Rediscovering lineage, ancestry, harmony, and collaboration in Wild and Clear and Blue by I’m With Her.
There is a particular stillness that comes from listening to three voices move together in harmony, not competing, not collapsing into one another, but existing in careful balance. That sense of shared presence defines Wild and Clear and Blue, the second album from I’m With Her. I’ve had the privilege of working with one of the band members, Aiofe O’Donovan, in a choral setting. That experience of listening closely, responding, and building something collectively feels deeply aligned with the ethos of this record. Across eleven songs and just over forty minutes, the trio of Aiofe O’Donovan, Sarah Jarosz, and Sara Watkins reflect on ancestry, family, grief, and the quiet ways we orient ourselves through change. This is an album that listens as much as it speaks.
Released seven years after their self-titled debut, Wild and Clear and Blue is shaped by time and not urgency. Where many records look inward or outward in isolation, this one moves laterally, connecting personal experience to something larger and shared. The songs are rooted in lineage. They are not only familial but musical and emotional, tracing how we inherit ways of loving, grieving, and understanding ourselves. Rather than centering on a singular narrative, the album allows meaning to emerge through collaboration, harmony, and the gentle accumulation of voices.
The album opens with “Ancient Light,” a fitting introduction to its reflective arc. The song feels like an invocation, grounding the listener in cycles of time and memory before anything else unfolds. When the trio sings of light that has “been shining for a long, long time,” it feels less like nostalgia than an acknowledgement and an understanding that wisdom and memory are always present, guiding even when unnoticed. The harmonies unfold gently, reinforcing the idea that continuity itself can be grounding. Rather than framing the past as something distant or burdensome, “Ancient Light” treats it as a quiet presence, something carried forward, illuminating the present without overwhelming it. The trio’s harmonies move patiently, suggesting continuity rather than rupture, as if reminding us that we are always standing in the glow of what came before.
That sense of direction finds its clearest expression in the title track, “Wild and Clear and Blue,” the album’s emotional center. The song balances motion and stillness,
capturing the feeling of standing at a threshold between memory and possibility. There is a deep attentiveness here — to landscape, to lineage, to the way both choice and inheritance shape identity. The imagery feels expansive without drifting into abstraction, allowing the song to hold both the weight of the past and the openness of what lies ahead.
“Sisters of the Night Watch” shifts the focus toward collective strength, celebrating bonds that extend beyond bloodlines into chosen family and shared responsibility. The song honors vigilance, care, and connection, the act of watching over one another through uncertainty. Rather than dramatizing hardship, it emphasizes steadiness and mutual support, suggesting that survival and meaning are often found in community, not in isolation. The interplay of voices reinforces that same idea; each part is distinct yet inseparable from the whole.
Later in the album, “Standing on the Fault Line” turns gently toward the future. The song acknowledges instability and change without resisting them, embracing uncertainty as a place of growth rather than fear. There is no grand resolution offered; instead, the song
lingers in the act of becoming, recognizing that clarity often comes not from answers, but from continued movement. It’s a fitting reflection of the album’s larger philosophy, one that values presence over conclusion.
Across Wild and Clear and Blue, I’m With Her crafts a listening experience that feels both intimate and communal. The album doesn’t demand attention through spectacle or even confession but earns it through care, patience, and deep listening. In a moment where so much music centers on rupture and immediacy, this record offers something quieter and more enduring, a reminder that understanding often comes from looking back together in order to move forward. Like the harmonies at its core, Wild and Clear and Blue finds its power not in a single voice, but in the space created together.
Review by Wilhelmina Ratto
