If Dua Saleh’s 2024 LP, I SHOULD CALL THEM, followed two lovers through a post-apocalyptic landscape, then their new album reflects on what it’s like to really live there. Responding to conflict, climate crisis, and AI-induced tech anxiety, Of Earth & Wires weaves through folk, rock, and electronic influences—plus a trio of Bon Iver features—on its way to uneasy resolution. Working with several producers from their home in the Midwest while evoking the Afrofuturist themes that have followed them throughout their career, Saleh opens the door to community as they piece themselves back together in a crumbling world.
On opener “5 Days,” Saleh’s voice is clear and emotional over lonely guitar riffs as they ask for just a few more days and hours with their partner so they won’t wander the world alone. A little past the halfway point, a heavy drumbeat crashes in and their voice distorts into screams and screeches, transforming the song from folk lament to dissonant protest. Justin Vernon sings on three songs, “Flood,” “Keep Away,” and “Glow,” and his voice pairs well with Saleh’s falsetto while transporting him into Saleh’s world. “Flood” considers perceived technological advancement and the risk of dystopia and destruction, with imagery inspired by the climate threat that Saleh witnessed firsthand while filming their role on Sex Education in Wales. “Oh, but this grief inside of me is growling/At the Earth,” they sing.
From their perspective as a Sudanese American from Minnesota, Saleh is well aware of the importance of solidarity and the way the continent of Africa and Black communities all over the world have been disenfranchised in the name of profit. The terrifying precarity of the present has been fertile creative ground. “I think we got like six songs within the span of three hours,” they said in a statement accompanying the album. “The war in Sudan was taking place, AI was emerging, and it just felt like the world might be ending.” The glowing swell of “Firestorm,” which features backing vocals from the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles, is beautiful—but the song was also inspired by the city’s devastating 2025 wildfires.
Of Earth & Wires’ emotional journey takes shape through these intentional collaborations and musical references. “I Do, I Do” nods to Saleh’s roots with Malek Vossough’s oud playing and lyrics that reference a Sudanese proverb: “He who mixes poison is bound to lick his fingers.” In “Cállate,” Saleh’s half-rapped, half-sung vocals collide with drum’n’bass-inflected percussion fills that hit like an ambush, evoking the conflicted anger and regret of wishing someone would reach out, even if you’ve already called it quits. The playful Afrobeats rhythms of “Speed Up” could perhaps be done by another artist, but the song’s scramble of squeaky electronics is reminiscent of the experimentalism of the 2010s Eau Claire scene. There are few ready answers to problems Saleh confronts on Of Earth & Wires, but as the album comes to a close, they leave us with a clear message: “ALL IS LOVE.” Over whistles and rock drums, Saleh makes a plea for connection and meets with a poem from fellow multidisciplinary artist Aja Monet. Love is “open-ended,” Monet reminds us, “like the mouth of an ellipsis.” Dire as it may be, the story’s not over yet.
