I don’t take it lightly
that a thing set in stone
can begin to roll when
the ground that you’re on is different
The third collection from Jana Horn grapples with a period of transition in its author's life, a suspension in a limbo of bitter sadness and waiting. After earning a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from the University of Virginia, Horn moved to New York and began a new life in a new city. But for every step forward, the past also resurfaces: "Always ahead, always in the past/ Turning my neck like an owl," she sings on the delicate ballad "Unused".
The owl simile suggests a nocturnal setting, and indeed, despite various references to a blue sky, the instrumental fabric is dark and shadowy. As in her two previous collections, the arrangements are skeletal, reduced to an essential scaffolding of bass, guitar and drums. It's the sparing, subterranean interjections of other instruments (woodwinds and piano) that play a crucial role, forming a telling triangulation with the harmonic structure and the silences. It's precisely thanks to this relaxed breathing room that Horn's original songwriting emerges with force: amid logical short-circuits and surreal descriptions, her words paint visually striking scenes that burst out from the underlying sonic environment.
On wind, on steam (On empty, full)
Waiting rooms, hospitals (Move two, three times)
Angel Trash bag wings
Fly on a two-moon night
I couldn’t change
I couldn’t change her mind
If Horn's third album thus seems to live in a limbo with dreamlike overtones, it's perhaps no coincidence that its author simply titled it "Jana Horn". At a moment of profound change, placing emphasis on one's own personal perspective and artistic journey strikes me as a strong act of self-affirmation. Then again, the Texan singer-songwriter hasn't upended her songwriting here, but has added another successful piece to an authorial project of real substance. Because the way these lyrical flashes and epigrammatic fragments (see the brief "Love") lean against and intersect with the often repetitive instrumental fabric can't help but leave the listener in a state of admiration for this small, arcane world that is slowcore to its core.
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01/01/2026
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Daniel Moor, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.