8/10

If 2023’s 'CACTI' was Billy Nomates yelling into the void, 'Metalhorse' is her stepping inside it. Gone is the minimalist spikiness that first defined her. In its place, a record that sprawls without losing precision, pulling threads from folk, piano balladry, and swampy blues to weave something that feels more lived-in, less armoured, and all the more resonant for it.

This is her first proper studio effort, and it shows. Recorded in the golden heat of Seville with her live bandmates Mandy Clarke and Liam Chapman, 'Metalhorse' has all the bones of punk still rattling beneath the surface, but they’re dressed now in velvet and rust. Producer James Trevascus illuminates the edges where each creak of the floorboards feels purposeful.

The concept of 'Metalhorse' as a battered fairground might sound heavy-handed on paper, but in practice, it’s subtle yet cinematic. You don’t need to know the rides by name; you just feel the stomach drop, the flash of light, the rust under your fingertips. There’s no fixed narrative, but that’s the point: life doesn’t unfold on rails. The highs and lows blur, and 'Metalhorse' captures that blur with uncanny clarity.

Take 'Dark Horse Friend', a standout duet with The Stranglers’ Hugh Cornwell, a collaboration that is both compelling and spiritually charged. Knowing her late father passed down his love of The Stranglers makes the track feel like a message in a bottle tossed between lifetimes.

What’s most striking is how 'Metalhorse' never lets itself spiral into despair. It teeters, yes, but it always regains its footing. There are flashes of absurdity, flashes of hope, and lyrics that sidestep grand statements in favour of candid, poetic honesty. The ride’s broken, the lights flicker, but Billy Nomates is still dancing under them. Still offering you a hand and a reminder to look around while you still can.

In the world of 'Metalhorse', the fairground may be falling apart, but the music is still ringing out louder than ever.