Limbs

Limbs feels more emotionally erratic than its predecessor, and even more compelling for it, teetering between interiority and connection. [Apr 2022, p.45]

In its fullness and emptiness, all at once, Limbs is an album that dares the listener not to fall for it. Keeley Forsyth is a world builder and Limbs is an outstanding record.

Stark, resolute songs. [Apr 2022, p.85]

Its cumulative impact is immense, the singer giving everything she has to the music. Limbs may not be an easy listen, but Keeley Forsyth makes it an essential one, singing from the depths of her very bones.

Limbs is an arresting portrait of that mental state, one which is equal parts hopeful and harrowing. While each element has been particularly, even painfully, placed to present a certain image and mindset, there’s plenty of space left on the canvas to project one’s own thoughts and feelings, which is exactly the kind of engagement that an artist like Forsyth hopes to garner.