An album over a decade in the making but that time has been well-spent producing songs that are intimate and authentic.
Some albums arrive in a flurry of hype; others take years to ripen. Hayley Savage’s new album is the latter—an album steeped in a decade of lived experience, distilled into songs that feel both personal and resonant. Each of the eleven songs on this album delves into Savage’s inner world, which she renders with a real authenticity: nothing is held back, and whilst this has the potential to make the listener feel voyeuristic, it instead forges a real bond between artist and audience. Savage’s compositions have the power to grab you and speak to you immediately.
The album begins with ‘Freer’, a song that starts simply – full of brushed drums, guitar, evocative piano and double-tracked vocals – but builds to an emotive climax. The opening lines also set the mood for the album. “How do I begin/to tell you all the ways/that I feel today?” sings Savage before asking the listener to invest their trust, faith and confidence, and so paving the way for her own emotional disclosure.
There is a real sadness in some of the songs, but it’s not unbearable; the sadness has already been borne by Savage. The message of the album seems to be that life has its dark moments, but it also has light. Sometimes the emotional depth might not come with relief, but there is a sense of resilience and acceptance, which can be just as powerful. On the musically Indie-leaning song ‘Big No’, for example, Savage sings, “When I needed you to trust/In the middle of the night/You know I wasn’t there enough/For you to decide” before adding later, “Your fear, my pain/The last meal that I made/It haunts me to this day/that I don’t feel the same.” This is a poignant sentiment expressed simply and effectively. Savage’s regrets also seem to ripple inwards on her: the other person in this vignette is strangely protected. However, there is hope and positivity too. At the end of ‘No Greater Cost’ Savage repeats the line “To be loved at no greater cost”, reflecting perhaps that something has been learnt through suffering and hope can remain.
Musically, the album blends traditional folk, Americana and Indie influences to create an album of storytelling and intimacy combined with a bit of experimental flair. However, nothing is overworked and there is often an understated nature to the songs. Given that the album took over a decade to write, it is pleasing that it is not over-produced. When whisky is made it starts out as a raw spirit but then sits in a barrel to age and slowly improve. Crucially, it is not over-worked during this period, and this feels like a true metaphor for Savage’s album: it has aged like whisky, with time shaping it into something deep and complex, which reflects both the slow process of creation and the emotional layers that come through. Savage has let the emotional core of the music speak for itself, without distraction. It also gives the listener a chance to really connect with the nuances in the performance, whether it’s in the vocals or the instrumental choices. There is also a real subtlety to some of the instrumentation, especially the strings and some of the guitar work.
Savage’s album is a testament to patience, honesty, and the power of time in shaping both music and meaning. The album never forces its emotions or overworks its arrangements, instead allowing each song to settle naturally, much like the stories they tell. Through moments of sorrow, resilience, and quiet hope, Savage invites the listener into her world with an intimacy that feels both raw and reassuring. This is an album that lingers—not just in melody, but in feeling—long after the final note fades.
