Pillow Talk & Love Plots: A Review of Angie J’s Letters From Eden

Angie J slips a collection of vulnerable, soul-prodding messages to her subjects in her most recent EP.

Review by Sabrii Anderson

Letters indeed – confessions, secrets, lovers, rejection – Angie J is the author, debuting her first EP Letters From Eden as well as the incredibly skilled band on the record. We open the project with “Busy,” a voicemail peeking through the hazy, rising and falling acoustic guitar of Ed Lara. “I was calling to say that… I miss you, I guess…”, where exasperation can be heard in the breaths in between, Angie then expressing that she has “something on (her) mind.” Angie sings the first lines of “Busy” mesmerizingly, as if it’s the first time she’s sat down after a week of weathering our formidable Houston humidity. Fantastic vocal layering and mixing is heard here, also accomplished by our guy wearing multiple hats, Ed Lara. “Don’t tell me that you’ll call me, so I won’t wait by the phone,” suggests that she’s been left unanswered before. Another voicemail snippet alluding to a “love-hate” relationship closes out the track, snares and kicks parking right before the last yearning chord of “Busy.” 

We’re rocked right into the bold first cadence of “Physical,” featuring an energized lead guitar solo to meet the moment. The song “Physical” uses a very upbeat, Maroon 5 pop rock-like energy. “Tell me it’s just physical so I won’t be over critical,” a line in the chorus helps contribute to a similar “Tears Dry On Their Own” tone; it is self-questioning and motive-seeking, while not getting stuck and keeping pace. Here, Angie sings about wanting emotional reassurance, but also giving her subject a chance to decide between what stands out about her and what they may like about their other suitors. Angie brings back the "If it’s conceptual, perpetual" line at the end of the chorus to execute a brief but skillfully done piece of scatting to leave her signature at the end of this second track, a step up from the single version. The balance between jazz and rock elements is very enjoyable to listen to, and Angie and the band both give 100%.

“Is That a Crime” opens in a much darker, Sting-like manner with more impressive acoustic guitar playing that doubles a melody carried by Angie's voice. We return to a more anticipatory rock groove that sets the stage for Angie to deliver. "I must confess, it makes me feel alive" shows Angie's passion despite "making messes" with particular relationships. The passion reprises multiple times in the "If I really...loved you" line that allows the band and Angie's vocals to flush back in with intensity like a Kelly Clarkson song, this being one of my favorite lines to hear. The included Salt ‘n Pepa reference “I'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man” draws attention to ownership of her denial of those that may mistake her time with them as committed attraction. The ruthless closing guitar solo feels as if it rips the last letter up after the last ink settles.

“Secret Lovers” opens with Angie as a person harboring distress and looking for comfort. The band introduces this situation while lightening their strokes, and the rhythmic guitar octaves and airy background vocals help this song feel a bit more resurrected than the last. We find out that both Angie and her off-stage subject are taking refuge in at least one of their own secret lovers. The pre-chorus “He's miles away/Can I use you as my pillow?” rivals Angie's self-inflicted anxiety in the chorus, “He's out with her doing God knows what I fear.” The love has exited the triangle and now finds itself in a crosshairs; that is between at least four lovers that look more for avoidance than understanding. The air of the track is encapsulated in a keyboard solo on the bridge performed in a feather-toed and unbothered way during an overheard phone conversation, as if playing within the eye of the storm. The track is punctuated with two quick hits, as if to save a good thing to finish later.

We have some awesome bass work from Raymon Minton to open up our last track, “Dark Art.” “Dark Art” sounds more like a heavy-strutting, horse-riding blues thrashing, as if from a Western Saloon but in the mid 2020s. The most directly addressed song on the project, the subject of this song seems much more persuasive and in control, to which Angie directs her own concern. The singer seems to question herself for what she may have been possessed to do, and what kind of powers the other person might have had over her, citing that she “can’t stop thinking about” them. In a search for answers, an emphasized cadence at “Did I turn to stone?” lets the electric guitar run wild again. This is a track with a great deal of drama, well-placed stops and Angie’s opining cutting through dead silence with conviction, with claps in the production to clap back at the possessor of uncanny abilities. “Did I stare for too long?”, another question of being petrified plus a fall of piano keys caps off the 5th and final track as a great way to end the project Letters From Eden.

Angie J is an artist of powerful vulnerabilities, and the band she records with exhibited an amazing amount of skill to capture it, including organ and electric keyboard work that should not be forgotten in the first two tracks done by keyboardist Danny Nguyen. Angie has incredible voice control and technique that strengthens the consistency of her songwriting, and hearing Letters From Eden we are assured to get more intensity and incredible singing from this H-town grown storyteller!