Natalie Lu aka Wisp, transforms from mere viral social media sensation and turns in an album that luxuriates in its genre and sound. It’s replete with turbulent and emotive drones, layers of fuzz and sticks firmly to the shoegaze sound you’d expect from previous releases. Tonally it can’t help but nod to Cocteau Twins, Slowdive, Nothing, and Mazzy Star as it anchors itself within the swirling noise.
But Wisp doesn't linger in the obvious. Jumping right in with “Black Swan” feels bold, even audacious. It takes a while to attune to the vibe and settle in. By the time the metaphors and keening whispers of “Sword” come around we’re invested. The atmospheric flourish of “Breathe Onto Me”, balances sensual intimacy amid crashing chords. It's straightforward in conceit but richly layered in feeling. The album proceeds like a quest narrative, lyric and texture intertwining. Guitars rake through fog, vocals drift like ghosts, yet there's a visceral immediacy, as if every shimmer carries some type of personal reckoning.
The waltzing chords and chiming bells of “Latvia” begin brightly, cutting through the haze before breaking down into a haunting decay. Lu mixes the epic and the intimate deftly enough as she stitches together a mix of diary entries, medieval reverie, and emotional tremors into an intricate tapestry. There’s a genuine truth in her voice, as she wrestles with themes of dependency and revelation. The title track however risks tripping itself up in naive sounding lyrics and “Guide Light” seems like one amorphous song too far as it meanders aimlessly.
On “Get Back to Me”, she trades grit for quiet desperation. It’s tender and feels like remembering a love through foggy glass, occupying a liminal place between comfort and collapse. It’s the kind of careful pause that shows her range beyond sheer noise and into emotional precision. Juxtaposed with the noisier “Mesmerized” it’s the latter that wins out in terms of memorability, merging arena-sized hooks with shoegaze weight. Clean drums and gauzy guitars build into a cathartic release.
The album positions Wisp as both seer and survivor and captures a generational mood: youthful tumult, yearning for connection in isolating times. Her leap from obscurity to viral acclaim, infuses the album with both anxiety and bravado. It may be escapist or protectionist, possibly both. She’s been thrust into the spotlight as a shoegaze heroine, but seems intent on crafting emotional clarity from any potential chaos. When you’re in its orbit, If Not Winter has you believing in the beauty of being lost and for a while, after the music ends, there’s a resonance on many levels. You do have to dig at times though, to forage and find your own touchstones. Without that effort you may be left wandering around the realm she inhabits admiring the craft without feeling its warm embrace.
