Ambling studiously down the epoxy resin floor, the Massachusetts native prudently connects the dots of mind and matter in this endemic tale of unwanted attention.
There’s a magical essence that lingers within every bodega. The vibrant colours of phosphorescent candy twinkling under the high bay lighting. The bountiful splendor of miscellaneous snacks staring back at you with an anthropomorphic grin. It’s a chance for a private, albeit brief moment of contemplation that many take for granted; but in this contemporary vein of folk rock, Wendel has reserved a spontaneous rendezvous that isn’t entirely welcome.
Who knew an ephemeral trip to the supermarket could morph into the hallowed confines of a shriving pew, but the power of superfluous gawking can do just that. With darting eyes etched into the back of her head, the store clerk assumes the role of the unsuspecting confident as Wendel in her hast knocks over a perilously stacked can, spilling the proverbial beans on her pervasive encounter: “you don’t know me, no not too well” she says.
The mix gently leans in with a graceful curtsy to the likes of Phoebe Bridgers and Fleetwood Mac, propagating its ability to traverse both modern and vintage textures. Vocally, the melodies are as polished as burnished metal, coated with a granular varnish that enlivens its folk sensibilities. Alongside the assiduous scrutiny of producer Jeff Davis & publisher Woolly Music, Wendel has transgressed over every inch of her psyche with a guileless swagger of enduring innocence.
I hope that people can hear something of their own experience in the album, be it in a melodic line, a lyric, or in the meaning behind the album. I want the listener to know that just like nature has a way of healing itself after destruction, there’s a way for us to do that too.
The pervasive subject of Stop & Shop, who’s linear narrative beautifully captures the crux of interpersonal relationships, encapsulates the attitude of our advocate. With an ethos balanced on the monotony of suburban life, finding yourself on the fringes of any big city will effuse frustration. The irony in yearning for a metropolis that renders many of its inhabitants despondent is the 21st century zeitgeist; but this empathy drives Wendel’s unrelenting charm, I mean we’ve all longed for something once in our lives.