EP Review: Pale Light

Auckland’s Emily Bateman has always had a knack for pairing breathy pop vocals with lyrics that land with precision. Described by Happy Magazine (2023) as “undeniably nostalgic,” Bateman has quickly built a reputation as one of the city’s most compelling voices. With Spotify editorial support, an opening slot at the Powerstation, and now the release of her sophomore EP Pale Light, she’s steadily carving her space in the indie pop landscape.

Similar to her debut Like I Always Do, Pale Light leans into lush textures and reflective melodies. Her newest work, however, feels somehow bolder, sharper, and more urgent. Produced by Andrew Isdale, with Kahu Sanson-Burnett lending a hand on standout track What A Dream, the EP blends expansive arrangements with hooks that linger long after the final chorus fades.

From the opening track Most Wanted, Bateman makes her intentions clear with a mix of pop finesse and lyrical daggers that set the tone for what follows. “Save my spot, hold my place in line, everybody wants a moment of your time,” she sings with desperate sincerity, before undercutting the gloss with Taylor Swift–like bite: “I hold tight to the sinking ship, getting sick and tired of your power trip.”

I Know It’s Bad tilts toward pop rock with shades of Pink Floyd in its moody atmosphere. Lines like “I don’t remember this song, but it’s your favourite you say” add context to the throwback feel, while others – “Don’t try to wake me with your saviour’s kiss” – showcase Bateman’s ability to wrap profound weariness in melody. Sixth Sense drifts into a hazy groove, a Latin-tinged rhythm underpinning the refrain: “I always had a sixth sense for the end, but I admit I don’t wanna do it all again.” Both tracks feel expansive and cinematic, while Bateman’s airy vocal delivery keeps them rooted in intimacy.

Then comes What A Dream. The guitars roar a little louder, the drums push the story forward, and Bateman delivers a 90’s/2000’s-tinged rock-pop anthem about a caustic love affair, as ill-fated as it was compelling. A soaring guitar solo and the mantra-like refrain “Oh, what a dream” make it one of Bateman’s most anthemic songs to date.

Cold Shoulder is another highlight, calling back to the era of Vanessa Carlton’s A Thousand Miles. The lyrics are as cutting as they are vulnerable: “Don’t trust him with my heart, but I’ll hand it over.” It’s a perfect encapsulation of Bateman’s ability to marry relatability with raw self-exposure.

The closer, Dreamgirl, is a haunting ballad reminiscent of Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years – but darker, obsessive, and tinged with menace. “Am I your dream girl? … I’ll fix your damage, suck out the poison, befriend your enemies just so I can destroy them,” Bateman offers, with a mix of longing and unease. It’s almost too perfect that she ends her EP by invoking not one, but two iconic “A Thousand” songs (A Thousand Miles and A Thousand Years). Call it coincidence, call it subconscious homage – either way, Pale Light leaves listeners with the sense that Bateman has both subsumed generations of pop influences and adeptly reimagined them on her own terms.

Ultimately, Pale Light is a meditation on cognitive dissonance – the shoulds versus the wants, the contradictions of being bold yet vulnerable, nostalgic yet fresh, atmospheric yet unflinchingly direct. It’s the sound of an artist holding space for all of it and stepping into her voice with conviction. If her debut suggested Emily Bateman was one to watch, Pale Light confirms she has arrived.