Brandi Carlile's 'In These Silent Days' comes right on time
By Maura Cowan
Veteran folk-rock artist Brandi Carlile will never claim to have reinvented the wheel over her 16 year career. But her seventh LP, In These Silent Days, proves that she has forged something beautiful, raw, and entirely her own.
Silent Days appears mechanically fine-tuned to be the quintessential Carlile record. With long-time twin bandmates Tim and Phil Hanseroth, she has streamlined her style and structure to such a degree that this release feels instantly familiar. And the sound, of course, remains classically Carlile— a carefully woven balance of folk, rock, and blues tinged with her signature throaty intonation.
The first track, “Right On Time,” is the type of musically intense, thematic lead single that has become a particular trademark of her records. “It’s not too late/ Either way, I lose you in these silent days,” she cries out, half-comforting, half-pleading. “It wasn’t right/ But it was right on time.” The struggle to connect, the feelings of regret and resolution and just a little bit of emptiness— it all rings true to the experience of the pandemic and serves perfectly to introduce her newest collection.
It’s difficult to look at this latest installment into Carlile’s oeuvre without acknowledging its triumphant predecessor, By the Way, I Forgive You. With politically-charged releases such as “The Joke” and “Hold Out Your Hand,” Carlile ventured into the realm of protest for the first time. Written and released in 2018, at the height of the Trump administration, it felt like a necessary statement from one of folk-rock’s most established voices. Three years on, Silent Days offers a natural evolution.
But if By the Way was a scream cutting through the noise of a crumbling world, In These Silent Days is a call into the rubble left behind. It is a quieter, more reflective body of work, serving less to motivate listeners into action and instead to inspire healing and resilience after the political and societal turbulence of the last half-decade. The album’s highlights reflect this sense of tenderness, with gentle but powerful life lessons woven into stories.
The intense, guitar-driven standout “Broken Horses” shares its title with Carlile’s 2021 memoir, and speaks to her impoverished upbringing on the outskirts of Seattle with some of her most impactful lyrics to date. “I wear my father's leather on the inside of my skin,” she calls, “I'm a tried and weathered woman, but I won't be tried again.”
“You and Me On The Rock,” a jangly, upbeat love letter, shows the beauty in simplicity— the little life she has created with her wife and children in their corner of rural Washington. “Mama Werewolf” and “Stay Gentle,'' meanwhile, are tender messages to those children themselves, delivering life lessons of kindness and self-awareness through metaphor.
In a signature nod to the political, “Sinners, Saints, and Fools” is a snappy, high-energy musical parable about an upright Christian man who uses the scripture to defend bigotry and hostility, spending his life touting anti-immigrant sentiment. At the end of his life, he is barred from Heaven when God returns the same defense: “They said, ‘We cannot let just anyone walk in here anymore/ You didn't do it by the book,’ and then they pointed to the floor.”
Carlile may always find new ground to tread, but reflection and familiarity are imbued in every line of In These Silent Days. During the album’s fifth track, “Letter to the Past,” she delivers a gentle message to her younger self. “Folks are gonna lean on you/ And leave when thе cracks appear,” she assures, “But, darlin’, I’ll be herе/ I'll be the last/ You’re my letter to the past.” In an age seemingly defined by uncertainty and instability, she reminds us all that we have strength and consistency within ourselves.