It’s not that Julien Baker’s Little Oblivions will make you cry, it’s that the record — lush with orchestration that pulses like a heartbeat — was released, serendipitously, in a year when most of us were already shedding tears on a daily basis. We have, collectively, experienced an immense amount of loss over the past 19 months, reflected in higher rates of depression, anxiety and addiction. These are the same isolating struggles Baker explores on Little Oblivions. On “Ringside” she asks: “Is there anybody coming back for me? / If they ever were, they are not now.” On “Faith Healer” she wrestles with sobriety, singing, “Oh, I miss the high / How it dulled the terror and the beauty / And now I see everything in startling intensity.” To hear words that echo our own inner thoughts and demons — and ultimately discover we’re not alone in our loneliness — is the kind of cathartic art that saves lives. Play it loud. Cry it out. We’re going to be OK.
