Bałtyk Races Against Cynicism on Hope You Can Hear Me Now

"Here's an idea I like / Here's an idea that feels right," Bałtyk croons on "Southern Horse," a swaying highlight off of the artist's new album Hope You Can Hear Me Now. The track hits on the evocative, bittersweet qualities which have defined the Warsaw-based singer-songwriter's career, though its carefree, country-tinged atmosphere makes it somewhat of a standout. But on the whole, something more intangible sets "Southern Horse," as well as the rest of the new album, further apart in Bałtyk's discography—not separated entirely, but reflecting on their output so far.

Hope You Can Hear Me Now revisits the personal, introspective themes of Bałtyk's previous albums. Narrative glimpses into the artist's life and expressions of self-doubt remain some of their key devices, such as on the glitchy "Human Enough": "Got elbowed on the bus / Shit, guess I must've deserved that." But compared to earlier records like 2019's duo Self-help Pt. 1 and Pt. 2, on Hope You Can Hear Me Now Bałtyk weaves more flashes of abstraction into their confessional lyrics. The combination of these lyrical threads fuels "Yoko," which juxtaposes lines on the creative process ("Dispose of all art, but sometimes look back") with stark self-examination ("I cried myself to sleep last night / It's cause I've realized that I can love still"). The song's instrumental follows suit, with slowly churning, bluesy choruses reminiscent of recent ANOHNI and the Johnsons suddenly accelerating into urgent, propulsive verses.

The interplay between introspective and abstract lyrics reflects the central concept of Hope You Can Hear Me Now, the artist's attempt to balance a world of cynicism-inducing annoyances and pains with their inner drive for emotional catharsis. Bałtyk cites the new sincerity movement, which examines the impact of irony on the arts and philosophy, as an influence on the album's outlook. In turn, the impact of key musical figures in the movement, like David Berman of Silver Jews and Purple Mountains, is felt across the album, most clearly in a lyrical interest in honesty. As in their previous work, it's often expressed as emotional vulnerability and nostalgia both bitter and sweet, such as on "Snow," which recounts the passing of a childhood pet against a burbling indietronica backdrop. Bałtyk takes this pursuit of honesty further, describing the minute and mundane details of their life, treating them with the same lyrical weight as the emotions that the songs lay bare. "Showerhead" demonstrates this approach literally:

"I write down the truth now, how it really is / Showerhead rust, running shoe silver strip."

Sonically, Hope You Can Hear Me Now also represents a development on the artist's previous works. In comparison to 2022's Grapefruit, guitar replaces keys as the primary vehicle, recalling Bałtyk's earliest works, intimate recordings indebted to indie folk and slowcore. Hope You Can Hear Me Now does not simply revisit these sounds but enriches them with a new, earthy liveliness that departs from the glacial calm of records like 2018's Fleeting Light. The album's opener, "Only Tonight," starts with a lone strumming acoustic and sparse drums, but grows into a warm, rocking track as guitar notes bend overhead, a bass chugs underneath, and Bałtyk laments, "What do I do now?". The sparse arrangement of "Werewolf Blood" is complemented by its creaky, detuned guitar, calling to mind the timeless recordings of underground folk hero Michael Hurley. Across the album, scattered infusions of digital sounds keep the affair dynamic, most satisfyingly in the coda to the closing track "Is This What They Want," where twinkling synths and guitar lines entangle atop a driving drum machine.

This tendency to revisit and build upon past ideas and sounds is one of Hope You Can Hear Me Now's most rewarding qualities. While it's easy to draw comparisons to Bałtyk's earlier, vulnerable works, there's a certain quality that sets the new album apart. More than ever, their songs have a sense of being lived-in, displaying not only the world-weariness that comes with experience but also the wisdom that comes from trying to navigate it. As Bałtyk cries on "No Car Is Fast Enough," "The truth is out there / And I’m not too scared to have a look." The truth they're looking for is a new sensation in their music, dancing around its edges: a sense of hope.

Hope You Can Hear Me Now is available now on streaming services and Bandcamp for digital purchase or on limited-edition cassette via trickyStoop.