If you happen to like your rock music tagged with prefixes of “indie” or “folk” or “low-fi and sad as hell,” there’s a good chance Spotify told you to move to Burlington, Vermont, via 2023’s Spotify Wrapped. On the surface, it seems like a random and arbitrary choice (and to a certain extent, it most certainly was), especially because many of Spotify’s most prominent artists don’t hail from the state — acts like Big Thief, Boygenius, and Car Seat Headrest. Squint and such bands do seem to evoke the leafy landscape of the Northeast, but then there are those who actually originate from the area and, with albums as special as Lily Seabird‘s Alas,, deserve to be on the radar of anyone and everyone Spotify invited to their Burlington commune.
Alas, follows the songwriter’s 2021 debut Beside Myself, which introduced Seabird as a fearless writer just as interested in fuzzed-out catharsis as understated, melancholic beauty. Folk-rock barn burners like “Bug” and woozy dreamscapes like “Girl” alike illuminated the inherent and varied charm of her work. In the three years since that record’s release, both the indie scene and Seabird have only continued to grow into themselves. Big Thief and Boygenius are headlining festivals, Wednesday topped just about everyone’s year-end lists with Rat Saw God, and Seabird has come through a set of tunes that fully realizes the promise of her first outing.
Right out of the gate, opener “Take It” succinctly presents the refinement of Seabird’s exploratory sound. What starts as a solitary confession builds itself piece-by-piece into an impassioned full-band affair, providing an introduction to the project’s two main approaches of exploring heart-piercing emotions: softly contemplative and chaotically explosive.
Occupying the more restrained former camp is a collection of songs with plotting grooves and the type of melodies so warm and familiar you can’t believe you’re hearing them for the first time. “Angel” is Adrianne Lenker-esque and features intimate, crackling lead vocals, “Domino” fulfills the promise of a true solo performance, and “Over and Over Again (Searching For You In the Space)” methodically sways and, despite boasting a few tasteful crunchy guitar chords, finds its power in it’s quietest moments.
Then, there are the tunes where Seabird has the band turn their amp’s gain nobs a few notches higher, supplementing the delicacy of her songs with a sharper, driving edge. “Grace” violently swings back and forth between a jaunting, feel-good jam and squealing walls of clipping, feedback-laden guitars, and “Waste” loses none of its grace despite swapping dry acoustics for electrics with sizable pedalboards.
