Almanac

What’s most compelling about this listening experience are the webs of melancholy spun by Hamilton’s haunting voice, especially striking when paired with sunny reverb and acoustic hooks.

As with most albums that so heavily focus on mood, Almanac is not quite so immediately rewarding, requiring multiple listens to align yourself with its rhythm.

Almanac proves that Widowspeak can embrace more traditional sounds without feeling stuffy, as well as make music that's much more eclectic than might have been expected.

Widowspeak’s greatest accomplishment is maintaining that same sense of simmering, uncertain wonder over the course of one appealingly blurry album.

All in all, seemingly indebted to many, this is a band equipped with new-found confidence, poise and an incredibly impressive sophomore effort.

Molly Hamilton’s voice could break your heart into smithereens and Robert Earl Thomas’ dextrous guitars explore texture and density bravely. 

It's the sound of a band that is following it's own natural pattern and reading it very well.

If you’re willing to spend some time in Widowspeak’s headspace, chances are you’ll find yourself wanting to roam Almanac’s enchantingly surreal landscapes a little longer each time you visit.

The sound of a home recording project cohering into a band and darn good one at that.

Widowspeak is moving forward in its evolution as a band with promising conviction, but at this point they're exploring a lot of different paths. Without a singular narrative to tie it all together besides Hamilton's lovely but noncommital exhalations, it's a little too easy to lose interest.

Almanac proves to be a step forward for a band still early into its career.

The band’s neurotically smoldering dream pop plays it cute and creepy – mashing up the doom-whispering Ambien-elegance of Mazzy Star, Fleetwood Mac at their witchiest, Cat Power at her clawiest, murder-tinged country ballads and steamy psychedelic vertigo.

Where most bands who take a ramble about nature come off feeling terribly twee, ‘Almanac’ recognises the essential grittiness of nature.

In ramping up their scope – a laudable and understandable idea really for a second LP – Widowspeak instead often lose sight of their strengths, too often not seeing the wood for the trees.