Elles Bailey - “Can’t Take My Story Away” (2026)

Reviewed by Matt James • 26 January 2026
Elles Bailey has never been an artist to stand still. Across her five albums of original material, she has steadily refined her songwriting voice, broadened her sonic palette, and deepened the emotional honesty at the heart of her work. But with “Can’t Take My Story Away” she steps into a new realm entirely: one shaped by resilience, self-possession and a refusal to let anyone else define her narrative.

Three years in the making, the album emerged from an intriguing creative crossroads. Bailey initially approached producer Luke Potashnick with the intention of making a straight-up rock record. Potashnick, however, envisioned something more nuanced, and together they crafted a project that balances power with vulnerability, swagger with introspection. Their collaboration unfolded while Bailey was simultaneously working on her 2024 chart-topping album “Beneath The Neon Glow”, creating a fertile period of artistic cross-pollination.

The result is a record that feels both expansive and intimate, polished yet deeply human. Potashnick’s production is sumptuous without being overbearing: every instrument has room to breathe, every vocal line sits in a space that feels intentional. The album has clarity and openness, offering a listening experience that holds its richness whether blasted through speakers or played quietly in the small hours.

Opening with a confident swing, the title track has horns punctuating the rhythm with a brightness that immediately lifts the mood. It’s a bold, positive introduction: one that sets the tone for the record’s overarching message of self-ownership. The lyric leans into the idea that no matter what life throws at you, your story remains yours to shape. Additional writing contributions from Dan Bettridge help give the track its emotional clarity and melodic strength.

A soulful, classic R&B-infused number, ‘Growing Roots’ feels warm and lived-in. The backing vocals offer call-and-response moments that enrich the groove, while the guitar work: played with understated finesse: adds a subtle sparkle. The song has been out for a while as Bailey’s album teaser and has received positive responses from radio making Radio 2’s A list.

Originally recorded for a charity tribute album honouring songwriter Matt Long (Catfish), ‘Better Days’ returns here in a refreshed, gently bluesy form. Bailey secured permission from Long’s parents to rework the track, and the result is tender yet uplifting. The short guitar break keeps the song buoyant, while the lyric encourages looking forward rather than dwelling on past pain. Its pop crossover sensibility makes it one of the album’s most accessible moments.

‘Blessed’ is a standout ballad: lush, heartfelt and beautifully arranged. Delicate strings and keys take centre stage adding emotional weight without tipping into sentimentality., Nina Harries double bass grounding the track in warmth. Co-written with Ashton Tucker, the song explores gratitude and the quiet strength found in being loved for who you truly are.

Bailey steps into Americana territory on ‘Constant Need To Keep Going.’ The production evokes endless highways and wide-open skies: Ethan Johns fuzz guitars echo in the distance, drums mimic the steady roll of train wheels. The lyric captures the restless drive to push forward even when you’re not entirely sure why: “There’s a constant need to keep going, and I don’t know where to go,” Bailey sings, her voice carrying both weariness and determination. It’s a track that feels cinematic, almost dust covered.

A burst of funky blues energy, ‘Take A Step Back’ sees the rhythm section of Jeremy Stacey (drums) and Nigel Harries (bass) bringing a butt jiggling swagger to the track. Horns return to the foreground, adding a vintage soul flavour reminiscent of 1960s Memphis and Motown sessions. The guitar work nods to classic players of that era too: tasteful, rhythmic, and full of character. It’s one of the album’s most danceable tracks, and a reminder of Bailey’s ability to blend genres with ease.

‘How Do You Do It’ brings Bailey back to her blues roots, but with a playful twist. A touch of honky-tonk piano gives it a barroom charm, and the vocal delivery carries a wink of mischief. It’s a shorter, punchier moment on the record, offering a breather between the more emotionally heavy songs.

Defying expectations for a song titled ‘Angel,’ this is no soft-focus ballad. Instead, it’s an upbeat R&B-tinged blues number co-written with Aaron Lee Tasjan. The lyric centres on being present for someone when they need support: “It’s only at night we see the angel,” Bailey sings, hinting at the quiet ways people show up for each other. The horns and rhythm section give the track a radiant glow.

A gentle, piano-led ballad, ‘Dandelions’ is delicate without being fragile. Subtle drums, soft guitar lines and a whisper of organ create a tender backdrop for Bailey’s vocal. Co-written with Tamara Stewart, the song feels like a moment of stillness: a breath taken in the middle of life’s chaos.

‘Tightrope’ follows naturally from ‘Dandelions,’ continuing the introspective mood. Co-written with Blaine Harrison (Mystery Jets) and Henry Grace, the track balances vulnerability with poise. The arrangement is understated, allowing the lyric’s emotional tension to shine through. It’s a song about navigating uncertainty, about learning to trust your footing even when the ground feels unsteady.

The album’s emotional apex. ’Starling’ begins with a stark pairing of Bailey’s voice and piano, her vocal almost a murmur. As the song unfolds, strings and organ drift in, drums rumble like distant thunder, and backing vocals swell. The track builds and builds until Bailey’s voice rises to full power: raw, commanding, and utterly arresting. It’s a masterclass in dynamic storytelling, and Potashnick’s production is at its most cinematic here. The credits reveal a rich ensemble behind the scenes, including string players Laura Anstee, Emma Sheppard and Rebekah Allen, whose contributions help elevate the track’s emotional intensity.

The production by Luke Potashnick is one of the album’s defining strengths. His ability to create space; letting instruments breathe, allowing Bailey’s vocals to sit naturally in the mix; gives the record an open, immersive quality. Whether played loud or quietly late at night, the album retains its richness and clarity.

The writing credits reflect a collaborative spirit: Bailey and Potashnick co-wrote the majority of the tracks, with select contributions from Dan Bettridge, Ashton Tucker, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Blaine Harrison, Henry Grace, Tamara Stewart and Matthew Long. This blend of voices enriches the album without diluting Bailey’s artistic identity.

Lyrically, the record carries a wisdom earned through lived experience. These aren’t blues clichés about heartbreak for heartbreak’s sake; they’re reflections on growth, resilience, connection and self-worth. Bailey has always been a storyteller, but here she digs deeper, unafraid to expose the tender parts of her journey.

“Can’t Take My Story Away” is more than a collection of songs: it’s a statement of identity. It captures Elles Bailey at a creative peak, blending genres with confidence and delivering performances that feel both technically assured and emotionally resonant. The album’s themes of self-determination and personal truth resonate strongly, and the musical artistry: from the horn arrangements to the string sections to Bailey’s unmistakable voice makes it a joy to revisit.

A richly detailed, emotionally intelligent and musically expansive triumph, “Can’t Take My Story Away” confirms Elles Bailey as one of the UK’s most compelling contemporary roots artists. Drawing on blues, soul, Americana and classic R&B, the album feels like a culmination of everything she has built since “Wildfire”: but with a new depth, confidence and creative boldness.

With this release, Bailey not only cements her place among the UK’s most compelling roots artists but also delivers a contender for album of the year: one that will linger long after the final notes fade.