Half Waif - The Caretaker

by Zena Grieg

published: 25 / 6 / 2020

Label: Anti
Format: CD

Understated and technically accomplished celebration of ordinariness on fourth album from New York-based singer-songwriter Half Waif

Review

This the fourth album and a solo project by Nandi Rose Plunkett, the singer-songwriter/musician from Brooklyn, who performs as Half Waif. It follows up on the 2018 ‘Lavender,’ named after the flowers in her grandmother’s garden, an album exploring her ancestry, life and death, fear and tragedy. In ‘The Caretaker’ the focus is inward, with a drive to understand, improve and heal: “It’s the internal landscape that I want to reflect. Even in winter, when things are bleak, I’m reaching for this time when the yard is full of greenery and life, and I’m more content and loving myself.” Stand-out tracks include ‘Ordinary People’, accompanied by a video which was written in collaboration with director Kenna Hynes. It is a cinematic piece tracking the movement from isolation to connection, as the scenes change from a tableau of individuals to an exuberant house party. Plunkett said: “I wanted to honour and celebrate my ordinariness as an incredible tool for making me feel less alone…. The song is a reassurance that feeling bad — or ‘ill’ — isn’t something that needs to be corrected. There’s a depth of experience that comes from feeling emotions at their extremes. And it is, in fact, this vivid, varied messiness that makes us human and ordinary.” ‘Clouds Rest’ resonates with its infectious beat and poignant call to slow down and be kind to oneself. ‘My Best Self’ uplifts with its positive chorus “Be the one you wanna be/See how you want to be seen”, set against haunting minimalist orchestration. ‘In August’, the instrumentation reflects the ache of a healing wound with its layered vocals and shrouded synths over an electric piano, mirroring both growth and the grief of ending. This is a song about the loss of friendship and mutual responsibility for this. This understated and technically accomplished collection of 11 songs last barely more than thirty minutes. They transcend each season and track a journey of personal change, and end on a hopeful note in ‘Window Place,’ with its restrained arrangement culminating in a kind of catharsis: “ My life is like a window/The view is changed/I can never leave the building/But it’s home all the same.”