It takes a lot to still a brain these ever-busier days, but Oregon-based singer-songwriter Katherine Paul is mistress of the arresting atmosphere. Lusher and richer than 2018’s Mother of My Children, this second album, on which she plays every instrument, billows like mountain mists. The songs focus on an intimate inner circle: friends on Going to the Beach with Haley, with its mellow drum machine and soft arpeggios; her mother on You’re Me and I’m You. Lovers become everyday idols of her quiet wonder in Real Lovin, in which ragged strums and swelling organ build to euphoric release, and in the lovestruck murmurs of Half Colored Hair.
Paul’s soft voice, washed by reverb, recalls the dreamscapes of Beach House, and there are reminders of Sharon Van Etten in the enveloping swells of drums, grungy guitars and spacey shifts of rhythm. But Paul comes at US indie rock from a different angle; raised on Washington’s Swinomish reservation, she uses gigs, fanzines and festivals to spread the history of native peoples (her debut was written as family protested at Standing Rock). The uniqueness of her voice, though, stems not just from her origins, but her uncanny ability to capture the heart.
