High As Hope

Stripped to the bare bones of her soul and the sentiment, her truth shines--and there’s a beauty in that. The only thing holding it back is a lack of risk, but there’s still so much comfort in the familiar.

Welch widens the song's [Hunger's] scope from a specific personal battle with an eating disorder to a broader emphasis on universal craving for love and acceptance, but trite statements about the destructive nature of fame and drugs are emblematic of the album's overall tendency to retreat into sweeping, generalized sentiments. Welch strikes a more effective balance between the personal and the universal on “Big God.”

An album that is undoubtedly a progression from her previous work, filled with well-written songs but still frustrating to listen to. It gives the distinct impression that there is a different artist somewhere within Florence Welch, struggling against the desire for grandiosity and the kind of big musical statements that have powered her career. High as Hope suggests she should sweat the small stuff more often.

Big God runs up and down a subtler emotional scale, while the heartfelt Hunger emphasises Welch's admirable desire to connect. Yet High As Hope often feels like The Greatest Showman for people of drinking age, This Is Me for art students--an affirmation, not a challenge. [Aug 2018, p.88]

Lyrically, High as Hope forsakes Welch’s knack for vibrant imagery and symbolism for more human modifiers and concerns. While it allows her to share more personal information, Welch’s straightforward songwriting means there are no “Howl”’s or “Ship to Wreck”’s present here. ... Despite these critiques, High as Hope surpasses many of them to solidify itself as a decent record.