Always a woman - Laura Marling's Semper Femina

Sometimes it just works this way: Yesterday, I was celebrating the 30th anniversary of The Joshua Tree, today I'm listening to an album in part inspired by a trip into the same part of California's Mojave Desert; two days ago the world was celebrating International Women's Day. And now Laura Marling has released an album all about womanhood, Semper Femina. It's a title which, for those not schooled in Latin (such as myself, who clearly had to look it up), means "always a woman", and reflects an exploration of Marling's own femininity as well as those of women in general.

But, first, the music. I first came to Marling without knowing that she was regarded as part of the 'new posh folk' movement (Mumford & Sons and Noah & The Whale - of whom she dated the former's Marcus Mumford and the latter's Charlie Fink). My interest was piqued purely by comparisons with John Martyn - an unusual reference point for anyone in her then-early twenties - but as much for her acoustic guitar skills as any other more hackneyed aspect. It was a welcome and valid comparison all the same.

Inevitably, when you mention 'folk' and 'female' in the same sentence, the Joni Mitchell comparisons flood in, but I'd never really consider Marling in this context with her Mercury Prize-nominated debut Alas, I Cannot Swim, or much of its four successors. But on Semper Femina - perhaps due to her relocation to Los Angeles and absorption of the slightly way-out Californian way of life - there is a distinct note of Mitchell's stylistic breadth.

Working with Blake Mills - whose past production credits include Alabama Shakes along with guitar sessions for Paulo Nutini, Carlene Carter, Dixie Chicks and Lana Del Rey, amongst many others - Marling adds new textures to her brush strokes. While never straying far from a core of introspective singer-songwriting, there is a pleasing variety on this, her sixth album. From the opening track Soothing and its pulsing, trip-hop rimshot beat, to the more frenetic Next Time, which obliquely addresses the denouement of sexually ambiguous relationship trauma, ending with "I don’t want to be the kind, Struck by fear to run and hide." The Valley takes a similar turn, a very pretty song that again makes reference to an unspecified and unsuccessful friendship (I know she stayed in town last night, Didn’t get in touch. I know she has my number right, She can’t face seeing us".

But despite alluding throughout to romantic and interpersonal upheavals, this is not a melancholy trawl through the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart. There is a pleasing serenity to tracks like Always This Way and Don't Pass Me By, and the album ends with Nothing, Not Nearly with the lines: "We've not got long, you know, To bask in the afterglow, Once it's gone it's gone, Love waits for no one" followed by the sound effects of a garden and birdsong.

The womanhood theme rides throughout, with Nouel containing the refrain "semper femina" - a Greek classical reference which Marling first entertained as a tattoo at the age of 21. Nouel is about an LA artist, and celebrates her being both "fickle" and "unchangeable". If anything, it's a celebration of womanhood, of free spirits. And coupled to the honey-coated warmth of Marling's vocal, it is a notable high point on a album of many other hight points, an album by turns accessible, deep, engrossing and soothing. And fabulous.