EXTENDED PLAY 049: SARAH YAGKI | 'I LOVE YOU, I LIED' | EP REVIEW
Words by Mark Griffin.
On her latest EP, Sydney/Eora-based artist, Sarah Yagki, is opening up and revealing more of herself. Where her debut EP, A Love, That’s Dying, was at times angry and urgent— Evanescence given a 2022 indie pop make-over— her latest EP has sanded off the rough edges to create something slicker and far more cinematic. There is a raw energy on A Love, That’s Dying that is fitting for a debut but, listening to I Love You, I Lied, it’s encouraging to hear the ways in which Sarah has matured as both a songwriter and performer. For her sophomore outing the production is slicker and the songwriting has more depth as Sarah mines her own trauma in search of catharsis and meaning. The urgency and aggression is still there at times, but Sarah is also willing to be more dedicate on this record, never more so than on opener, Can’t Decide, that begins with a breathy count-in and gentle acoustic guitar work.
There is a sense of tonal cohesion to the EP as well. It builds track-by-track from that gentle opener. At the mid-point, Sick of You, is a solid mid-tempo groove featuring a phat, spacious bass-line and vocal that is accusing but with more restraint than perhaps was apparent on Sarah’s debut. There’s control on the chorus, and when she sings “I’m Sick of You,” there is a world weariness that cuts through the implied anger, as a funky almost ‘80s synth turns the track into a low-key dance anthem. Ecstasy brings back the Evanescence, but the production is slicker this time around and the effect is early-00s cinematic rather than garage-punk. This track also features Sarah’s favourite lyric, “…someone that I need, couldn’t watch me bleed…”, which also works as a handy shorthand for the emotional territory this EP covers.
All of this builds to the drama of lead single and title track, I Love You, I Lied, which closes out the EP with a defiant message of taking back one’s agency from those who might misuse our love. The chorus here is Sarah at her angriest on the EP and the line, “it’s a habit, nothing romantic” stays stuck in your brain long after listening.
Overall, this is an impressive sophomore release, featuring increased sophistication in production, composition and songwriting from Sarah. There are pop-hooks aplenty, lyrics that you can sink your teeth into and, crucially, Sarah is true to the urgency and raw emotion that has characterised her music to date. If she continues on this trajectory, we will be very excited to hear what comes next. Although, we are left wondering if her next extended release will also feature a comma in the title.