Laura Marling - Patterns in Repeat
“Everything about you is intuitive
So those who miss the point might rush right through it”
Laura Marling has returned with her eighth studio album, Patterns in Repeat, and it marks a new chapter in her journey. With over 14 years in the music industry, she’s explored a wide range of themes, sounds, and stories. This time, she dives into an intensely personal space, reflecting on her recent experience of becoming a mother. The album is as much a study of self as it is of maternal emotion, presenting Marling in the introspective, tender, and vulnerable light.
The album itself is a quiet revelation, a soft yet powerful reflection on the ways life and identity shift through motherhood. Absent of any drums, Patterns in Repeat flows gently, each song like a delicate bedtime story (one of the songs is literally called Lullaby). Marling’s emotions are woven so subtly into each lyric and melody that even someone like me—without children and unable to know the experience of birth—can still feel the warmth and depth of her journey.
Early on, Marling sets the tone with songs like Child of Mine, Patterns, and No One’s Gonna Love You Like I Can, which show her at her most heartfelt and sincere. These tracks unfold with a sense of closeness and honesty that pull you in, their simplicity mirroring the new role Marling inhabits. The title track, Patterns in Repeat, closes the album in an almost reflective loop, bringing everything full circle.
This album feels like a natural progression from Marling’s 2020 record, Song for Our Daughter, where she sang to an imagined child. Now, with her own child beside her, she brings that once-distant vision into reality, and it’s clear this new chapter shapes the very tone of Patterns in Repeat. The result is a tender, reflective work—one that isn’t for everyone, though. To truly feel this record, you have to listen beyond the surface, open to the quiet emotions and gentle reflections woven into each song.
With Patterns in Repeat, Marling has crafted an album that’s less about grand statements and more about presence—sincere, beautifully understated, and almost achingly real.
8.1/10
