Molly Rankin is the girl next door. But she’s smoking in the basement, writing gruff pop songs with irresistible hooks.
At 22, the youngest member of one of Canada’s most famous musical families, a songwriter with her tongue firmly planted in her own cheek, simultaneously honouring and transcending her own pedigree.
Molly’s songs are sweet, not saccharine, wise but not jaded, an old soul with a young voice, as fresh in face as in sound, with a wealth of songwriting instinct as yet barely tapped.
Molly’s songs aren’t simply the romantic musings of a young woman with tremendous pop sensibilities. Her approach is humorous, sad, shows tremendous sensitivity, her voice yields an affectedness that draws in the listener, there is an overwhelming sense of sincerity, but also of a distance, of the idea that Molly will never shine a light on all of her dark corners.
There are smoky secrets in her infectious pop offerings, irreverence in her words, a sense that there is levity and beauty attached to the heartbreak and hardship that’s an interminable part of everyday life.
Molly is a girl with secrets, her songs are but a brief window into the depths of her creativity and curiosity.