Album Review: ‘Little Oblivions’ Is Julien Baker At Her Best and Darkest

The singer-songwriter’s third solo album features some of her most masterful musicianship, writing, and introspection.

Written by Felix Kalvesmaki

Photo courtesy of Julien Baker

Julien Baker’s Little Oblivions feels like a natural progression. As a singer-songwriter that started out in Tennessee punk bands, Baker released her first solo LP in 2015 with Sprained Ankle, a quiet set of unassuming songs that felt confessional and honest. Her 2017 follow-up, Turn Out The Lights, saw her with the same stripped-back ethos, centering her songs on illustrious guitar and piano work, while making her emo take on folk feel larger-than-life with subtle additions (the eerie blips at the end of “Ziptie,” for instance) to the arrangements.

In 2021, Baker goes big. The opening track of Little Oblivions, “Hardline,” is actually kind of a banger — a hard claim to make about any Julien Baker song released before it. The track starts with rhythmic intervals of strings and electronics cutting in and out, opening up into Baker’s easy delivery before the instrumental chorus explodes into clouds of smoke and mirrors. As upbeat as the song sounds, it’s truly one of Baker’s most upsetting ones. “Took the fallout, draw a hard line / When I cross it, it's the third time,” she sings, without letting the listener cross it with her. “Hardline”’s production frames the track as something triumphant and conquering; in reality, it is pessimism exemplified, best captured by the line, “It isn’t black and white / What if it’s all black, baby / All the time?” The song sounds almost cheerful. It’s hard to notice the darkness before it’s too late, and the tears are flowing.

Still, there are moments of solitude throughout Little Oblivions. “Song in E” combines jazzy chords with self-loathing. Speaking on what is easily the loneliest song on the album, Baker said it’s about wanting to be treated with the disappointment and abhor she sometimes sees in herself: “I would rather you shout at me like an equal and allow me to inhabit this imagined persona I have where I’m evil,” she said to Apple Music. “Because then, if I can confirm that you hate me and that I’m evil and I’ve failed, then I don’t any longer have to deal with the responsibility of trying to be good.” Baker takes on a masochistic tone in the third verse, as she looks for someone close to hurt her: "Oh, I wish you'd come over / Not to stay, just to tell me that I / Was your biggest mistake to my face,” she almost begs.

Image courtesy of Matador Records

Baker’s dynamic musicality is all the more impressive after reading the liner notes, which reveal that she played nearly every instrument on the album, in addition to producing the entire project herself. The only personnel listed as musicians are Baker, her boygenius bandmates Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus (who contribute harmonies to “Favor”), and Calvin Lauber (who’s credited with “additional instrumentation”). In her past records, Baker has proven her skills as a songwriter, vocalist, guitarist, and pianist. Her technical prowess, on top of her reflective lyricism and monolithic belt, already makes her into a distinct musician. On Little Oblivions, however, she welcomes her audience into something she literally cannot replicate on a stage alone, hence why she’s ditched the solo format she’s taken up while touring, in favor of playing with a band during press performances for this record.

Baker doesn’t abandon what works for her. If stripped back a bit, “Faith Healer,” “Heatwave,” and “Ringside,” could fit onto an older record or split single of hers. The same winding, gliding guitar riffs that define her emo tendencies are all throughout this record. The delicate but sturdy piano that backed tracks like “Go Home” and “Televangelist” in her earlier discography continues to add lilt and chill to her music. The boygenius EP and the “Sucker Punch” singles from Sub Pop hinted at what kind of album this would be: fuller, rhythmic, progressive, even. On this album, she proves it was evolution as opposed to experimentation.

There are moments of familiar, Baker-esque solitude throughout Little Oblivions, but Baker also doesn’t let her past define her future. It’s not merely the addition of drums and synths that make this one distinct, although that’s the most obvious difference. It’s the fact that after years of experimenting with one-off releases and live shows, Baker has transformed her work into something grander than she’s ever been artistically. She is at once Julien Baker — the insightful, introspective songwriter and guitarist that burst onto the indie scene in 2015 — and Julien Baker, the powerhouse multi-instrumentalist and record producer who’s proved she can handle every step of the creative musical process.

What’s exciting about Little Oblivions is how it opens the world up to Baker, and similarly, how it opens Baker up to the world. Perhaps in the future, Baker will take up the role her bandmate Phoebe Bridgers has and begin producing records for others. Perhaps she begins touring with other bands or forming new supergroups. One thing is clear after Baker put out this expansive body of work: She is limitless in potential.