Lily Seabird - Lightspheres on Their Way
The Spire of Seabird’s Sonic Cathedral is Her Poetry. A Review of Lily Seabird’s ‘Lightspheres on Their Way’.
Lightspheres on Their Way is Vermont-based singer/songwriter Lily Seabird’s third effort in three years. After 2025’s understated but triumphant Trash Mountain, Seabird opts for a more observational approach to her songwriting, unafraid to dwell on her surroundings throughout the record’s nine tracks.
Tracked within the first few days of 2026, in a makeshift studio located in co-producer Garrett Lincks’s home, growling and ferocious guitars dominate the record’s sonic space, neighbouring Seabird’s vulnerability; it’s quiet and tense selection of numbers making themselves known right from the initial notes. ‘The Pulley’ begins swirling and emits a catalysing presence, Seabird’s concept of ‘lightspheres’ describe a number of things: “An actual light like a star, the sun, a UFO; headlights, a flashlight in the night”. Daniel Snyder’s harmonium drones throughout, adding to a haunting but beautiful start to the record as Seabird grapples with religious faith.
Soon after, the ten verses of ‘Bindlestiff’ deliver a short but sweet low-key rocker, with Seabird’s vocal delivery being akin to the likes of Lucinda Williams. Its narrative is informed by Steinbeck’s East of Eden and it’s wandering, lonely men; Rick Soszynski’s lap steel creeps in between the track’s verses like something (or someone) you can’t get away from. Lightspheres’ first single ‘Election Day’ takes no time to make itself known. A grunge rock ballad with a devilish and suspenseful guitar line covered in fuzz and grit as Seabird howls over its chorus. Election Day’s loose arrangement is expanded upon as a fittingly messy and expressive solo echoes Lily’s frustration outlined within its lyrics, cementing the track as one of the record’s undoubted standouts. ‘Pennsy’ creates a cold room to breathe in. Tender and bittersweet, Seabird deals with themes of mortality and addiction, along with its inevitable outcome of change.
Clearly, Lightspheres on Their Way serves as a purpose of understanding for the singer/songwriter. ‘Portal To The Past’ is it’s 7-minute epic. Deeply rooted in the jam-traditions of Crazy Horse, the song is like an open-road in which each member of Lily’s band can make their mark. Eliza Niemi’s cello growls underneath the guitars like an additional voice; a call and response to Seabird’s vocal. Portal To The Past is menacing and colossal; it’s final two minutes characterised by unfiltered, raw instrumentation. Seabird asserts that “the most emotional parts of the record are instrumental”, a statement that rings true as it’s the empty space within the record’s songs, such as ‘Blackstar’ and ‘Slipswitch’. Lily Seabird is looking into the face of life’s challenges and navigating its murky waters with empathy.
Written on an electric bill inside a coffee shop and moved by the recent death of folk legend Michael Hurley, ‘The Afterglow’ is the penultimate track of Lightspheres. The tracks confessional lyricism offers a glimpse into the perspective of someone who had crashed through Seabird’s fence a couple weeks before it was penned, when Seabird was still living at Trash Mountain. “The Afterglow is about letting go, and the glow that’s left after a light has gone, and before a new light has come”, Lily states. Instrumentally, The Afterglow would fit right into the track list of Purple Mountain’s record of the same name, and Seabird’s care-free delivery creates a comfortable atmosphere to the track, like she’s forgiving the destroyer of her yard. A repeating refrain of ‘Oh my God’ illustrates a spiritual maturity, questioning the cosmic implications of the colloquial and ubiquitous, and how we unknowingly are always crying out.
‘Lightspheres on Their Way’, the album’s title track is a song that musters the best of both worlds; the ones that we’ve been catapulted into for the past forty-seven minutes. Separated into two halves, Seabird describes the anticipation of losing something/someone. Once again accompanied by a bitter sounding harmonium, one can only feel hope as Daniel Snyder’s drums breaks through Seabird’s melancholy. The final melody gently emerges, played by Seabird, precisely mirroring ‘The Pulley’. Implementation of a cyclical experience concludes the record with an acceptance for change; Seabird incessantly repeats the final refrain ‘I'll be alright’ as if reassuring herself. The eponymous ‘Lightspheres’ - symbolic of hope - are simultaneously ‘on their way’ and ‘[sent] on their way’, capturing the perpetual motion of ‘life, living things, people, [and] relationships’.
