Widowspeak - Plum (2020)

With Plum, the songwriting partnership rooted in the creative
rapport between bandleader Molly Hamilton and guitarist Robert
Earl Thomas continues to expand on shared visions, delving
deeper into what was always there: dusty guitars, ear-worm
melodies, warm expansive arrangements. Each entry to their
catalog has marked a subtle reimagining of Widowspeak’s sound,
though perennial points of reference remain the same: 90's dream
pop, 60's psych rock, a certain unshakeable
Pacific-Northwestness. Speaking to the timeless feeling of
each, the albums continue to be discovered well beyond their
respective PR cycles, made beloved by new listeners through word
of mouth.

The band’s fifth album feels comfortable and lived-in: humble in
structure, heavy on mood. Perhaps that came taking time off
from the touring grind, instead working full-time jobs and
settling into the rhythm of daily life in a small upstate New
York town. Plum was recorded over a handful of weekends last
winter by Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Kazu Makino, Hannah Cohen) at
his Flying Cloud studio in the Catskills, and was mixed by Ali
Chant (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding, Perfume Genius). In addition
to Hamilton (vocals, guitar) and Thomas (guitars, bass, synth),
it features instrumental contributions by Andy Weaver (drums),
Michael Hess (piano), and Sam himself (bass, synth). Plum
nestles into the band’s canon like it was always there, but with
new textures coming to the fore, like the polyrhythmic pulse of
"Amy" and "The Good Ones", or the watery, Terry
Riley-influenced track "Jeanie".

Plum navigates the spaces between the lesser emotions of modern
life. Hamilton’s lyrics speak to the unique turmoil of anyone
who creates as their work, who must somehow survive off such
"fruits of their labor." Yet, Widowspeak have always made a
bitter pill much easier to swallow. The majestic "Breadwinner",
the luminous "Even True Love" – these songs here were made to be
listened to, enjoyed. "Money" is particularly hypnotic, built
around a repeating, cyclical motif that serves as both skeleton
and body. "Will you get back what you put in?" Hamilton asks
over an insistent guitar riff. The line is delivered with a
knowingness that transcends its surface critiques of late-stage
capitalism, asking both herself and the listener whether this
is, in fact, the world we want to live in. Through Plum,
Widowspeak have brought something into the world that seems to
know its own worth, even as it wonders aloud about what is to
come. What value and meaning do we assign ourselves, our time,
and how do we spend it?