ALBUM REVIEW: The Secret Sisters Offer a Warm Hug in a Scary World on ‘Mind, Man, Medicine’

The world is pretty scary these days, but The Secret Sisters are here to comfort on Mind, Man, Medicine. Reaching out to family, friends, and complete strangers — aka you, the listener — Alabama-bred siblings Laura Rogers and Lydia Slagle confront a variety of troubles, from social dysfunction to interpersonal strife, with warm hearts and a whole lot of empathy. If they can’t make everything right, it’s still nice to bask in the glow of this lovely longplayer.

The Secret Sisters (photo by David McClister)

After two stellar albums co-produced by Brandi Carlile, the sisters assume production duties for the first time alongside John Paul White (who also plays acoustic guitar) and Ben Tanner (who adds keyboards and vibraphone), crafting an uncluttered setting for their gentle folk-pop songs. While Larry Campbell uncorks a bit of snazzy, albeit tasteful, electric guitar, the main attraction remains the magical sisterly harmonies, not overlooking the solo vocal turns that add heat to the proceedings.

Their fifth outing, Mind, Man, Medicine seeks to soothe from the start. The hushed leadoff track “Space” offers relief from “whatever you’re going through,” declaring, “There will always be a line / Running from your heart to mine.” The twangy toe-tapper “Paperweight” follows by affirming this sense of an unbreakable bond, acknowledging past disappointments and insisting “I want you to keep holding me down / Building this life in a little town.” Although that’s not everybody’s idea of heaven, it sure beats loneliness and uncertainty.

Other tracks pursue all sorts of healing. Echoing the woozy grace of Phoebe Bridgers, the dreamy “If the World Was a House” searches for common humanity amidst conflict. Featuring guest vocals by Ray LaMontagne, the sleepy “All the Ways” evokes the sultry languor of prime Bonnie Raitt. And the haunting “I Can Never Be Without You Anymore” portrays parental love as overwhelming and transformative.

Nestled among these reassuring songs, “Never Walk Away” drops an unexpected anger bomb, surveying a disastrous relationship with a mixture of bitter regret and weary relief. “I am not your friend anymore / Trying to see it as an open door,” the sisters solemnly sing. As tension rises and epic drama erupts, they exclaim, “The leaving part was always up to you / But I am free and it is thanks to you / That I can walk away.” Such raw fury is genuinely unsettling.

Marked by insightful compassion and unflinching honesty, Mind, Man, Medicine feels like one vivid chapter in a gripping saga, hopefully to be continued on future albums. Don’t miss it.

The Secret Sisters’ Mind, Man, Medicine is out March 29 on New West Records.