This is the song that led me to discover the genius of Australian songsmith Julia Jacklin five or six years ago.
Born in Sydney and raised by teachers in New South Wales, she was working in a factory and planning to become a social worker until music became her life.
She’s a wordsmith, like Nick Cave – also the son of a teacher – and this song is an anthem of female empowerment and emancipation. “I don’t want to be touched all the time,” she sings, “I raise my body up to be mine.”
It reminds me, thematically, vocally and in its country-tinged folk-adjacent melancholia married to a weary defiance that verges on euphoria, of Sharon Van Etten’s break-up epic Are We There, and especially her song Every Time The Sun Comes Up.
Jacklin’s lyric is equally devastating: “He said ‘Give me another drink’ / You know it’s easy to talk when you don’t have to think”- and the final couplet will resonate with every woman who’s endured a toxic relationship: ” I’ll say it ’til he understands / You can love somebody without using your hands.”
It is no surprise to learn that it was drawn from real life; its authenticity seeps from every note. “It’s not a song that comes from a singular experience,” she explains. “It came from two years of feeling like the space around me shrinking to the point where I couldn’t even raise my arms.
“This song is me raising my arms and running into an open field. A bit of a plea to those around me to give me space and a song to remind myself that’s it’s okay to enforce boundaries, the good people in your life will listen, adapt and still love you.”
She adds: “I used to be so worried about seeming demanding that I’d put up with anything, which I think is common—you want to be chill and cool, but it ends up taking so much of your emotional energy.
“Now I’ve gotten used to calling out things I’m not okay with, instead of just burying my feelings to make it easier on everyone. I’ve realized that in order to keep the peace, you have to speak up for yourself and say what you really want.”
Amen to that.