True to its title, “Emily Alone” was written and recorded by Emily Sprague during a few days last winter; after plans for a full-band Florist album were put on hold, she’d ended up with all these songs ruminating on loneliness that she didn’t know what to do with. It’s funny, though, because the songs that she wrote have the effect of making a listener feel less alone. Sprague creates a meditative, atmospheric blanket, her folky ramblings a comforting presence. It’s a guiding hand through the darkness that we fear so much.
Her third album, Emily Sprague is sitting by the ocean, taking walks, tending to her plants, daydreaming. She’s feeling peaceful and existential and acutely aware of every source of light in the house. The previous two albums from her indie-pop outfit Florist were full-band affairs, but in these 12 songs, Sprague steps away from her collaborators for a spell, tasked with filling time alone. It’s a familiar reprieve for the Los Angeles-based artist, who has also released several excellent ambient collections under her own name. But while those long-form compositions have evoked solitude and the natural world using modular synthesizers, Emily Alone is built from simpler tools: double-tracked vocals, acoustic guitar, and the occasional birdsong leaking in from an open window.
The Fat Angel Sings 