Summary

Julien Baker's latest album "Little Oblivions" is a raw exploration of substance abuse, self-hate, and redemption, marking a departure from her previous work with the inclusion of a full band and a more expansive sound.

Abstract

"Little Oblivions" is Julien Baker's third studio album, which delves into themes of addiction, self-destruction, and the quest for forgiveness and redemption. The album represents a significant evolution in Baker's sound, incorporating a full band and a variety of instruments, while still maintaining the emotional intensity and lyrical depth that her fans have come to expect. Baker's personal struggles with sobriety and her experiences with addiction are candidly reflected in the lyrics, resonating with listeners who have faced similar challenges. The album's sonic landscape is rich and layered, yet it carefully ensures that Baker's poignant vocals and songwriting remain at the forefront. Despite a somewhat subdued closing track, "Little Oblivions" is celebrated for its powerful storytelling and its ability to connect with listeners on a profound emotional level.

Opinions

The reviewer finds the album's themes of addiction and self-hate particularly resonant, especially in the context of their own journey with sobriety.
Baker's use of a full band and more diverse instrumentation is seen as a positive progression, enhancing the emotional impact of the songs.
The reviewer feels a personal connection to the song "Song in E," appreciating its lo-fi piano and the candidness of its lyrics.
The album's religious imagery and references to god are noted, though the reviewer feels the final track, "Ziptie," lacks the same emotional punch as the closing song of Baker's previous album, "Turn Out the Lights."
The reviewer draws a parallel between "Little Oblivions" and Phoebe Bridgers' "Punisher," noting the sonic expansion in both albums and their mutual friendship and collaboration.
Despite the lack of a powerful resolution, the reviewer highly praises the album, considering it a masterpiece that has been instrumental in their own recovery process.

“It’s the Mercy I Can’t Take” — A Review of Julien Baker’s LITTLE OBLIVIONS

Julien Baker has taken me to church.

A few months ago “Faith Healer” dropped as a single and I was beyond excited for the upcoming release of her new album. A thumping and new sounding Baker song that had a drum track in it — I was surprised. Arriving in time for my jump into sobriety, “Faith Healer” looked to examine addiction. I thought this was a one-off, thematically, until “Hardline” came out a month later and it was apparent that Julien had relapsed and was struggling to come up for air again.

Baker, for as long as I had been listening to her, has been a sober figure in the alternative world. Not only that but she also spoke a lot about her queerness and her faith. Baker has presented these ideas in her previous 2 albums but “Little Oblivions” looked to dive deeper into a darkness that I also bathed in for some years.

I discovered Baker several years ago around the time “Turn Out the Lights” came out — her sophomore album. I was immediately attracted to Baker’s voice and her control over it. Her songs were sparse instrumentally but she sang the hell out of each track with vulnerable and emotional lyrics. These weren’t songs you played to groove to — these were made for you to sit in your feelings with.

“Little Oblivions” is more of the emotional firepower I have come to expect but with the inclusion of a full band, these new tracks have more movement in them.

The opening track “Hardline” blares with an synth-organ tone that feels like it’s setting you up for a sermon. Lyrically, the song captures what the whole album is about:

“Until then I’ll split the difference Between medicine and poison Take what I can get away with While it burns right through my stomach I’m telling my own fortune Something I cannot escape I can see where this is going But I can’t find the brake.”

Substance abuse, self-hate, and well, a bad relationship. The light at the end of the tunnel is forgiveness and redemption.

Over the course of the album, the search for meaning through emotional self-mutilation is apparent. In “Faith Healer,” Baker talks about how the drugs/alcohol kept the world dull and the first person who would make her feel anything, she would believe as her savior.

“Highlight Reel” sees Baker looking for help during a panic attack as she’s caught re-watching her mistakes via a mental highlight reel.

“Song in E” is one of my favorites because my heart feels so connected to Julien here. A slow, lo-fi piano plays chords reminding me of Julien’s previous 2 albums. A most direct and personal song about throwing yourself down the alcohol-well. I also love the line of “I wish I drank because of you and not only because of me.” For so long, I blamed everyone for my substance issues and never myself. It’s just easier to point fingers. The final line of “It’s the mercy I can’t take” is a beautifully touching moment. So many times in my life when I was treated with kindness by people after years of being so unkind to myself I couldn’t handle it. There is the mercy of god that I have felt but that’s another article entirely.

Lyrically, it’s perfect but I didn’t expect anything less from Julien. Instrumentally? This was such a departure from her other albums but it was the next step for her.

Previously, it was Julien with a guitar and loop pedal singing her heart out. She also played the piano (see “Hurt Less” and “Claws in Your Back” on “Turn Out the Lights”) but rarely did her albums sound “big” or “sonic.” Julien brought in a full band and blew up her sound in such a good way — with drums, more synth, bass, I think I heard a banjo at one point, and of course, the steady piano. It’s big and sonic now, y’all.

The only constant is Julien’s voice, though. There is never a moment where one instrument dominates — they all fade in and out taking turns. The guitar might get loud only to be replaced by piano and there is this weaving of the instruments that mold around Julien’s voice. I think this was a purposeful choice to keep the impact of Julien’s lyrics/singing— which is what always drove her music and attracted her audience.

In many ways, “Little Oblivions” reminded me of her friend’s and boygenius bandmate’s album, “Punisher.” Phoebe Bridgers’ sound expanded too from her previous work and all I’m saying is that I’m happy they are friends and make great music together. Bridgers also appears on the album on “Favor.”

If I had to make one criticism, is that the “Little Oblivions” ends on a quiet note and I was expecting more resolve. I do enjoy the religious imagery and the calling out to god but that punch wasn’t there. “Turn Out the Lights’ ended with “Claws in Your Back” which to this day gives me chills and takes my breath away as she hits those high notes. I didn’t have that same feeling leaving this album but it doesn’t make “Ziptie” a bad song either, it’s just the last one so it’s my target.

It’s not even been a week and I’ve listened to this masterpiece from front to back at least 30 times. I love it. The vibe of “Little Oblivions” is where I was at not so long ago and seeing it through someone else’s eyes, creatively, has been helpful for my recovery. Because people like us are drawn to the darkness and we need to keep having reminders as to why we can’t go back there.

I’ve sat with my feelings of each song felt incredibly sad but also unburdened. I felt seen and heard from someone I never met (but hope to one day).

My personal song highlights: Song in E, Highlight Reel, Faith Healer, and Ringside.