Lubelski returns with an album I can only clumsily give a hackneyed response: it’s a personal record. But again, most of her albums have a richness and openness that makes them personal. But her past work was an inward lamp; an artist trying to illuminate a thought or feeling inside herself. The Gilded Raid is true plunder, with Lubelski giving all of herself to fans and the listening public. Whatever times its taken to find herself hidden within the muse and maestro, it’s been well worth it. The Gilded Raid seems to mirror on-and-off collaborator Thurston Moore’s Demolished Thoughts. This does not suffer the Beck sheen, which makes it more haunting around its rougher edges. With Lubelski, those are but fancy frays, not unfinished hems. Lubelski runs her fingers across the aging seam, enjoying the feel of wear and tear made from years of trudging back and forth within her own thoughts. The treks have been worth it, because The Gilded Raid hasn’t left the proximity of the turntable in quite sometime since it hit the doorstep. The B-side is truly magnificent, as the album builds upon itself on the A-side with fragile melodies that almost can’t stand under the weight of Lubelski’s reverie. But the album finds its legs by the B-side, flirting with sea shanty happiness and the after-glo of a life lived well; now fully realized and recognized as such. The Gilded Raid is a roughshod celebration, and though Lubelski’s candor is disguised in typical singer/songwriter costumes, it’s still easy to uncover and feel. And ultimately, that’s the goal of the album. Lubelski is truly feeling like a well anchored musician happy in her own ideas, which is why The Gilded Raid is well worth the walls burning and the buildings crumbling. Take what you must have, Lubelski, and return it to where it will shine brightest.
More about: Samara Lubelski
