by Eric Bennett (@seething_coast)
Johanna Warren’s new album is a reintroduction. For her fifth solo album, Chaotic Good, the St. Petersburg, Florida musician intended on choosing a new stage name until she realized that, by having performed under her real name for so long, she had already created a character. With this character in mind, and inspired by the alignment system in Dungeons & Dragons—a sort of moral compass—Warren’s decision to name her record Chaotic Good is fitting. Like the tenants of that alignment, the record has a clear conscience; even when Warren calls things out, she is stern but never caustic. The album isn’t afraid to take new directions and doesn’t let itself get stuck in tradition as many other folk records do.
In addition to her work in music, Warren also practices plant-based medicine, reiki healing, and tarot. Music is also a form of healing for her. In an interview with The Creative Independent, Warren recounts fighting a migraine by laying in the tub and singing a note that matched the frequency of the pain, holding that note till it stopped. For the D&D fans who notice this album because of its title, don’t think of her as just a bard: she’s multiclassed into druid or cleric, too.
Opening with “Rose Potion,” Warren’s familiarity with nature and its inherent magic is evident. Singing of drinking a potion made from roses grown in her own garden, Warren ponders the differences in worldview between herself and someone close to her: “What you call God / I call the mysteries of the universe.” Her cadence on the song’s verses is broken and staccato, making it feel like a chant, eventually leaping into a flutter on its chorus.
The record takes many chances to sidestep classic folk music conventions, letting Warren play with different moods and instruments. The haunting “Bed of Nails” is allowed to wash over the listener in a way that calls to mind the music of artists like Hand Habits. Aside from the scraping sound lent by acoustic guitar, the song creates a lush soundscape of airy synths and hypnotic keys. The melancholy of its musical arrangement is accompanied nicely by Warren’s thoughtful lyrics in which she confronts denial, as well as how ignoring problems sometimes seems like the only way they won’t feel real. With every time she repeats “each day it’s a little harder to believe,” the message’s impact grows more real and sobering.
The album’s midpoint, and experimental peak, comes with “Twisted.” Warren’s stellar voice takes center stage here, reaching unbelievable heights of emotion. Whether it’s a vocal effect or her voice really can reach such a powerful pitch is irrelevant with such an affecting delivery. As the song comes to a close, her voice begins to chip away, as if dissolving into smoke. There isn’t really a chorus to the song, but each few lines follows the same pattern, rising and falling and then rising high. She creates tidal waves of emotion with her voice. Warren’s guitar tone carries the slightest tinge of fuzz, as if torn out of an early Liz Phair song.
By embracing the aspects of role playing inherent to life, Warren has created her most fresh and inventive work to date. Her presence is felt in each note, and every song is draped in a mood perfectly selected for it. Warren’s music has a spellbinding aspect, and whether it comes from her delicate, quivering vocal tone or from the looping effect in her arrangements, each song feels unique. It's evident upon the first listen that no one else could have made this record.