Lemolo
Red Right Return/self-released
There is an undeniable ghostly beauty to this record from Meagan Grandall. The lush vocals on Red Right Return play off of the swelling, often moody musical aesthetics, resulting in a euphoric experience. Ambient piano ballads such as “White Flag” are beautifully offset by alt-rock flair on tracks such as “One to Love,” and “Runner” employs a catchy time signature that holds you in its sway. “Backslide” and “Fuel” highlight Grandall’s adventurous spirit by combining jazz drum cadence, thrumming bass and an occasional layer of synths augmenting her siren song. The tracks are at times hopeful and mysterious, while others balance sonic beauty against dark lyrics, bound by a narrative of hanging on through the ups and downs.
Mercyland
Mercyland: Hymns for the Rest of Us, Vol. II/Mercyland Records
In this powerhouse collection that brings together Emmylou Harris, John Scofield, The Lone Bellow and others, there’s no shortage of raw gospel, Americana and soul. Whether it’s the dusky, desperate melancholia on Sugar + the Hi-Lows’ “God Don’t be a Stranger” or Angel Snow’s rapturously understated “I Said it, I Meant it,” these are not the cries of joyous saints, but the ragged utterances of the weary. And while the rockabilly gospel of the McCrary Sisters’ “Boom Chicka Boom” is decidedly upbeat in the face of trouble, it only takes one listen to Will Kimbrough’s stirring, down-tempo “Madness of the World,” with lines such as “Coltrane in the ’60s / Blind Willie lost in time / Mahalia, like an angel / The hymns of humankind,” to find the meaning of exorcising your demons through art.
Daughter
Not to Disappear/Glassnote Records
From its ruminations on motherhood (“Doing the Right Thing”) to how we cope with pain (“How”) and loneliness (“Alone/With You”), there is an intriguing thread throughout this record about the power and importance of human connection. Amid the broken relationships is a hypnotic combination of rock ‘n’ roll, ambient beats and electronica that gives the songs a (sometimes devastating) raw vulnerability. Singer-guitarist Elena Tonra’s slightly trembling vocals are confessional on songs such as “Made of Stone,” where she muses, “I think I am made of stone / I think we are all / Built out of memories.” And she is unflinching on “To Belong” in which she asks, “Don’t you think you’d be better off / Without me tied around your neck?” Not to Disappear is an album that touches you at your core.