The Toronto singer Charlotte Day Wilson has spent the last couple of years lending her considerable voice to other artists. Since her first EP, a soulful 2016 project with her initials as its title, Wilson has appeared on albums by Daniel Caesar, River Tiber, and BADBADNOTGOOD—fellow Canadians with a predilection for simmering R&B and jazz. They’ve all found different ways to drape the velvet of Wilson’s voice onto their production styles, from the comforting support role she sings on Caesar’s folk-soul track “Transform” to the tranquil siren she plays on the swanky lounge of BBNG’s “In Your Eyes.” In her own music, Wilson most often cultivates a powerful stillness. In the case of her downcast new EP, that means she flirts with stoicism to the occasional point of numbness.
Stone Woman charts the crash of a relationship, from Wilson’s nagging inward “Doubt” to the “Falling Apart” and “Funeral” that follow it later in the tracklist. She treats the opening title track like a mantra to stay grounded, but it has the early and troubling effect of fixing her in place, her voice hovering without anywhere to go. (This is ironic, given that the song’s plot involves her constant travels on the road.) Wilson’s voice is typically the strongest draw to her solo act, its power amplified by the hushed restraint of her performances. Yet that voice has often overshadowed the fact that Wilson writes and produces much of her own music. If her production on Stone Woman sometimes fails to pay her voice optimal service, it’s ample proof of a soft, smart touch behind the boards.
“Doubt” is one of the more gorgeous entries in Wilson’s small catalog, a lush pace-setter for the type of smoky R&B she does best. Synths gurgle over a crisp snare, and Wilson’s voice comes out as a deflated gasp: “Oh, what have I done for your love?/Oh, I’m selfish and dumb for your love.” “Nothing New” fidgets in the wake of that rift and trades in the live rhythm section for a programmed beat and an array of gloomy synths that build to a spacey crescendo. These were the right single choices for Stone Woman, showing off a range between tracks that’s not quite there on the rest of the EP.
On the closing track, Wilson attends a funeral before orchestrating one for her own relationship. First she’s emotionless: “I went to a funeral so I could feel something.” Then she shrugs: “Welcome to our funeral, it’s nice that you came.” The sequencing makes the EP read like an effective songwriter exercise, pushing through a trauma in chronological order, but moments like this feel oddly flat; her detached tone obscures something in the process. It’s proved an asset elsewhere, and the highs on Stone Woman are some of Wilson’s most memorable work, but that measured stillness feels like it’s starting to hold her back.
