I really hope Dana Sipos has been performing Trick of the Light in order at her live shows. It's a lush journey foreshadowed by the album's cover — an album that is gorgeous at first glance but increasingly foreboding the further you wade in. The first few songs are expertly written, lighthearted folk songs. But once we hit "Shenandoah," all bets are off. Soon, we're racing through the woods, either propelled or pulled by an invisible force. Trick of the Light, if listened from start to finish, feels like a cautionary fairy tale. Not the Disney-fied stuff — the ones that were intended to warn children of their fate if they ignored their elders.
By the time we get to "When the Body Breaks," a deconstruction of musical genres and a truly remarkable feat of physicality (you'll see what I mean when you listen), the spell seems to be at its height. Suddenly, we return to a sense of normalcy with "Windsong" — as if it had all been a fever dream, or, perhaps, we came through the other side of the forest. In the capable hands of Sipos, though, you know that would never have gotten truly lost. Trick of the Light showcases Sipos' admirable control and her thirst for experimentaiton. It's truly a journey, and one well worth taking.