Soft-hued psychedelia shimmers throughout the latest Lydia Luce LP, Florida Girl. The sound waves lap toward and onto the shore, pushing further inland with each next chord, while the sun—aka her lush vocals—shines overhead. “Why is it never enough?” she asks in the lead-off track, which explores how some people—like the ocean during high tide—are rarely satisfied with what they have. They always want more, more, more.
“Other Side,” the second song, delves into the various questions surrounding the afterlife, whether we ascend to heaven, are reborn or simply exit stage left into the void: “Will I care about the pearls on the gate/Will I dwell on the life that I made/A whistle on the wind/Do I come back again?” (No matter one’s belief, we’ll all learn the answer when we get there.)
Those two cuts speak to a truth everyone who hears Florida Girl should be able to agree on: The songs dig into atypical subjects for modern pop albums—though this is more of a hybrid folk-rock set. Acceptance, self-acceptance, life and death, are all among the topics. There are also love-themed tunes, such as “Your Garden” and “Saline,” but they’re atypical love songs. The former unearths memories of a demanding figure from her past—“You used to knock me down with your words”—and how, now, “It really doesn’t hurt anymore/Because I am someone different than before.” The latter embraces unadulterated love: “Bring out all your demons/Give the dark some light/I’m not afraid to see them/You cannot love and hide.”
“Florida Poem” is an actual poem written by Luce that, I think, is the one moment on the album where less would have been more. Studio trickery speeds up and slows her voice, detracting and distracting from the vivid imagery of the poem, especially the knowing conclusion: “I am on my own but I am never alone.” The title track, on the other hand, is a true stunner, digging deep into what it means to return home. Those old worlds are never what they were, in large part because we are not who we were.
“Face and Figure,” follows a similar approach to “Florida Poem,” waiting until lyric’s end to reveal itself. Like “Other Side,” the closing “A Minute Too Soon” questions the unknowable, searching for answers that will never be revealed. In some respects, the album’s production conjures the Byrds circa “Goin’ Back” and The Notorious Byrd Brothers. It’s a sublime set, mesmerizing one moment and hypnotic the next.
(While the album is available as a download from Bandcamp, the LP itself can be found via Luce’s official website.)
The Old Grey Cat 