Remedy

Album review

It's remarkable to listen to Azure Ray—the dream-pop duo of Maria Taylor and Orenda Fink who debuted in 2001—today and realize how neatly their music, two decades later, dovetails with the "cottagecore" trend now associated with Taylor Swift. (In Azure Ray's heyday, the sound was called "whispercore.") Warm like candlelight, gentle like a breeze, with breathy, winding harmonies floating above an ambient soundtrack, it is music for daydreaming, rainy mornings, self-care time. (To give you another clue, special editions of this album are sold with an essential-oils roller.) Azure Ray was part of the early-to-mid aughts Saddle Creek scene that spawned Bright Eyes, Cursive and Jenny Lewis' solo career, improbably centered in Omaha, Nebraska (where Taylor and Fink moved after forming in Athens, Georgia, shortly following the death of Taylor's boyfriend—an event that would color many of the band's early songs). But Azure Ray's music, while as fragile-seeming as early Bright Eyes, was without the weary cynicism that attached itself to much of the Saddle Creek output. Time hasn't changed that so much. Songs like the single "Remedy" hint at fear and longing, but the lyrics remain more obtuse than, say, Swift's yarn-spinning style (no Betty nor Inez here to figure out): "I stand alone in an empty room/ Scared to stay, scared to move/ Little beasts clawing at my door/ I call for peace, they call for war." "Swallowing Swords" and "Phantom Lover" luxuriate in their gauziness. "Already Written" applies strings to amplify the bittersweetness. “Grow What You Want and How Wild” and “29 Palms” tap into pretty classic folk; honestly, “Desert Waterfall” is not that far off from New Age—and god knows there's a place for that in today's wellness-obsessed world. “The Swan” (“What tore your fingers back from your clenched-up fists? You closed your eyes with confidence”) and "Bad Dream" hint at all that Taylor and Fink have seen over the past 20 years, the latter offering a whisper of a warning to the young women following in their footsteps. "And oh, all these conversations/ Circle 'round like a carousel/ Oh, here we're going down again/ This time I'm gonna wish you well/ And watch as it gets spun into a memory," they sing. It's a bit like Joni Mitchell and her "Circle Game," telling of the dangers of the nostalgia trap, and it's welcome. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz