Devin Tuel has stopped veiling her life in poetic secrets.
Sorores, the songwriter’s second album as Native Harrow, is a 17 song confessional full of longing, sadness, joy, experience, loneliness, and storytelling gold which details the emotional journey of a lifetime. The album grows beyond where 2015’s Ghost left us and continues a journey inward and emerges as the artist’s most expansive and intimate work thus far. From the percolating bowed cellos and double basses and waves of chiming, shimmery electric guitars that open the album (“Gone”) a haunted longing is introduced. This is not a nostalgia for childhood but for a human connection that may only ever have existed in our expectation rather than in our experience. Tuel begins the story in mid conversation “I am expected to run things around this place, take it all in, make it better, never show your face.”
Native Harrow is Devin Tuel. However it would be remiss to say Sorores is the work of her alone. Stephen Harms, Tuel’s musical partner and bandmate, is her equal in building and fueling the machine that is Native Harrow. From concept, to production, and live performance, together the two created a world in which Sorores could come to life floating in on a drone. To make Sorores the pair decamped to various friends’ houses up and down the East Coast and in Nashville where they would record, produce, and engineer Sorores alone.
Imbued with her dual personality of indie queen and laurel canyon lady, Sorores finds Tuel flirting and floating between genres. The acoustic sounds that once defined Native Harrow have dissolved to the background and made way for a more upbeat, electric palette. At various points throughout the album, the drone of string glissandi, howls of slide guitars, and thunder of low pitched drums rumble in the distance and circle the doors of a great hall where songs of longing, of hurt, of love, and of growth are told around the roar of a fire. Fingerpicked ballads like “Chelsea” a