Review Summary: it’s up to me now.
Julien Baker has been quite the burning phenomenon in today’s modern folk (as well as emo) scene, which she initially established herself in as a newcomer with 2015’s ethereal introspection,
Sprained Ankle. With cuts like “Go Home” and “Something”, she established not only intense lyrical depth, but also intricately heart-tugging instrumentals. As beautifully sound and creatively honed in as she displayed herself, it still seemed like there was something missing. Maybe it was more varied structuring, more influences, maybe instrumental variation (as
Sprained Ankle only featured guitars and piano), but I couldn’t put my finger on it;
nobody seemed to be able to. But, it was within the first notes of
Turn Out The Lights that I realized; she needed hope.
The guitars glimmer more than they used to, the pianos linger at the forefront, the vocals carry, and the songwriting most importantly displays maturity, resulting in bountiful beacons of heart and hope that Julien needed to not only grow as an artist, but as a musician. Songs like lead single “Appointments” and “Happy To Be Here” paint more colors on the canvas of
Turn Out The Lights than the somewhat expected (never in a negative connotation) neutrals and fades that have already been running rampant in Julien’s style, which is always refreshing to hear. The production is simmering and as clear as ever, giving the instrumentation so much room to prosper, even if it may be at the cost of the more DIY execution on
Sprained Ankle. But, the beautiful thing about
Turn Out The Lights is that it’s not
Sprained Ankle by any means.
There is definitely a change and a set of noticeable influences this time around, which strangely enough gives Julien even more of an identity. Ironically, I hear the same consistent elegance on here that I did on Interpol’s
Turn On The Bright Lights, where a lot of the guitar-work and especially bass guitar lines seep inspiration from songs like “Untitled” and “NYC” off of
TOTBL in their brazen glory. The variation in overall instrumentation and scope from the immediately tear-inducing strings of the opening track, to the various guitar tones that appear all throughout the record -- it’s clear there’s a lot more to dig into this time around, and I’m sure the same slow burn that
Sprained Ankle possessed will reveal itself in
Turn Out The Lights as well.
The songwriting dynamics also has increased in detail, with Julien’s diction improving humbly. I legitimately had to pull out a dictionary at points during my first listen, which is far from a bad thing; in fact, it’s quite refreshing. The topics she goes through have also jumped around from just self reflection after self reflection and so forth, where the water she seemed to be staring into with
Sprained Ankle could have mudded itself after a while. Songs like “Hurt Less” tackle self preservation, which seems like it would be a load of broken glass on a race track on anything other than
Turn Out The Lights, but that only reaffirms the maturity and shell-breaking that lies within every aspect of this record. There are standout lines all over this thing, like no other record I’ve ever seen, with almost every track having a line that clings to my gray matter, such as:
”the harder I swim, the faster I sink” or a line like
”If I could do what I want, I'd become an electrician. I'd climb inside my ears, and I'd rearrange the wires in my brain” from “Sour Breath” and “Happy To Be Here” respectively. The songwriting still has some room to grow, as there are some topics that seem like they could be redundant with repeated listens, but with Julien’s cathartic and tenfold improved vocal performances to back the writing here, it’s almost hard to imagine that.
The maturity and hope that was lingering in the background and almost biting in songs on
Sprained Ankle has been revisited and presented in color, with the endless marching forward that seems to be represented by
Turn Out The Lights. The voice Julien Baker represents is less about her, like it was on
Sprained Ankle, and it plays out more as a voice for those stagnant and sinking. With the triumphantly firmamental instrumentation, and
thatvoice, which bleeds that senseless mustering for what it takes to move forward that we all know too well, it’s not hard to see why Julien has managed to become the indie-folk darling she has become recently and will continue to mesmerize as. It’s because, with an album like
Turn Out The Lights, she now shows us something on full display -- something that everybody else strives for but can’t seem to yield no matter how hard they try; hope.
