Lori Triplett - When The Morning Comes
Self-released
*****
Lori Triplett is too good to be mortal. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was one of the musical goddesses, like a Linda, Emmylou, Nanci or Rosanne, that only come along once in a while. A truly remarkable record, Lori’s third album surges with sadness and hope in equal measure. If you’re looking for an album that processes our universal loneliness, isolation, and desperation, just reach out your and for WHEN THE MORNING COMES. But this set of ten self-penned songs is far from hopeless, as Lori bravely offers reminders of light at the end of the tunnel. Reflective, atmospheric, grounded by her gorgeous voice and the supreme detail in her lyrics about the everyday; simple images rendered quite beautifully. Wrapping her arms around the natural world and its healing effects in these songs, the way a breeze from a certain angle can change your mind or the colour of the sky can show you something about yourself you’ve never seen. Her lyrics have the feverish quality of someone putting their entire heart into vivid memories of heartbreak, disillusionment and loss intertwined with trauma—her own and that of her beloved mother’s breast cancer battle. Though the lyrics are profoundly specific, immersing us in Lori’s history, they still allow listeners to see themselves in them. The album overflows with ethereal harmonies and enrapturing music that wraps around affecting and moving lyrics and mesmerising stories of hopelessness and hopefulness, loss and love, and deeply felt affection.
There is an expectation of earnestness, a sense that a richly nuanced lyric about the frailty of the human condition is what makes a good song. Lori Triplett proves this time and time again, especially with the exquisite Mexico. The song’s unflinching lyrics paint a picture of a life that’s unraveled following a break-up. Tinkling piano notes and flowing guitar strums create haunting airs mimicking the feelings of immobility arising from the inability to move on as Lori’s voice is an instrument of tender fragility. In the same brokenhearted vein is Things You Said To Me, about the tragic imbalance of a former partner who takes advantage of her goodwill … but this time she’s ready to move on, as she offers: ‘there are times when letting go hurts less than holding on.’ Softly played piano sets the tone for All I’m Letting Go, which poses the question, where does all the hurt, despair and anxiety go on the days that you feel uplifted.
With Light From Another Room she sets aside her usual personal and, at times, autobiographical insights, in favor of outward observations on our collective state of mind as she offers encouraging words of compassion and hope for whether you’re having a rough day or celebrating small wins. Wishing Star nestles into the corners of beauty, articulating images and ideas just out of view. Sanctuary is a gorgeously tuneful and thought-provoking gem that taps into a heartwarming sense of being. Hollow White Oak is an intimate folk slow burn, Lori’s dusky, lilting alto a perfect aesthetic fit. Music this special deserves the greatest attention and deepest respect. Ultimately, this is an album that invites everybody in, one that embraces the need for tranquility and hope in the face of heartache and loss, while rallying listeners with a sense of positivity through resilience and love.
February 2024