photo by Taylor Christian Jones; photo courtesy of Skye Media

Album Review: Lori Triplett – When the Morning Comes

When the Morning Comes is a collection of well-written, lyrically interesting, catchy songs at the country-folk singer-songwriter end of the Americana genre. Lori Triplett‘s songwriting is compelling, and her delivery is envelopingly engaging on so many of this album’s tracks that you’ve gotta give this a listen.

While there’s a lot of introspection and profound thinking to unpack in this release, there’s also plenty of hope and whimsy. Triplett’s voice is sweet but powerful and emotionally adept at navigating such a heavy yet pleasant collection of songs.

image courtesy of Skye Media

Album opener “The Wishing Star” kicks things off with whimsy, with clever lyrics from the point of view of your favorite star light, star bright.

“The Good in Us,” next, is more of a weighty-seeming, shuffling-along song with a tone that’s consistently slightly foreboding and a delivery that keeps you a little off-balance while still being pleasant and cautiously hopeful, as voiced by the final phrase of the chorus, “We gotta find it – the good in us.” It’s songs like this, with its not-so-straightforward style and emotion, that help make Triplett such an intriguing artist, ensuring When the Morning Comes remains an interesting listen, even after it appears nearly daily on your – well, let’s say your (my) “review queue” – for weeks and months. Or your “playlist,” if you prefer.

“Sanctuary” is a darkly soaring, introspective number with a full sound bed. It’s followed by the more sparsely instrumented “All I’m Letting Go Of,” a song that asks questions you never thought to ask, with a chorus that starts with “I want to know where it goes when you let it go. Does it just take a lap and come right back around?” and leads to the payoff “I want to know where all I’m letting go of goes.” It’s a mostly slow song with a occasional advancement of the tempo occasionally, briefly, when appropriate. The delivery is sweet and pleasant with tiny instrumental flourishes adding to the lyrics’ whimsy while sustaining the song as a serious repeated listen.

photo by Taylor Christian Jones; photo courtesy of Skye Media

One of the songs I’ve been almost surprised to find pop repeatedly into my head is the smooth, vacation-flavored (a la Buffett, slightly – perhaps Buffett-adjacent) flowing number, “Mexico.” The linguist in me wishes Lori didn’t pronounce the “s” at the end of “anyway” during the line “thank you anyway, Mexico,” but that’s just the insidious language nitpicker inside of me. It doesn’t diminish my love for this soaring performance.

Lori begins the back half of the album with the somewhat foreboding instrumental opening of “Hollow White Oak,” replete with a haunting “oo-oo-oooh” lyric. As a lyricist, Lori turns some nifty phrases in this song, too, like “I’m headed out to sit beneath her, my wooden savior, secret keeper.” The sweet cadence of the phrase. I mean, this song is a rich, haunting sonic wonder, but as a writer, I keep noticing nifty couplets. Check it out for yourself.

photo by Wonder Film Co.; photo courtesy of Skye Media

“Things You Said to Me” is a breezy, steadfast song about when it’s better to let go than hold on, and though that phrase is not particularly different from a particular line in the song, mostly the lyrics coolly make that point without making it out straight. As in, it’s an interesting song lyrically, and the light strumming and come-closer, I’m-saying-something-profound, sometimes-nearly-a-whisper delivery is a perfect vehicle for the message.

One song that grew on me over many listens and is now one of my favorites in the light, cheerful, relentlessly hopeful “Light From Another Room.” Sure, times are hard, “but there’s a light on, there’s a light on somewhere… I see it cutting through the darkness of my deepest blues. There’s a light from another room.” At times, if you’re blue, that light could be this song. So put it on a playlist somewhere you can find it easily when you need it. And yes, sometimes it’s just “a soul-sucking routine” that’s responsible for the blues, but that doesn’t make it any less difficult to find the light sometime. Thanks, Lori.

“Night Rider,” the album’s penultimate track, is deep and dark, with a rich, atmospheric keybed and a vocal delivery that makes the entire song sound… well, deep and dark.

Lori closes the disc with melancholy, the sweet “Here for a Minute” that urges, gently, to live and share love because “we’re only here for a minute.” The song is an easy favorite, a pleasant listen and, depending on your mood at the time, potentially deeply moving. And, with that, the album is over.

Somehow, this album almost slipped past me, but when I had a chance to give it a good listen, I discovered When the Morning Comes really is something special. It’s soft and pleasant but complex, varied, and an easy repeated listen that soon becomes a favorite record. I’m so very glad it found its way into my consciousness.