Review

Snail Mail

Valentine Demos

Matador • 2023

As a late follow-up to her second album, which appeared on a plethora of year-end lists in 2021, Lindsey Jordan gives us an insight into the making of »Valentine« with this EP packed with demo versions. After a stint in rehab, Jordan holed up in her parents’ house in Maryland with just a guitar, a microphone and a minilogue synth, working on new songs all on her own. Compared to the album versions, the demos are as to be expected much more stripped down and raw, but also more intimate and vulnerable. You can even hear her crying on two tracks, as the 24-year-old laughingly explained prior to the EP’s release. Ever since Cat Power had to be comforted through her crisis on »Moon Pix« by concert-goers, the crux of the matter has been this, especially for young, female, sensitive artists: At what point does fandom and fascination become voyeurism? When does the honest, unfiltered expression of one’s own fucked-upness cease to be in the service of art and become emotional oversharing for the sake of pity and comfort? Is it really the music that convinces, or is it some kind of protective instinct that kicks in? This short EP doesn’t give any answers (of course), but those who found the sequel to her rockin’ debut »Lush« too overstuffed and pompously orchestrated will certainly find more to like on these sparse demos.