Midwife

Midwife creates a sound that Madeline Johnston calls 'heaven metal,' a term that perfectly captures the tension between the celestial and the crushing. It is music that moves at the speed of a tectonic plate, built on glacial guitar drones, skeletal drum machine pulses, and vocals that sound like they are being whispered through a thick layer of gauze. There is a profound sense of space here, reflecting the high-desert landscapes of New Mexico where much of it is conceived.

What makes Midwife truly distinctive is the way she uses lo-fi recording techniques to enhance the emotional weight rather than obscure it. The tape hiss, the long decays of the chords, and the buried melodies create a feeling of intimacy and distance simultaneously. It is the sound of someone processing immense grief in real-time, turning devastation into something shimmering and strangely beautiful. The songs often feel like hymns for people who have stopped going to church but still need a place to put their sorrow.

For those new to her world, 'Luminol' or 'Forever' are the ideal entry points. These albums showcase her ability to take the DNA of slowcore and shoegaze and strip them down to their most essential, vulnerable elements. It is music for the quietest hours of the night, when you are ready to stop running from your thoughts and finally sit with them.