Julien Baker has found the rare perfect balance between sticking to your guns and undergoing a total reinvention on Little Oblivions, her new self-produced full-length for Matador Records. Just an observation, but it’s beginning to seem like Baker, who gained mass recognition and acclaim in the mid-2010s with a pair of records (the excellent Sprained Ankle in 2015 and its equally wonderful follow-up, 2017’s Turn Out the Lights) is getting tired of being defined strictly by the fragile-yet-mysteriously-uplifting songs for guitar and voice that occupied those albums. This impression is scattered throughout Little Oblivions, which retains the emotional intimacy and honest lyrical nature of Baker’s past works, but also features more diversity in how the songs are structured, the instrumentation (drums!) and the production techniques used to capture them. Plain and simple: It’s a fantastic record, and one that she was destined to make.
The first noticeable difference here is that Baker doesn’t sound quite so alone anymore. Her past records were filled with these climactic moments that could leave the listener wondering to themselves: “Why doesn’t she have a band?” – almost to the point where one could cynically assume that her choice to exclude one was simply to fuck with her listeners. But on Little Oblivions, we’re getting the fullest realization of her sound yet. Take the album opener, “Hardline,” where drums crash through a swell of noisy guitars and synth strings. There’s about three seconds of lonely guitar right at the end – somewhat of a gentle reminder of what once was. The next song, the absolutely brilliant “Heatwave,” features a warbly synth lead and a classic indie jangle groove that somehow manages to come off more pop-punk than anything, even with banjos peeking in and out of the mix. For some songwriters, the goal is to leave the listener so completely stunned by what they’re hearing that they want more, and as the listener in this situation, this song does exactly that for me. (Seriously, when this song ends, I actually, truly, cannot believe it’s over.)
Instrumentally, “Favor” sounds like it could have been conceived by Ben Gibbard and Chris Walla circa 2005. It’s a standout track aided by some pristine and fitting vocal contributions from Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus, Baker’s band members in boygenius. There’s also “Repeat,” which features oscillating guitars that surround Baker as she sings about strip malls and reoccurring dreams. But right as the song reaches its climax, Baker’s voice is fed through electronics, mimicking the guitars as they oscillate: “repeats, repeats, repeats…”. The end result is mystifying and ultimately unforgettable.
Perhaps the most somber moment on the record appears in the form of its final track, the heavily faith-inspired “Ziptie.” “I was disappointed to find out how much everybody looks like me,” she sings raspilly and utterly defeated. “Oh good God / When you gonna call it off? / Climb down off of the Cross and change your mind?” Christianity has seemingly always played a role in Baker’s songwriting, but it’s here in this moment of complete desperation where she puts it on full display.
Being able to draw your own conclusions is just as crucial to the listening experience Baker has created on Little Oblivions. Whether it was intentional or not, Little Oblivions is set to come out two weeks before the one year anniversary of COVID-19 being declared a national emergency and lockdowns/quarantining beginning to go into effect in the United States. Frankly, this album could potentially be the best (or worst) thing to listen to as you reflect on whatever the fuck you’ve done, experienced, or witnessed in the last 12 months. Part of me is willing to believe that Baker is aware of this, and so I’m also partially inclined to think that this is actually the perfect record for this moment. “It’s just another way to kill an hour / Wishing I were different,” Baker sings on “Ringside.” It’s an entirely relatable sentiment coming from somebody who, much like the rest of the world, just wants to get back to some normalcy.
