Newfound serenity is explored through immersive soundscapes.
After “Dark River” (2021) and “Florida Girl” (2023), Nashville singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Lydia Luce returns with her third full-length release, “Mammoth”, a delicate yet poignant reflection on struggle, recovery, and the peace that can follow. Produced by Jordan Lehning, the album was recorded in only one week at Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios. However, in contrast with its swift recording, “Mammoth” is a paused and reflective album in which its layered textures are given ample space to breathe. Aside from the shorter studio time, it also marks a slight departure from Luce’s previous releases as a less melody-driven album of minimal percussion, in which natural sounds coalesce with delicate instrumental layers.
The title refers to Mammoth, California, where Luce took a trip up to Mount Ritter some ten years ago, at a very different stage in her life when “drinking and getting high, the days could be a blur”. Later in life, she suffered some health issues, which meant she couldn’t play any instruments, a terrible problem as an artist and session violinist. In the album, an analogy is established between the process of recovery and that of climbing a mountain.
“Mammoth” begins with the somewhat abrupt start of its title track, in which you experience the ascension and momentous arrival at the mounting top through an almost cinematic structure. As you listen, you can vividly picture the slow climb, before finally gazing upon the sweeping landscape below. The first few tracks offer variations on the same motif — difficulties that must be overcome — which can feel slightly repetitive, but soon the album expands its scope to explore other related themes. ‘Ephemeral’ (featuring Luke Sital-Singh) tackles the subjects of awareness, trust, and care for your body, while ‘Florence’ is a lullaby that Luce wrote for her unborn child. Further along the tracklist, you reach ‘Quiet’, a beautiful hymn, somewhere between Leonard Cohen and Aimee Mann, in which you encounter a serene attitude towards life, an antidote for restlessness and the sometimes-overwhelming rhythms many people face.
Most of the album’s ideas are clearly driven by a unified perspective. Certain considerations only seem to appear when your early feelings of immortality are shed. In “Mammoth”, there’s a definite sensation of having left the past behind and being in a better place, precisely because of a sharper appreciation of how fragile life is. With this in mind, it’s no surprise to find a need to slow things down, reconnect with nature and oneself, and appreciate the small details, like the gusts of wind and birdsong woven into the songs. Luce’s voice, though beautiful in its effortless control, is only one of many elements to enjoy while listening to the album. Like a soft river current, it takes you along a winding course while blending perfectly into its surroundings.


Saw Lydia live just after the release of “Azalea” when she supported Sam Outlaw. Beautiful voice.