On Desert Queen, Pearl Charles doesn’t just revisit a sound so much as inhabit a lineage, with a deep love for a particular era of songwriting and a particular type of cool. The album sounds like something rescued from a lost 70s reel-to-reel tape, chasing a cinematic timelessness that plays under golden-hour desert landscapes and neon-lit motel signs.

Her voice is the anchor, steeped in poise and understated southern charm. Even in rhinestones and cowboy boots, she resists country bombast with a sultry and controlled presence. The arrangements are gorgeous and glamorous, gliding between rootsy Americana and glittering pop-disco that leans into the lush sweep of ABBA or Dexys Midnight Runners. There’s a generosity to the instrumentation with strings, saxophones, flute, slide guitar and piano that recalls artists who treated pop as an expansive and limitless art form.

Just What It Is is a sun-kissed southern ballad led by a glowing piano, whilst Middle of the Night swaggers with warm percussion and guitar licks that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Santana slow jam. Step Too Far carries a gentle melodic richness reminiscent of Van Morrison with simple songwriting elevated by luxuriant textues.

When the disco shimmer returns on Givin’ It Up it’s soft and endearing rather than bombastic and diva-driven, and even on Nothing On Me where dub textures and steel-pan flourishes introduce a tropical lilt the vibe remains controlled and elegant rather than flamboyant and excessive. There’s extravagance in the instrumentation, but Pearl Charles herself remains grounded with a soft and composed voice that’s extremely likeable, leading with poise rather than raw power and letting her band supply the sparkle.

Birthday adds a playful edge, skewering ego and hollow ambition with a cool wink, and the closing track You Know It Ain’t Right ends the album ona  groovy note that’s perfect for a slow dance with a partner under low lights. Desert Queen feels like a love letter to an era when pop was cinematic, arrangements were rich, and the songwriting glowed, stretching the Americana template in all directions towards disco and soul without losing her glamorous and cool centre.

The lyrical terrain is classic Americana, with betrayals and fractured relationships, but Pearl Charles sings as someone who’s already processed the hurt with clarity and confidence in the delivery rather than melodramatic theatrics, and that composure extends to the band around her. The musicians are tight and professional, but are clearly enjoying themselves with swelling strings and rich arrangements that never overpower the melody.

Stretching across country, soul, disco, tropical pop, and Laurel Canyon romanticism, Desert Queen is a beautiful reminder of pop done right with taste, craft, and rhinestone sparkle.