First Impressions: A Time to Grow by the Henry Girls

If time is an ocean, its tide is tied not to the gravitational pull of the moon but the magnetism of memory. The proverbial waters rise and recede on a schedule of their own making, with storm surges lingering longer than the few hours that’s the norm. Over the holidays, in other words, I found myself bobbing along to remembrances of departed loved ones, old friends and even college professors. Van Morrison’s 1980s-era oeuvre provided the soundtrack during the revelries of reminiscing, as it often does, especially his Inarticulate Speech of the Heart.

Interspersed amidst the old favorites: the latest Henry Girls album, A Time to Grow, which was produced by Tommy McLaughlin at Attica Audio in County Donegal. Sisters Karen, Lorna and Joleen McLaughlin—who named their group after their grandfather—have crafted a heartfelt collection that encompasses traditional Irish folk, soulful confessions and even old-school pop, with the songs accented by their DNA-enriched harmonies. (I’d call them the Irish Staves but they predate the sisters Staveley-Taylor by almost a decade.)

One highlight is the title track, which leads off the set. It could well be a child’s lament, but the truth is—if we live life as we should—we grow and learn every day regardless of age: “Let me sit with this, let me take it in/Let me understand it from deep within.” And, too, there’s more at play than “growing tall.” It speaks to the cycle of life, of winter giving way to spring and then summer, with the cycle repeating again and again and again.

“Breathe” explores how “sometimes we need darkness so that we can see the light” and celebrates the healing that comes from human connection. (“Hope has new meaning, now she understands/The power of healing by holding someone’s hand/Hope in the flowers as the sun begins to shine/It flows in the rivers, and it leaves the past behind.”) “Leaving Dublin” tells the story of someone leaving her immediate past behind by heading to the place she feels most herself; it’s a mournful meditation. The instrumentals “Clouds”—essentially an interstitial—and “Honeybee/Hard Border” add color to the proceedings. “Where Are We Now” is another high point, conjuring Mazzy Star while questioning the status of a relationship. A collaboration with the acclaimed Ríoghnach Connolly, the stirring “Not Your Fight,” follows; it delves into how the world’s many conflicts impact everyone, not just the combatants.

The stirring instrumental “Inghinidhe na hÉireann” can be heard as an echo from the collective unconscious, weaving in traditional elements while evolving from piano to violin. As with “Honeybee/Hard Border,” it clocks in at over five minutes yet seems half that. “Colours in the Sky” is a welcome respite, a straightforward ode to a country walk with a loved one, with the troubles of the water wafting away on the breeze. “Ag Taisteal,” which follows, is another interstitial, less a tune and more a mood. “Winter’s Day” celebrates new life while offering advice that’s applicable to everyone: “There will be mountains you will have to climb/There may be shadows, but you will always find the light/And in an ocean of feelings, in the rhythm of the sea/Always remember, be true and be free.” The album closes with “Don’t Fear the Night,” which conjures the vocal stylings of the 1940s and ‘50s.

If, as I said up top, time is a proverbial ocean, I can’t think of a better way to drift through its currents than with A Time to Grow. The lyrics speak to the human condition past and present, while the melodies linger. Above all, there are those harmonies, which wash through the soul. It’s a wonderful album.