
A gorgeous, submerged take on 1970s AM radio pop. Deeply melancholic, lushly orchestrated, and quietly apocalyptic.
Baroque pop breakthrough
Tape hiss and acoustic guitars dissolve into a heavy, waterlogged organ, marking the moment Natalie Mering perfected her fusion of seventies AM radio warmth with eerie, modern dread. The music feels like sitting in a wood-paneled living room while a flood slowly rises past the windows. Her voice, steady and low, carries the clear, unaffected weight of Karen Carpenter, but she sings from the edge of a quiet apocalypse. Horns and slide guitars swell and drift like debris in a calm tide. It is a gorgeous, suffocatingly sad record that anchors her experimental folk into brilliant, cinematic pop.
Dusk saturates this record far more than the artist's norm.
Warmly received by critics, the album was widely praised for its lush, atmospheric production and the commanding depth of Natalie Mering's vocals. Reviewers particularly appreciated how the record balances direct, approachable melodies with a beautifully haunting, intricate complexity.
“Mering has attained universal connectedness while allowing us into her own excruciatingly cathartic purview, no easy feat”Read review
“Overflows with the misty sounds of late ’60s folk and ’70s AM radio, but her presence in these songs is modern and slyly knowing”Read review
“The apocalypse has found its smoke-voiced sibyl”Read review
“The deep blue gravity of Natalie Mering’s voice remains Weyes Blood’s focal point”Read review
“Beautiful, unsettling and wholly compelling”Read review
“Accessible without ever being simple, it’s one worth getting into, even if the way is labyrinthine”Read review
“One of the year’s most affecting and luscious releases”Read review
“This is Mering’s most direct-sounding album by far”Read review
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