Echo The Diamond

Chronique

Margaret Glaspy's 2015 debut Emotions and Math was a promise of an exciting new talent: charmingly idiosyncratic, touching on indie pop and grunge and jazz, and making unpredictable vocal choices. She was a bit like a wild, galloping horse—you didn't know which way she'd go, but it was usually exciting and sometimes beautiful. Glaspy's follow-up, 2020's Devotion, put a glossy sheen over all the idiosyncrasies that make her so appealing. But she's taken control of her own destiny for her third album, co-producing it with her longtime partner, provocative jazz guitarist Julian Lage, and it's a thrill. Echo the Diamond feels alive—fuzzy and humming and throbbing—and not worried about being clean. The title track, in particular, is terrific with its quirky melody and guitar crunch. It's both effortless and surreally romantic: "Violet shines bright in both your eyes/ That can't be natural/ Indigo flares up in your hair/ That can't be natural/ Am I seeing clearly?/ Can those marigold ears hear me?" "Get Back" finds Glaspy in a sludgy '90s mood, fingers sliding on strings as she sings "You told me to get baaaaaaaack," drawing out that syllable to something that's, well, unnatural. "Female Brain" is reckless and punk-edgy, kicking in with the command "Don't be a dick." The take was actually from rehearsal, and it sounds perfectly unpolished. "We were playing purely on instinct, in a way that was very physical and almost like falling off the edge of a cliff," Glaspy has said of her band. "Memories," meanwhile, is the "only [take] I was able to get through completely … It was a level of vulnerability I'd never gotten to on record." A sorrowful '50s-ish doo-wop melody, with a pretty yet sorrowful guitar solo, the song is about a "very specific loss" and it's devastatingly human. "I don't want the good with the bad/ Why can't this be the only time I've ever had … For an hour I forget/ Then my heart starts paying debts," Glaspy sings, sounding so real and raw. "Irish Goodbye" rocks, albeit with a tinge of sadness. "My Eyes" majestically swells into a bittersweet symphony of John Lennon guitar melody and cresting drums. "I Didn't Think So" plays it musically spare for the verses then crashes in, slurring and messy and lovely in a way that's reminiscent of the Grifters or Dambuilders circa 30 years ago. The guitar on "Hammer and the Nail" reverberates like a feeling you can't shake off, with Glaspy unleashing a low growl to sing about dimming a little bit of yourself to let someone else shine: "Sometimes I strike out when I know how to hit the homerun … This goddamn song is so true/ I can hardly sing along." © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz