Some albums announce themselves with a roar. Others arrive quietly, kind of casually strolling into your life when you weren’t looking. Returning to Myself did the latter. Brandi Carlile’s most recent record just appeared, like an old friend in the doorway with a bottle of wine and an understanding nod. It is my album of the year not because it is loud or revolutionary, but because it is steady, wise and exactly what I needed.
The title track began life as a poem, scribbled alone in Aaron Dessner's studio after years of Carlile supporting other musical legends: Joni Mitchell, Elton John, Alicia Keys, Miley Cyrus… "Returning to Myself" is what happened when she took the time - and felt brave enough - to turn internal. For those of us navigating the choppy waters of midlife, it feels instantly familiar.
“Human” has quickly become my latest personal anthem, speaking directly to anyone who's trying to slow down lest they put their back out or have a heart attack (hard identify). You can hardly happily doomscroll these days without someone wanging on about perimenopause, but Carlile - even if unintentionally - seems to crack open that particular nut to reveal a kernel of hope: that alongside the fear, tears, rage and profuse sweating, there's wisdom too. She signals a special kind of confidence that comes not from striving but from acceptance – from recognising that the field in which your fucks once grew has now become barren, and maybe that's OK.
Throughout the album, Carlile balances tenderness with clarity. Returning to Myself is a warm comfort blanket, as luminous as the northern lights she sings of on “A War With Time”, a look back that acknowledges “none of it was overrated” but knows when to say “I want you to go”. In “Anniversary”, she bats away the notion to “lose some weight or change my hair – what a waste of all the things I’ve been through.” That line alone deserves a standing ovation.
“Joni” captures the yin and yang of Mitchell – a shared musical heroine and ultimate soundtracker of freedom – as both a “wild woman” and “a game of solitaire”; "You Without Me" tenderly watches children growing up and moving away and “No One Knows Us”, speaks directly to the low-level anxiety of modern life, and to the solace found in the friends who know you well enough to sit alongside you when the going is tough.
The album closes with "A Long Goodbye", and a wry reminder that "it's only life after all". It's a fitting step on the journey with Brandi Carlile that I've been on for years now, and I love that it's pulling up a chair instead of taking a bow.
Three More Essential Albums of 2025
- Florence + the Machine - Everybody Scream
- Self Esteem - A Complicated Woman
- Wednesday - Bleeds
Musical Experiences of the Year
- Wilderness Festival 2025
- Billie Eilish at the 02
- Benson Boone at the 02
Track of the Year
- Rosalia, La Perla
