On rare occasion, a piece of music seeps from the speakers as if a smoky wisp and somehow swells in grace, beauty and even fragility the longer it circulates through the room. Such is the case with Lillian Leadbetter’s debut album, State of Romance. It’s a remarkably evocative set that grows stronger with each new listen. At its core, it’s a simple singer-songwriter album that integrates folk, light country and even ambient elements into a hypnotic mix. There are strings, plaintive horns and carafes of wordless backing vocals—and, yes, I mean “carafe.” They pour out. But it’s more, much more, than just that.
As the title indicates, the songs explore matters of the heart, be it full or broken. “Not in the Mood for Heartbreak” opens the eight-track set in an acoustic setting: “Not again/I see it happening/growing cold/when did loving me get old?” As the song develops, however, the soundstage expands to include backing vocals and band, including pedal steel. It’s the caress of an aching soul, in a sense. “American Sweetheart” continues the mood, with Leadbetter—who’s also a professional photographer—capturing details in her lyrics that others might miss: “When you’re nervous you still drum your fingertips….”
“Sophia,” written for a friend (whom she dubs her muse) grooving to the Louvre in Paris, is another stunning track. Accented by Connor Young on trumpet and flugelhorn, it expands the definition of romance to include deep friendships: “Oh, Sophia, home misses you” she sings at its end. It’s appropriate, then, that the title track is actually a voice message left by said friend that reflects on Leadbetter’s relationships, romance and romantic wonder, and Sophia’s pre-nostalgia and sadness at having to leave the City of Lights.
“Leo Moon” is another track with poetic lyrics and luscious backing vocals: “Morning breaks and the tide is high/I’ve got you on my mind/I dream in lifetimes….” It’s the kind of song that conjures not just a scene but the metaphysics that imbue it. “Doesn’t Hurt,” on the other hand, is little more than a plea-slash-mantra repeated in the hope of denying that obvious: Love hurts when it ends. The atmospheric “In Dreams,” which follows, is one part soliloquy and one part song, and asks a simple question: “Do you still dream of me the way I dream of you?” The album concludes with “Silver Lining,” in which she faces the prospect of heartbreak yet again: “I got the melody and you got the minor key/I break when something has changed/What will remain?/Can we still stay the same?”
This morning, I played the album for Diane while we were headed into town on an errand. Like me, she was enamored with Leadbetter’s vocals and the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of her songs, of the way she creates sonic landscapes to color her poetic spins on love and friendship. “I can’t think of anyone she sounds like,” Diane said. To an extent, I agree. There are moments that remind me of Lucy Rose and even Cassandra Jenkins (more the former than the latter), but that’s all they are—moments. Most of all, I hear Leadbetter’s heart and soul, and the wings she keeps hidden in plain sight. On first listen, as Diane experienced it this morning, State of Romance is a gem. Now on my umpteenth spin, I can easily say it’s also one of the year’s best releases.
It’s slated for release on October 13th. Don’t miss it.
The Old Grey Cat 
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