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Waxahatchee Album Review: Tigers Blood

(ANTI-); Album art credit: Molly Matalon

BY JORDAN MAINZER

On Tigers Blood, Waxahatchee's long-awaited follow-up to 2020's career-best Saint Cloud, Katie Crutchfield trusts her gut and doubles down on the styles of music she grew up listening to. Written while on tour in 2022, during which Waxahatchee opened for many of her musical heroes like Lucinda Williams, Sheryl Crow, and Jason Isbell, Tigers Blood is an album at ease with general unease. Saint Cloud was the first album Crutchfield wrote newly sober and in love with her current partner Kevin Morby, and it glowed. Tigers Blood, then, sees her fully entering a new phase, channeling life's trials and tribulations into poetry, finding new ways to appreciate old things.

Perhaps it's hindsight, but "Right Back to It", the lead single from Tigers Blood, exemplifies what the album does best. Crutchfield considers it the first love song she's ever written, and it's one of her strongest, both in terms of vocal delivery and lyricism. She's able to subvert traditional rhyme schemes by unexpectedly bending syllables, packing in just as many words as emotional punches when setting the scene. "Photograph of us / in a spotlight / on a hot night / I was drifting in and out / Reticent on the off chant / I'm blunter than a bullseye / Begging for peace of mind," she sings over Phil Cook's circular banjo and Spencer Tweedy's gentle drums. The chorus, then, is simply classic, a paean to rediscovering intimacy in a relationship. "I've been yours for so long / We come right back to it," Crutchfield sings in harmony with guitarist MJ Lenderman, her coo in perfect contrast with his nasal twang. "But you just settle in / Like a song with no end," they continue. That many of the songs on Tigers Blood employ a certain breeze, free of time and place, is a feature, not a bug.

More than ever, Waxahatchee's songs are easy to sing along to; despite complex turns of phrase, Crutchfield keeps her words metaphorical enough to stand out, abstract enough to be relatable, direct enough to be iconic. The qualities, in conjunction with her and her backing band's performance, lead to some breathtaking moments. "You drive like you're wanted in four states / In a busted truck in Opelika," she sings over Tweedy's drum roll on the rolling "3 Sisters", right before the song's forbearing beat drops. On "Bored", she belts the song's chorus--"I can get along / My spine’s a rotted two by four / Barely hanging on / My benevolence just hits the floor / I get bored"--alongside Lenderman's sharp riffs, Tweedy's pummeling drums, and Nick Bockrath's wincing pedal steel. In context of the song's inspiration--a friendship that ended badly--Crutchfield's admissions hit harder. "Lone Star Lake", meanwhile, has no chorus: It just choogles along between verses as Crutchfield reflects on her faults with wry humor: "Shirk every rule of thumb / I got more where that came from."

Crutchfield's voice, too, has never been more expressive. For every song like "Right Back To It" or "Crimes of the Heart", where her flow is deft enough to rival your favorite rapper's, there's a song like "Crowbar", where she stretches out "I" into so many syllables you can feel the shaking vulnerability. "365", a song about codependency and addiction, places her falsetto high in the mix, emphasizing her susceptibility: "I catch your poison arrow / I catch your same disease / Bow like a weeping willow / Buckling at the knees." Fittingly, Tigers Blood ends with everybody in the recording studio--even assistant engineer Natalia Chernitsky--singing the chorus, suggestive of the universality of Crutchfield's prose. Ultimately, she knows that there's strength in numbers. When she tries to take shortcuts alone, the chickens come home to roost. "Throw a brick through the window, leave your mess at my door," she sings on "Tigers Blood", "Lord knows sooner or later it'd wash up to shore." Tigers Blood lays it all bare.