What with the near-death of a loved one, a traumatic break-up and the intense and uncertain start of a new relationship, it’s fair to say that these endings and beginnings provided high octane fuel for Courtney Marie Andrews‘ Valentine, her tenth album.
Drawing on Lee Hazlewood, Big Star’s Third and Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk as influences and expanding her instrumentation to include flute and high strung guitars, with multi-instrumentalist producer Jerry Bernhardt and percussionist Chris Bear as collaborators, the title embedded with a resonant emotional ambivalence, it documents one of the darkest periods of her life using music as a way to navigate the pain and emerge on the other side.
The feeling of being torn between emotional extremes is at the heart of the slow and surefooted opening track, Pendulum Swing (“I love a heart with one foot out the door/One that leaves you hungry, coming back for more/If I get what I want /Gotta let the pendulum swing”), with its sonorous piano notes, military drum beat and soaring vocals.
Inspired by a late night conversation with a friend, Keeper, with it’s Fleetwood Mac shades, is a vulnerable moment of self-reflection as she asks “Would you bring me home to mother?/Would you wanna cook me dinner?/Would you hold my hand in public?/Would you wanna tell your friends?/Would you talk about forever?/Would you go looking for a ring?” while asserting “I would stand up for you /I would stand up for love/I would answer every call/And get over acting tough/I would bring you home to mother/Even if she don’t approve”.
Featuring flute, strummed 12-string acoustic and Farfisa, there’s a Tom Petty-like musical vibe to Cons & Clowns with its softly sung opening assertiveness encouragement to “Don’t make yourself small baby, take up space /I always wanna hear what you have to say” and the supportive “It’s a scary world full of cons and clowns/A lot of bad people who will tear you down/Not me, no way/I only wanna hear you play” that sports the evocative line “Paint your chest to the sound of Debussy/If only you could see that magic I see”.
The second song to mention Hollywood, set against Los Angeles streets reeking of “piss and beer and good times” Magic Touch again catches the spark that love ignites when you’re feeling a void inside (“When you’re around I light up …Your love’s my drug, you’ve got me hooked/You’re written in my little green book/Without you I lose my luster, lose my color, lose my wonder”)
Coloured by jazzy flute, organ and Brian Wilson styled harmonies, Little Picture Of A Butterfly harks to the end of a relationship (“after all that time went by/All I get is a butterfly/A little picture of a butterfly/Guess that’s your funny way of saying goodbye/Soulmates, what a pretty thought/But you either do, or you do not/I used to think we were meant to be /I used to believe and make believe/Now you’re just a pretty ghost”) and a reclamation of power (“Guess I’m going out for a drink/Guess I’m smoking cigarettes /I’m driving around in a red corvette/Guess I’m single in a little black dress/Like some widow to this big old mess/Guess I’m morally impure/Guess your love is not a cure /Guess I should’ve known better/Guess I’m throwing out that sweater”) building from its swirlingly cosmic opening to a soaring Orbisonesque balladeering climax.
Tremulously sung, Outsider continues on a strong note of self-assertiveness (“You can ask me questions/Like where have I been/Doesn’t mean I have to answer/Open up or let you in”) seeking refuge in stepping away and isolation (“I wanna be an outsider/It’s too painful looking in…I’ve been burned before/You let them get close/Then they expose your core/You give them your heart/As they’re asking for more/You give them your world/Then they show you the door”), but with the barbed final line “How could I be an insider /When I don’t fit in?”.
With its mid-tempo slow march, drone and tremolo guitars, Andrews lets rip with a fiery solo on Everyone Wants To Feel Like You Do, a swipe at the sort of man who, disconnected from those around them, thinks they can do whatever they want without any consequences or conscience (“You’re not sorry for the music/You’re not sorry for what’s felt/You’re not sorry for space you take/You’re not sorry for yourself/You’re not sorry for existing/For showing up late/For bumping into someone like me that you hate”).
The circling radio-friendly watery rippling melody of Only The Best For Baby has hints of country and Joni Mitchell while the lyrics plumb humiliation and self-abasement in seeking affection (“I will settle for your crumbs/The child in me needs your love”) as she declares “I’m a masochist/I’m a marionette/I’m a mess making moves on you” opening herself naked looking for something in return (“I am falling too fast for you/I am showing my cards/ Wondering if I’m a fool”). It’s a hunger for a mutual connection that also growls in the acoustic guitar stomach of the tearjerking Best Friend (“Wish I had a best friend/Someone to talk to/To tell my deepest thoughts to…conversations only we understand…someone to hold me accountable/To bust all my myths/Someone free/A freak like me”) looking to share “bad jokes that only we get”.
There are times when we want to hide from the truth to avoid the pain it might bring, but there are others when it’s the only recourse to quell the need and find either assurance or rejection, and that, sung with a nakedly exposed quivering double-tracked vocals, underpins the album’s closing drone and fuzz imbued number, Hangman, which, using the word-guessing countdown game as its motif (“Don’t wanna live playing hangman/Always asking for vowels/On the edge of death/Without the truth spelled out”) has her demanding “tell me now, tell me now, tell me now” as it ends with the final confessional “I have loved you from the beginning”.
There’s always been an element of darkness, of self-worth questioning, in her albums, but this really puts it to the fore as she seeks validation and acceptance while still holding on to who and what she is. Valentine is Courtney Marie Andrews’ most vulnerable and sonically adventurous work to date.
Valentine (January 16th, 2026) Loose Future/Thirty Tigers
Bandcamp: https://courtneymarieandrews.bandcamp.com/album/valentine