Grief, grace, and the luminous power of memory shine through in Tessa Rose Jackson's stunning folk rebirth!
Tessa Rose Jackson, a Dutch-British musician previously known for her dream-pop creations as Someone, has unveiled her first album under her own name, and it's a breathtaking departure. This new offering, The Lighthouse, is a richer, rawer exploration, born from solitude in rural France. It's an album that gracefully navigates the profound depths of ancestry, mortality, and the intricate tapestry of memory, all woven together with the warm, resonant threads of folk guitar. Imagine a journey that strums from the timeless artistry of Bert Jansch to the introspective echoes of REM, and then lands with the soulful sincerity of Sharon Van Etten – that’s the sonic landscape Jackson has crafted.
The album opens with its evocative title track, "The Lighthouse." Here, the perfect fifths of the guitar, the deep, resonant tones of woodwind, and the powerful rumble of percussion create an atmosphere of anticipation, guiding us towards a distant beacon on a "lonesome wind" during high tide. This journey is deeply personal, informed by the profound loss of one of Jackson's mothers during her teenage years. This poignant experience permeates her lyrics throughout the album. Take, for instance, "The Bricks That Make the Building," a gem of psych-folk that beautifully contemplates the fundamental elements of life – "the earth that feeds the garden / The breath that helps the child sing." Then there's "Gently Now," which begins with the serene sounds of birdsong before gently yet powerfully addressing how the passage of time can actually soften the edges of grief. Jackson's approach to this sensitive subject is wonderfully inquisitive, deeply poetic, and refreshingly honest.
But here's where it gets truly captivating: the album isn't solely steeped in introspection. A brighter, poppier production sensibility infuses The Lighthouse with a vibrant energy. Tracks like "Fear Bangs the Drum" and "Wild Geese" possess the confident, infectious spirit of singles by artists such as This Is the Kit or Aldous Harding. "Built to Collide," propelled by the energetic shimmer of percussive violin and driving drums, feels like a surefire hit, destined for radio airwaves. And then there's Jackson's voice – assured, captivating, and never arrogant. It floats effortlessly between moments of exquisite delicacy and spirited, spoken-word passages (sprechgesang). You'll find its most potent expressions in simpler, more intimate songs like the piano-led "Grace Notes," the poignant closing track "Prizefighter," and the utterly beautiful "By Morning," which opens with a guitar melody that instantly brings to mind the timeless brilliance of a Paul Simon classic. It truly is a luminous rebirth.
And this is the part most people miss: This month also brings other compelling releases worth exploring. Philip Weinrobe (known for his work with Big Thief and Adrianne Lenker) produced the fourth album by Irish folk band Ye Vagabonds, titled All Tied Together. It's a collection of slow-burning, deeply moving songs, populated by arresting characters who emerge from the mists, such as the "troubled teens and drag queens" in "On Sitric Road" and the youths "swimming in a river of smoke and serotonin" in "The Flood." Mary, with her "grey-eyed" gaze in "Mayfly," offers a moment of pure, uninhibited vulnerability when she smiles, "like she had nothing left to hide."
For those who enjoy a more gutsy and noisy approach to traditional music, Adam Weikert's To Whom Ourselves We Owe is a fascinating listen. It playfully reinterprets songs like "Farewell to the Green Man" with a practice chanter and Thai gongs, and transforms "Greensleeves" into something hauntingly sparse and barren with the use of a musical saw. And if you're craving something truly boundary-pushing, the collaboration between the late pedal steel player and Nomad War Machine, Contra Madre, is a thrilling, unexpected fusion of pedal steel artistry with the raw power of death metal.
What do you think about the way music can help us process grief? Does the blend of traditional folk with modern production appeal to you? Let us know in the comments below!
