by René Cobar (@renefcobar)
Like most years that join the rear-view mirror, 2022 develops its hazy complexion. As it does, brilliant highlights cut through the fog. One of those lights is Squirrel Flower's latest record Planet EP. The self-produced effort, released last January, earmarks a chapter in the artistic career of Ella Williams that is worth exploring for its clarity of emotion. That is to say that each track of the seven is soaked with feelings, seemingly evolved throughout the project's life, that reach an honest, transparent point.
The opening track, "Open Wound," strips away the pounding drums and overdriven bass lines that defined Williams' 2021 Planet (i) album in favor of an ambiance that soft acoustic guitar plucks at distance sustain. It is a sharp contrast that is a delight to take in fully. Within those musical trickles and transitions, Williams' commanding voice layers thick the harmonies and confessions, swelling alongside the music to create a soundscape that, complemented by city ambiance, sets a pleasurably reflective tone for the record throughout.
As the album continues with tracks like "Unravel," a cover of Björk's tried and true song, Williams submerges us further into the music with her vocal strength. Through lyrics, she permits imagery to take over as balls of yarn and undone hearts pierce the mind. If allowed, the track alone can be its own world signed in Williams' style, but there's more to explore.
"Sitting in Traffic," with its bursts of echo-y guitar strums and twinkling piano scales, paves the road for grander tracks like "Ruby at Dawn" to capture imaginations with their sustained organ notes and slap-like drums. You can repeat each track to bask in its character, recognizing it more and more with each play. Each song has its chosen lead instruments. Be it a perfectly-placed piano melody or a supple guitar, or the ascending vocals of Williams, all match the intensity of each number, soft or grand, and stamp it with character. That's the mark of an artist that understands her material and, with intention, delivers it for maximum effect.
All roads lead to the final song, "Live Wire," which musically is the most naked of the record's tracks, its clean electric guitar exposed and Williams' voice in near-unreverbered splendor. It stands out for these reasons and demands a less escapist listen: a listen engaged with the lyrical content, transparent in its vulnerability.
In a year in review that saw the mass production of nearly everything, it is refreshing to listen to music that genuinely has a soul to squeeze. Each number enables the listener to partake in all that comes from it for their own reflection or the reflection of the artist and her personal experiences. That's the clarity of emotion of Planet EP, a sharp one that isn't afraid to be bare no matter the outcome: it is a highlight in a fog of memories that, with its honesty, allows us to turn our eyes to the road ahead with a smile on our face.