Roses, the seventh studio album by New York duo Widowspeak, is – how could it be otherwise, given the title – about love. But it does not reach for grand, sultry romantic gestures; instead, it tells supposedly banal stories straight from everyday life. On »Wondering«, for instance, Molly Hamilton sings of everyday thoughts during her day job as a waitress in a New York diner – sweet as ever, and expertly Mazzy Star-like.
Roses gathers these everyday observations into a larger whole and reminds us, however kitschy this may now sound, of the beauty of transience and love. The album is gentle, gentler still than its predecessors, and works smoothly in every respect – which may perhaps also have something to do with the fact that Molly Hamilton and Robert Earl Thomas are a couple not only professionally, but privately too.
With Roses, Widowspeak remain true to their line and deliver dream pop with indie and folk elements. The album has no need of grand gestures – what works more than ever is the interplay between Hamilton’s voice and Thomas’s smooth guitar riffs.
