You Don't Own Me Anymore

Album review

As the years go by, the Secret Sisters are becoming less and less clandestine. The little secret of Laura and Lydia Rogers are their vocal harmonies. But also solid songs. Except this time, the work is born of suffering. Fired by their last label, struggling to find concert dates, embroiled in a lawsuit with their last manager and with a bank account that was looking distinctly anorexic, the Rogers sisters took refuge with their friend Brandi Carlile in Seattle who helped them get their lives back in order for the production of You Don’t Own Me Anymore. " It was in the hardest times that we saw the core of where our music and our souls originate. . We still had our homes, our family, our friends, and our fans. This is not a record about rising from the ashes. Rather, it is a deep look into ourselves in an attempt to put out the flames.  These songs are our catharsis; an effort to forgive, an effort to heal, an effort to look back into the darkness with newfound light and undeterred fearlessness, an effort to redeem ourselves. The damage was done, but our hearts remained; this is the product of that damage, for worse and for better. "Throughout You Don’t Own Me Anymore, we find the Secret Sister's undisguised love of Americana. A big, broad country. Only after having got a helping hand from the likes of T Bone Burnett, Jack White and Dave Cobb, they were finally able - thanks to Brandi Carlile - to get back to their own sound. And to finish up with a record that really sounds like them. A superb sally into neo-folk with a nod to country and the spirit of Tin Pan Alley. © MD/Qobuz