2026 Repress w/ two extra tracks never on vinyl before
Where does the time go? This 10th anniversary pressing of Joanne Robertson's third album is about that as useful in answering that infinitely unknowable poser as anything else, though it certainly does encourage the thought. 10 years, *just like that*, and still it feels as if Robertson is really only just getting going. Wildflower originally landed just before her profile-shifting associations with Dean Blunt and thus signalled the start of what was to be an undeniable run that's slowly ushered her towards cult acclaim. If, like most I'd imagine, you only came to Robertson after Wildflower and like what you've heard, take this opportunity now to start looking back, because her particular style of close mic-d, lo-fi confessionals was fully realised from the get-go. In simple terms, you know a Joanne Robertson song when you hear it, the post-grunge longing in that voice somewhere between Mary Lou Lord, Chan Marshall and Elliott Smith but with an unswerving consistency that establishes it as exclusively her own. I personally still feel that her defining work is still to come, though the allure in looking back to see where this particular journey began remains undeniable.
