There’s a quiet confidence to Ellur that feels impossible to fake. On her debut album At Home In My Mind, out now via Dance To The Radio, the Halifax-based songwriter delivers a body of work that’s introspective without being insular, tender without losing bite, and emotionally open in a way that feels genuinely disarming.
Built from fragments of memory, feeling and place, At Home In My Mind plays like an open invitation into Ellur’s inner world. It’s an album shaped by contrast: the 90s indie rock she grew up with sits comfortably alongside moments of glitch-pop experimentation and the warmth of alt-folk. Rather than feeling restless, the record feels grounded – a reflection of a young artist learning to trust her instincts and live inside her own head a little more kindly.
Produced by Joel Johnston (Far Caspian) in his Leeds studio, the album expands on the themes Ellur first explored on her God Help Me Now EP, particularly the idea of connection. Connection to childhood, to place, to uncertainty – but also connection outward. These songs don’t posture or perform; they reach. There’s a sense that Ellur is writing not to impress, but to understand, and that honesty is the album’s greatest strength.
That sincerity hasn’t gone unnoticed. Early acclaim has been emphatic, with NME describing Ellur’s work as “indie-pop gold”, while DIY praised the record as “a poignant, personal document of a young woman navigating the uncertainty and insecurity of coming of age”. Dork highlighted her ability to merge “confessional songwriting with magnetic melodies”, and The Line Of Best Fit singled out her “sublime, swooning vocal you can almost wallow in”. Clash perhaps summed it up best, tipping Ellur as an “indie starlet-in-waiting”.
Radio support has followed suit, with sustained backing across BBC Radio 1 and BBC 6 Music, including a Maida Vale session and playlisted singles that have helped push Ellur firmly into the national conversation. Add to that endorsements from the likes of Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips, plus songwriting sessions and appearances alongside Antony Szmierek, Blossoms and Jade Bird, and it’s clear this is momentum built on substance, not hype.
Lyrically, At Home In My Mind captures the emotional fog of your early twenties with striking clarity – the push and pull between self-doubt and self-belief, the desire for stillness, and the slow realisation that understanding yourself is an ongoing process rather than a destination. Ellur’s own words frame the album perfectly: this is music made as “an arm extended out, looking for people who need a hand to hold”.
With an album release show in Hebden Bridge tonight, followed by a full UK tour and festival dates later this year, Ellur feels poised on the edge of something lasting. Not because she’s chasing trends or volume, but because she’s doing the harder thing – writing songs that are patient, human and deeply felt.
At Home In My Mind doesn’t shout for attention. It earns it.
