Lick The Spoon, Let It Soften is the sophomore album of Lamplight – the songwriting project of Brooklyn-based musician Ian Williams. The album tells a tale as old as time, of love, loss, and finding space in our lives for both of these while also going on living. Sonically and lyrically, the album is as intimate as it can be, with mundane everyday things becoming vessels for grief and stripped-back instruments carrying Williams’s often sorrowful words.
It opens with “Promise To Myself”, a track with a sense of doom looming over it. There is the anticipation of an end and the uncertainty around it; there are small, intimate moments and habits that are unique to this dynamic and won’t be easily replicated or replaced, and all of this is delivered in an intimate, rather simple sound held together by the beautiful guitar.
“Clover” is an attempt at moving on, where the singer tries to convince both himself and the other that letting go would not be that difficult. But then the concern and the connection leak through as he asks
Is your yard still full of clover and white oak
I never minded when it rained my shirt soaked
Call me when you catch your breath again
With “Can’t Know That Now”, Williams tries to peek at the future while keeping the past in view. Knowing how something ends does not necessarily make you want to not have experienced it at all. The past can be cherished, acknowledged, and grieved – all at once, and the project grapples with this idea consistently.
I can’t know that now
I can’t call her now
The singer states these as given– these things are no longer possible; there are no two ways about it. There is resignation and the beginning of acceptance.
“Meadow’s ‘gain” is the slow first steps of moving on, doing the everyday things on your own– cooking for one, doing dishes alone, not putting up a tree for Christmas; this track exists in a liminal space between a life with and then without the other. While everyday reality has obviously changed, it is constantly being measured relative to how things used to be before. So the absence is itself a looming presence throughout. It ends with a beautiful instrumental stretch that leaves you staring into space with memories running through your head.
From here on, moving on, trying to find love again, and filling the hole in your chest becomes the major theme of the project. With “Speak To Us Of Love”, it is evident that love is plenty, and it is not in its nature to bind, and “Last Room” is a statement about the non-linear nature of the healing process. You cannot just decide and suddenly let everything from the past go; too much history is something that is bound to keep coming back to you one way or another.
And “Altar” is the narrative definiteness that this tension between the past and the future leads to. They meet again with their guards up, still intimate in a weird way but now for the purpose of parting ways. This is where the narrative shift happens, as “House Party” brings in the idea of meeting someone new and going through the initial stages of falling in love again. The depth of voice in some places and the way it muddles the lyrics makes it sound like another instrument on the track.
It is followed by the techno-sounding beat of “Portal To August” and then “Soft Spot” – both of which are nostalgic and hopeful. “Soft Spot” is very much a healing song; the past is acknowledged even when it is the cause of the pain and the thing he is trying to heal from. The way the vocals are chopped up to match the instrumentation of the track really stands out.
The album follows a quite distinct narrative arc which seems to begin to wrap up with the penultimate track – “I’ll Be Careful With It”. The singer is singing to both the past and the present as the opportunity to love and be loved is presented to him again, and he promises to be careful with it. And with “Ring Stains”, Lamplight ends the album on a rather high note.
I just get to be happy now that’s wild
Spill another glass who gives a shit it dries
There is acceptance that eventually time heals most things, and even if there are scars left behind by old wounds, they do not always ache the same. This duality of grief – remembrance and moving on – is what the album is keen on capturing, and it manages to successfully do so.
Lick The Spoon, Let It Soften is a portrait of grief and sorrow, and so is a portrait of life too. It invites you along for a journey of heartbreak and healing and holds your hand through it all. Give it a listen and find more information about Lamplight’s upcoming live performances on their socials!
Written by Riya
