Julie Byrne – The Greater Wings

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While the causes of grief are often known and quantifiable, its effects are unpredictable and unexpected. A striking feature of some of the most poignant artistic reactions to bereavement is how different they are from one another. It’s a truism to say that there is no single correct way to deal with loss; the creative arts, and music in particular, give tangible weight to this fact. Sufjan Stevens’ Carrie and Lowell, Mount Eerie’s A Crow Looked At Me and Nick Cave’s Ghosteen – all of which have been released in the last eight years and all of which deal with the loss of a loved one – are proof that grief can be relayed in a plethora of ways and with varying degrees of harshness, rawness and sometimes soft-edged tenderness. What links those three albums, despite their obvious differences, is how they hold death near to them, almost as if it is a physical object, something in any case very literal and close and in need of immediate examination. The Greater Wings, Julie Byrne’s first album since 2017’s Not Even Happiness, also examines grief, but it does so in a slightly different way.

The difference is perhaps due to circumstance: Byrne’s long-time collaborator, producer and – in her words – ‘the family I chose’, Eric Littmann, died unexpectedly during the making of the album. With many of the songs already written, the focus on grief is largely abstract: the songs, labours of love written over a period of years, suddenly – dreadfully – had change forced upon them. The result is an album full of gentle tension where Byrne’s characteristically crystalline, poetic songs with love and hope at their hearts are now presided over by a darker, sadder guiding spirit. The title track is a delicate acoustic ballad with a soaring chorus, but it is also swathed in atmospheric strings and thickened with layers of vocal effects, while Byrne’s voice is foregrounded: we hear every breath, every nuance.

The current form of these songs was evidently inspired by Byrne’s emotions over her loss, and that form has been superbly realised with the help of producer Alex Somers. Somers has previously worked with Julianna Barwick, and it shows in the great attention given to texture, to the almost tangible nature of the production. Songs like Portrait Of A Clear Day begin minimally but grow imperceptibly into lush, enveloping soundworlds. An unexpected harp bubbles up like a spring, and strings billow and build in shifting cloud formations. A suddenly clear lyric – ‘I get so nostalgic for you sometimes’ – will emerge as if to remind you of the album’s higher purpose.

Moonless begins with a waterfall of sound – Marilu Donovan’s harp – before a sombre piano pulls along the saddest, most bittersweet of break-up songs. Summer Glass makes almost ecstatic use of a blipping synth refrain and provides an interesting contrast with the slow shimmer of the instrumental Summer’s End. Lightning Comes Up From The Ground describes a physical yearning tinged, as is the case with all of these songs, with acute melancholy. Again a simple fingerpicked guitar refrain expands into a luxuriant sonic landscape. Flare is one of the album’s most conventionally folky moments, but even here, the attention to detail is evident, as is the reflective mood.

The Greater Wings works up to its most ambitious moments. Conversation Is A Flowstate is almost soulful in its delivery and enigmatic in its lyricism, touching on difficult and potentially traumatic subjects with subtlety and wisdom. The final two tracks are amongst Byrne’s most accomplished work: Hope’s Return sets oneiric strums and gossamer production against a breathy, echoey vocal. The result reaches Cocteau Twins levels of dreamy ambiguity. Closer Death Is A Diamond, the only song fully written after Littmann’s death, is a journey from pillow-soft synths through quietly exploratory piano chords to a breathtakingly beautiful, brutally sad rumination on the personal nature of loss. It represents, paradoxically, a starting point, a vindication of the impulse to create through grief rather than react to it.

Although it seems uncompassionate to describe someone’s difficult personal circumstances as artistically rewarding, Byrne has proved that music can be transformative and reinvigorating, as well as beautiful. There is hope here beneath the sadness, hope of the most life-affirming kind.

UK & IRELAND TOUR DATES 2023

23/7 – Hebden Bridge Trades Club w/ Zandra

 26/7 – London Kings Place Hall w/ Juni Habel

 28/7 – Brighton St Bartholomew’s Church w/ Juni Habel

19/8 – Green Man Festival

 16/11 – Leeds Brudenell Social Club

 17/11 – Glasgow Mono

 18/11 – Manchester St. Michael’s Church 21/11 – London EartH Theatre

 22/11 – Bristol The Jam Jar

 24/11 – Limerick Dolans Upstairs

 25/11 – Dublin Pavilion Theatre, Dún Laoghaire

 26/11 – Belfast The Black Box

Tickets available at juliemariebyrne.com