Tracked within the first few days of 2026, in a makeshift studio located in co-producer Garrett Lincks’s home, growling and ferocious guitars dominate the record’s sonic space, neighbouring Seabird’s vulnerability; it’s quiet and tense selection of numbers making themselves known right from the initial notes. ‘The Pulley’ begins swirling and emits a catalysing presence, Seabird’s concept of ‘lightspheres’ describe a number of things: “An actual light like a star, the sun, a UFO; headlights, a flashlight in the night”. Daniel Snyder’s harmonium drones throughout, adding to a haunting but beautiful start to the record as Seabird grapples with religious faith.
Soon after, the ten verses of ‘Bindlestiff’ deliver a short but sweet low-key rocker, with Seabird’s vocal delivery being akin to the likes of Lucinda Williams. Its narrative is informed by Steinbeck’s East of Eden and it’s wandering, lonely men; Rick Soszynski’s lap steel creeps in between the track’s verses like something (or someone) you can’t get away from. Lightspheres’ first single ‘Election Day’ takes no time to make itself known. A grunge rock ballad with a devilish and suspenseful guitar line covered in fuzz and grit as Seabird howls over its chorus. Election Day’s loose arrangement is expanded upon as a fittingly messy and expressive solo echoes Lily’s frustration outlined within its lyrics, cementing the track as one of the record’s undoubted standouts. ‘Pennsy’ creates a cold room to breathe in. Tender and bittersweet, Seabird deals with themes of mortality and addiction, along with its inevitable outcome of change.
Clearly, Lightspheres on Their Way serves as a purpose of understanding for the singer/songwriter. ‘Portal To The Past’ is it’s 7-minute epic. Deeply rooted in the jam-traditions of Crazy Horse, the song is like an open-road in which each member of Lily’s band can make their mark. Eliza Niemi’s cello growls underneath the guitars like an additional voice; a call and response to Seabird’s vocal. Portal To The Past is menacing and colossal; it’s final two minutes characterised by unfiltered, raw instrumentation. Seabird asserts that “the most emotional parts of the record are instrumental”, a statement that rings true as it’s the empty space within the record’s songs, such as ‘Blackstar’ and ‘Slipswitch’. Lily Seabird is looking into the face of life’s challenges and navigating its murky waters with empathy.
Written on an electric bill inside a coffee shop and moved by the recent death of folk legend Michael Hurley, ‘The Afterglow’ is the penultimate track of Lightspheres. The tracks confessional lyricism offers a glimpse into the perspective of someone who had crashed through Seabird’s fence a couple weeks before it was penned, when Seabird was still living at Trash Mountain. “The Afterglow is about letting go, and the glow that’s left after a light has gone, and before a new light has come”, Lily states. Instrumentally, The Afterglow would fit right into the track list of Purple Mountain’s record of the same name, and Seabird’s care-free delivery creates a comfortable atmosphere to the track, like she’s forgiving the destroyer of her yard. A repeating refrain of ‘Oh my God’ illustrates a spiritual maturity, questioning the cosmic implications of the colloquial and ubiquitous, and how we unknowingly are always crying out.
‘Lightspheres on Their Way’, the album’s title track is a song that musters the best of both worlds; the ones that we’ve been catapulted into for the past forty-seven minutes. Separated into two halves, Seabird describes the anticipation of losing something/someone. Once again accompanied by a bitter sounding harmonium, one can only feel hope as Daniel Snyder’s drums breaks through Seabird’s melancholy. The final melody gently emerges, played by Seabird, precisely mirroring ‘The Pulley’. Implementation of a cyclical experience concludes the record with an acceptance for change; Seabird incessantly repeats the final refrain ‘I'll be alright’ as if reassuring herself. The eponymous ‘Lightspheres’ - symbolic of hope - are simultaneously ‘on their way’ and ‘[sent] on their way’, capturing the perpetual motion of ‘life, living things, people, [and] relationships’.
‘Lightspheres on Their Way’ releases physically on September 4th, and on streaming October 2nd.
You can catch Lily Seabird on tour in the UK:
8/27 Birmingham, UK @ Hare & Hounds
8/28 Norwich, UK @ NAC
8/30 Nottingham, UK @ The Grove
8/31 Glasgow, UK @ The Old Hairdresser’s
9/1 Newcastle, UK @ Cumberland Arms
9/2 Liverpool, UK @ Quarry
9/3 London, UK @ The Lexington
9/6 Dorset, UK @ End Of The Road Festival
Written by Ollie Cook
With additional notes from Dylan Kaygin
Photo by Noah Lenker