THE STAVES - GOOD WOMAN
In the nine years that have passed since The Stave’s first album, the sisters have experienced death and birth. Good Woman is bold, loud and unabashed, showing a maturity, a voice and a fearlessness that, perhaps, can only be found by going through heartbreak and loss.
Critically acclaimed trio The Staves (sisters Emily, Jess and Milly) make a long awaited and very welcome return with Good Woman, their first album in six years.
Recorded during a time of major upheaval – with births, deaths and breakups colliding – Good Woman is an anthem for female strength and sisterly bonds. Predominantly self-produced and featuring the sisters’ stunning trademark harmonies, the album is like nothing we’ve heard from The Staves before.
Known as one of the UK’s most eminent folk fixtures, Good Woman feels like a step away from what has been called The Staves’ “wholesome, homely air” and sees them exploring something jazzier, more mature, and very different sonically to their previous records. Dead & Born & Grown and If I Was are both incredibly accomplished albums, and the girls have always possessed obvious and exceptional talent. But it’s clear that in the years that have elapsed since their last album, The Staves have found a bolder voice and have a lot more to say.
Title track ‘Good Woman’ opens the album with a big middle finger up to the Patriarchy – to a society that tries to dictate what makes a “good woman”; “I cover my mouth and I straighten my back/I’m a good woman.” The song evolves from a gentle, tired eye roll and tut at the men who try to put them in a box, to a looped and layered scream of defiance – a war cry.
‘Best Friend’ adds a hint of upbeat nostalgia followed by the angry grunge of ‘Careful, Kid’, a warning that karma is a bitch and what goes around comes around.
‘Sparks’ – a tribute to the girls’ mum who passed away in 2018 – is a gentler, more reflective song. Soaring vocals sing of the tiny things we miss about people when they’re gone and how we deal with the day to day feeling of knowing we won’t hear their keys in the door anymore, or see them walk in. But we still love them despite them no longer physically being here, “In the high, I love, I love you”. The song ends almost euphorically with the three angelic voices rising together in harmony towards their mum, “Is it over? Is It real?/Did it hurt? Did you feel?”
The final track, ‘Waiting on Me to Change’, closes the album as unapologetically as ‘Good Woman’ opened it. You want me to change? The girls ask. Well, you’re out of luck, because I’m a good woman and I don’t need to change. “I’ll change when I want to.”
In the nine years that have passed since The Stave’s first album, Dead and Born and Grown, the sisters have experienced death and birth. And through it all they sure have grown. Good Woman is bold, loud and unabashed, showing a maturity, a voice and a fearlessness that, perhaps, can only be found by going through heartbreak and loss.
Jess Distill
★★★★☆