She writes expertly about wanting what she can’t have, wishing for things to be different, being afraid of the end even before the beginning. Her lyrics are full of longing and grief, a mode for which her oaky, supple voice is well-suited.
On Loose Future, Andrews sheds the fear and regret characteristic of her earlier work. She writes about imperfect relationships, perhaps even the same ones that populated Old Flowers (2020) and earlier albums, with admirable honesty; it seems that her perspective has changed more than her circumstances. Loose Future is full of hopeful moments amongst the admissions of pain, masterfully woven through inventive instrumentation that eschews genre. Her voice is arresting as ever; that characteristic ache, the tinge of sadness, is still present in her acceptance of ambiguity. Andrews has long been hailed as a “confessional” songwriter, but now she is confessing to faith, rather than doubt.
Loose Future embraces uncertainty and jumps headfirst into big emotions, but with acute self-awareness: “People like me think feelings are facts / Falling in love gives us a heart attack.” Andrews and her co-producer Sam Evian (Big Thief, Cassandra Jenkins, Anna Burch) reflected this complicated lyrical material in the broad range of sonic styles present on the album, recorded in the Catskill Mountains. That lush wildness is present in the record where it sounds its best–the woody, rugged, unfettered moments when Andrews is admitting to her vulnerabilities.
