- Sarah Belkner is a Sydney singer-songwriter who falls neatly into the tradition that’s rolled on down from Kate Bush through Tori Amos, Regina Spektor and, for a little local flavour, the likes of Sarah Blasko.

The Sydney based Kiwi is better known to the folks down there as Sarah Mccallum, along with her outfit Miss Little. She’s been described as ‘the darling of the North Shore’ and it’s this regard in which she’s held that helped secure both Oz Council funding and a successful Pozible campaign to launch her debut EP in her new guise as Sarah Belkner.

To this endeavour she also lends her expertise as a choral composer, orchestrator and a bunch of collaborators -including producer husband Richard Belkner- to bring her florid songwriting to life. It’s these contributions which might throw you a little off track when you first hear the new EP. Opening and title track, Humans, snaps out syncopated beats, courtesy of drummer and MPC manipulator Evan Mannell. It’s wild and unsettling and reminiscent of the jaggedness that Arca brought to Björk’s last record, Vulnicura. The snaking electro isn’t quite as vicious as that however, and slithers into dark, libidinal dance territory where you’d find Bat For Lashes or Bertie Blackman, with whom both Belkner and Mannell have previous connections.

Don’t be fooled, you’ll already hear Belkner’s true temperament seeping in with the calm piano line of Human’s chorus. That sounds awful: like “a woman’s place is making serene, piano-driven singer-songwriter pap.” That isn’t it: even in the sedately paced synth croon that follows, Ego Blues, Belkner thoroughly subverts the singer-songwriter format with a lyrical stream-of-consciousness duet with the treacly baritone of Jack Ladder which verges on the psychotic: “I’ll turn electric volts into electric chairs / Into premeditate into a Christian cult / I’ll turn that Christian cult into a bastard son / Into a law of rules that murders everyone.”

It's got a medicated, woozy feeling that continues into With You, on a similar theme of love weighed down by issues. The flighty chorus, where Belkner’s voice darts about over Hammond organ and piano chords makes me think even more strongly of her debts to the style of Tori Amos. The orchestration being what it is, it sounds like Amos circa From The Choirgirl Hotel, but the real similarity is in their shared vocal inflections. The accent, slightly twee mannerisms and even similarly odd vowels and diphthongs. There’s also the thematic preoccupation with the human condition, feminine identity, religion and fractured love (although that’s fairly ubiquitous, isn’t it?) all bound up in abstract lyrics. The similarities are uncanny, sometimes.

In the end, I’m happy enough. I run hot and cold on Tori Amos these days and to hear someone else have a go at her oeuvre -maybe more successfully than Tori herself- is good. There is a lot to like on this EP, too. Blacken The Borders looks set to be another depressing slow-jam, but gathers up its distress into a swell of synthesised sax and towering bells, a properly gothic treatment.

The final number is the most Amos influenced of the lot and one of the EP’s best. Susanne is a piano ballad and Susanne herself comes across as a mystical figure, part best-friend, part philosophical ideal and some kind of spirit guide too. It’s full of sad warmth and powerful but finally abstract meaning.

With Sarah Belkner I really have to stop thinking about how close the apple falls to the stylistic tree. It’s undeniably close to the work of Tori Amos, but it’s undeniably good, too, and there’s not enough good Tori Amos to go around these days. Humans is a worthy addition to the tradition and I’m very happy for Belkner to keep on mining it.

- Chris Cobcroft.