Mary Lattimore sets herself apart as a bright innovator who pushes expectation

Produced by Slowdive’s Neil Halstead at his studio in Cornwall, England, Lattimore works to create a type of feeling that oftentimes carries an emotional tug. But while not a full-on departure from her last album, Hundreds of Days, Silver Ladders taps into a more pensive side than we’ve seen previously. Throughout its seven tracks of unhurried, drifting reverie and contributions from Halstead himself, Lattimore continues to unravel the art of simplicity while quietly carving out her very own isolated corner of the world.

Like for most this year, Lattimore, too, stayed awfully busy. From a scattering of self-released singles you can find over at her Bandcamp plus an impressive number of guests spots, the one main theme that continually circles back encapsulating her work is the idea of escapism. But while some of these one-off tracks alongside her collaborative albums can lean into an average mark, it’s her full-lengths that show consistent growth. Lattimore not only achieves praise through new methods in which she utilizes her skillset, but it’s also what she chooses to pair with it. But even as Lattimore piques our interest here, a huge part of what gives Silver Ladders added depth comes from Halstead as a key player.

We hear this incorporation gingerly with opener, “Pine Trees,” the album’s most sparsely-constructed track. Its gentle lead-in shows Lattimore pairing off alongside surprisingly functional synth work. But as Silver Ladders opens up, we find out just how rich these seven songs are. The moody “Til a Mermaid Drags You Under” nods close to a shoegaze throwback, tying directly into Halstead’s guiding hand.

With that comes a sense of balance. There’s rarely a moment where either person outshines the other and this is partly what helps anchor the album. On “Sometimes He’s In My Dreams.” Lattimore highlights her steady and precise playing while working in unison alongside Halstead’s glinting guitar work – you can’t help but fully succumb to its rhythmic current. But as a duo, there’s a certain profundity to these songs. It’s a vibe that sometimes even edges close to a soundtrack score, and one in particular that personally comes to mind is the guitar-driven post-rock that Explosions in the Sky wrote for the film, Friday Night Lights. But despite subtle comparisons that Silver Ladders leans into, it remains an impressive notch in Lattimore’s catalogue–one with unique perspective and moving storytelling.

But one stark takeaway that’s always followed Lattimore’s craft is the musing element tied to it; Silver Ladders proves no different. We hear its subtleties as they shift and unfold and we may even pick up on nuances within its tracks we didn’t realize existed before. This is partly the charm that envelops Lattimore’s discography. We not only have the ability to connect with her instrumental narrative, but we use it how we see fit–it can bring us comfort or joy as much as it can offer dismay or vulnerability, all of which challenge our human nature. Lattimore continues to push our expectations with directness and by doing so achieves her mark rather easily and we understand within these striking moments she’s not just a musician, but rather a bright innovator of her time.