With Dog Eared, Billie Marten releases her fifth album – a dreamy, airy self-portrait. The ten songs by the British singer-songwriter feel light, gentle, at times tinged with melancholy, but always carried by a quiet optimism and sense of self-acceptance.
Acoustic guitar, subtle percussion, and soft piano form a delicate backdrop for Marten’s clear and expressive voice. Some tracks feel like they are from the 1990s; others echo the introspective tone of artists like Maria Mena or Dillon – thoughtful voices of talented songwriters carried by structured, emotional, yet effortlessly light pop.
Dog Eared is lyrical and life-affirming. Despite its lyrical density and emotional depth, the album never feels overwhelming. In “No Sudden Changes”, the tone becomes jazzier and more vulnerable, with lines like “I’m the dust in the breeze” – a quiet meditation on the desire to be seen.
“Leap Year” takes its time. The track shows that beauty doesn’t require emotional grand gestures – just acoustic guitar, soft synths, and subtle jazz-inflected harmonies. In “Goodnight Moon”, self-reflection blends with soft guitar riffs and gently interwoven piano motifs.
With Dog-Eared, Marten looks back on her coming of age with a graceful balance of introspection and ease. The songs feel carefully chosen, like pages from a diary where each dog-ear has been placed with intention.
This is a coming-of-age album that doesn’t need to be loud to say something meaningful. Musically freer and more structured than Drop Cherries (2023), emotionally more grounded than her debut Writing of Blues and Yellows (2016), Dog Eared marks an artist who has found her style – one that no longer needs to impress or explain, but simply exists, and is quietly beautiful.