Rich, charming and deeply comforting, it earns an immediate replay.
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Sessions · Playlists · Behind the scenes
Snail Mail’s ‘Ricochet’ arrives with open arms and very good timing. Lindsey Jordan stretches her sound across a broader canvas, letting the songs expand and breathe while keeping her writing front and centre. Guitars surge and settle, strings sweep through the mix, and the whole record settles into a gentle glow - the musical equivalent of a thick blanket and a cup of tea (scientifically proven to improve everything).
Jordan guides the album with confidence; her voice cuts cleanly through the rich instrumentation, while everything around it blooms. A strong 90s feel runs through the record too, that familiar alt-rock warmth where big guitars and widescreen melodies move together in patient, satisfying arcs. The strings add extra depth, weaving through the guitars and lifting the songs higher without crowding them.
‘Dead End’ barrels forward on thick guitars before opening into a gleeful singalong that practically demands a roomful of voices joining in. ‘My Maker’ pivots toward bigger questions, Jordan imagining herself pleading with a celestial bouncer for entry upstairs; existential dread delivered through a melody that swells and soars.
Across ‘Ricochet’, Jordan wrestles with big existential thoughts while the music keeps things generous and inviting. Rich, charming and deeply comforting, it earns an immediate replay. And probably another straight after.
