There’s nothing like hearing a voice that just stops you in your tracks. The world grinds to a halt, there is nothing else in that moment. That’s how I felt hearing ‘Polar’ for the first time – and every time since. It doesn’t dazzle me with intricate runs, or by belting out big notes; I’m instead utterly entranced by how assured and effortless it feels. There’s a deep soulful melancholy as dark and rich as a fine wine, coexisting alongside moments as airy and delicate as a dandelion seed carried by the faintest breeze to pastures new. It follows every mournful cry and elegant uplifting swell of the gorgeous string accompaniment as easily as breathing. Everywhere it wanders there’s a comforting warmth to be found. Amelie Lucille’s voice feels like the golden glow of sunset. How it’s able to seep into every leaf, cascade down every roof tile, permeate every crack in the pavement, and in that one moment make the world feel like a more beautiful place. That in itself is something special, but to then emerge from my reverie, and discover that this spellbinding singer is only seventeen, just left me even more awestruck. To have such expressiveness, confidence and emotion in her vocals this early in her musical journey is simply astonishing, and I can’t wait to hear what’s next.