Indie-pop singer Victoria Bigelow’s “Songs For No One Vol. 2” smoothly packages thoughts of change and motherhood into a brief but stirring five-song EP that sonically swelters, lyrically strikes and thematically cuts deep.
The Arizona-based singer-songwriter’s latest EP follows 2023’s “Songs For No One, Vol. 1” and is written entirely by Bigelow. The singer got her start in music at age 12 after her mother bought her guitar, prompting her passion for songwriting. Her musical style is reminiscent of the singer-songwriter types of the ‘60s and ‘70s, with sweeping pop-country sensibilities.
Opening the EP is “Under the Tree,” which leads listeners into the project with the quiet strumming of acoustic guitar before added percussion and steel guitar evoke images of a desolate Western landscape scorched by the hot summer sun. The evocative instrumentation was an intentional effort by Bigelow, as she describes, “I really wanted to bring the listener into my sonic interpretation of the Southwest and the vastness it offers.” The song glides along with an engaging yet tranquil quality to it as Bigelow delivers lines such as “I’ll always be under the tree/Waiting for someone to come to me/I watch them rot and fall away.” Near the song’s close, vocal effects kick in, manipulating her voice in a manner that steers clear of becoming distracting or out of place, but rather kneading a unique layer to the song.
Bigelow’s voice is a compounded instrument in itself, often quickly switching between a low and near-monotone resonance and a fluttering lilt. In its deeper moments, her voice is somewhat reminiscent of alternative pop singer Ethel Cain and ethereal ‘90s staple Mazzy Star — which is no coincidence considering Bigelow has an official cover of “Fade Into You” under her belt.
“Going Blue” details a series of milestones in Bigelow’s life — the first of which being her 21st birthday (“There’s whiskey in the freezer/I don’t wanna celebrate”) and the second being the discovery of her pregnancy (“My hands are shaking bad/I just found out”). In her recounting of these moments, the singer reminisces with an evident wisdom that she possesses with hindsight (as they say, it tends to be 20/20). But even with the knowledge that she made it through each challenging moment, her honesty amid her confessions strikes the listener. Whether it be a high schooler unsure what to do after graduation, a college graduate facing the workforce, or a struggling twenty something grappling with a quarter life crisis, lines such as “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this/Wish I was but I’m just a kid” cut deep and resonate with the moments when one feels small and unsure of what to do next.
The song shares its name with the title of Bigelow’s debut 2019 EP, and offers a sort of full circle moment to her career. From her beginnings as a young mother navigating feelings of destructive self-doubt (“How could I blame you/I wouldn’t love me at all”) to still bearing her fears but maintaining a greater wisdom, the evolution of her artistic growth is apparent.
Despite the universal nature to the striking and honest themes in Bigelow’s music, her songs avoid falling down the rabbit hole of corniness. The closest the EP comes to cornball territory is on “The Kids,” which at its best is a straightforward cut about loss of adolescent innocence, but at times sounds a bit too similar to an unreleased Lana Del Rey song that finds virality on TikTok (not to mention relies on subverting the overused mantra of “the kids are alright”). Even with the rudimentary nature of some lyrics, she conceals these to-the-point lines in smooth instrumentation that allows for the listener to tune into the production rather than lyricism if they choose.
Bigelow clearly avoids the trap of catering music to the brain-rotted masses that many up-and-comers fall into in an effort to reach an audience.
Across the EP, there are catchy hooks and brain-scratching production elements, but they never come across as contrived efforts to achieve mass appeal. There is an easy-listening essence to the EP, but that is not its central merit. Much more importantly, the songs blend together Bigelow’s impressive lyrical honesty with expansive-sounding arrangements fit for late-night bedroom pondering or journeys on the open road.
