Since Dana Falconberry’s highly personal, orchestral folk pop album Leelanau takes its name from a peninsula in Michigan, it’s no surprise that the album’s material comes principally from Falconberry’s memories of growing up taking vacations in that same area. The memories, while distant, are both lush and subtle, pieced together for a sound as light and warm as summertime itself.
The album, which Falconberry spent hours upon hours meticulously recording with friends in an old, dusty church, is drenched in earthy authenticity. Leelanau is a record in which we lose ourselves in the layers of gentle, solacing sound, and feel at once both alert and assuaged.
It’s obvious to anyone that listens to this record that Falconberry has gone to great measures to saturate Leelanau with all of the tender, nostalgic feelings of her youth, while also revealing her adept musicianship by producing an album of expanse and depth that sweeps us up into a snug space and tucks us in. Listen to “Crooked River,” above, to start dreaming.