie Eilish or Halsey, but with a folk-country soul that keeps it grounded. By the time you hit Cacophony, the Goldenhorse vibes are undeniable – beautifully layered melodies bouncing off a soft rhythmic pulse and a subtle Telecaster line that intertwines perfectly with the keys.

There is a striking vulnerability throughout these twelve tracks. In songs like Sensitive, it feels like Bailey has laid everything out on the table, warts and all, gaining momentum through the three-minute mark until it melts into a powerful chorus. Her range is phenomenal, occasionally channeling the clarity of Karen Carpenter – a name some might need to look up, but once you hear the comparison, you can’t un-hear the pure, effortless talent.

While the album follows a consistent recipe of ‘easy listening with an edge,’ it’s the moments of rawness that really stand out. Eyes Closed strips away the layers for a pitch-perfect, open-soul performance that feels like a throwback to the 60’s, relying on genuine pipes rather than studio trickery.

The undisputed champion of the record is Minibar. It captures that Halsey-esque vocal grit again, building into a beautiful 6/8 drum beat that makes you feel like you’re tucked away in a corner of a dimly lit cocktail bar. The supporting bridge lets Bailey’s vocals belt out with incredible clarity, and the echoing chorus that sees the tune out is absolute perfection. I wouldn’t change a single note.

Even if this isn’t your usual go-to genre, the sheer quality of the songwriting here is undeniable. This is an album that manages to find space between the notes, refusing to crowd the listener with unnecessary instrumental breakdowns. Instead, it lets the vocals do the heavy lifting.

Despite the chaos of the outside world, be it the roar of a skillsaw or the general hum of a busy Tuesday, Change Is A Slow Moving Beast manages to cut through the noise. It’s a stunning piece of work that marks Fables as a serious force in the Aotearoa folk landscape.