Cat Burns - How To Be Human

A stint as a traitor on BBC’s Celebrity Traitors has propelled Cat Burns to UK household name status, but her cunning on-screen personality belies this BRIT School alum’s heavily sentimental streak. That’s largely where this second album, ‘How To Be Human’ sits: where 2024’s debut ‘early twenties’ saw deft introspection and self-acceptance, ‘How To Be Human’ is far more concerned with soulfully expelling guttural trauma than indie-pop self-reflection. Here, then, is a young woman mining grief in two forms she deems near indistinguishable from one another - the death of her grandfather, and the end of a romantic relationship. Across ‘How To Be Human’, Cat chisels away at this pain, investigating the small yet mighty pieces, and adds them to the collection. Opener ‘Come Home’ is a numinous portrayal of death - a grief she later describes as “love with no place to go” on ‘All This Love’ (another heartbreaker that she confesses she hoped her grandfather could have heard her sing). On ‘Can’t Time Move Faster?’, she tearfully wishes to skim over the experience - it’s not entirely clear which one - in one of the record’s poppier moments. Later, acoustic star-crossed-love cuts call to mind her British singer-songwriter forebears, while the Scandi-infused ‘Sad Forever’ and British soul of ‘I Love You, But’ - necessary instances of affirmation in aim of survival - are far moodier and effective. On ‘How To Be Human’, Cat Burns’ voice is singed by loss, and although, largely, its 16-track run colours grief in no new strokes, its profundity and earnestness is no less admirable and emotive. A feat of a powerful songwriter with a bright future.