Light Year

There’s an almost Victorian delicacy to Jenny Gillespie’s third release, Light Year. Gillespie works in the fine-etched mode of Song to a Seagull-era Joni Mitchell, with touches of Cowboy Junkies melancholy and Sara McLachlan introspection evident as well. Her voice is most distinctive in its aching upper range, adding an extra pang to impressionistic pieces like “Shells” and “Nightmares and Appointments.” Gillespie’s lyrics stitch together fleeting images and shifting emotional impressions; tracks like “Hydra” and “New Maze” allude to stories never fully revealed. Though her music has a diaphanous, almost New Age feel, she does nail down a catchy piano hook in “Vanishing Point” and musters a somber abrasiveness in “Hummingbirds.” The alt-country tune “Littleblood” is a particularly effective mood piece, lent spooky ambiance by pedal steel and accordion touches. Light Year harkens back to an era when music fans sought out albums by poetic singer/songwriters and drew close to listen. At her best, Gillespie invites and deserves this kind of appreciation.