sun child ‘waves’
a lettuce & cheddar album review
“This is an album that rewards close listening, offering comfort in its cohesion and surprise in its small details. With Waves, Sun Child create a world you want to linger in, one that resonates long after the last song ends.”
This is obviousy not our first review of something from Sun Child. We have been longtime fans and this album solidifies that we’re in for the long haul. With Waves, folk group Sun Child, fronted by vocalist Brooke Garwood, deliver an album that feels both intimate and carefully sculpted. The band thrives on consistency of instrumentation and texture, yet avoids monotony by weaving small but meaningful changes into each track. The pacing feels deliberate, a journey that moves from meditative piano ballads to folk-pop songs full of color, before finally settling into something expansive and reflective.
Melody is the throughline that ties everything together. Garwood’s vocals carry lines that are memorable and emotive, often supported by harmonies from the band that give them extra lift. Strings, pianos, and guitars provide a steady anchor, while subtle touches like mandolin, vocal pads, and distorted drones bring depth to the arrangements. From the opening moments of “Eclipse,” with its rippling piano arpeggios, airy strings, and distorted low drones, the song ushers listeners into a carefully built sonic world that balances light and shadow.
The title track, “Waves,” captures much of what the album does so well. A haunting guitar progression sets the tone, joined by sparse drums and a bassline that glides underneath. The vocal delivery is soft and restrained, but the bridge shifts into an almost psychedelic space with vocal pads and textures that expand the song’s reach. “Floating” is song that we’ve reviewed before and absolutely love. It builds around a twangy guitar riff and layered vocals, with personal lyrics recalling Phoebe Bridgers’ diaristic approach. Strings and (mandolin?) textures flicker in the background, and the bridge pushes the track into a new gear, offering one of the album’s most memorable moments.
“Breathing” brings piano back to the center, paired with a buoyant drum feel and another vocal riff that anchors the chorus. Harmonies from the band add richness, while strings widen the arrangement’s scope. “For Mary” begins in a quieter, more fragile mode, with a lovely guitar progression and delicate vocals. Harmonies again blend beautifully on the hook, and the warped piano plucks after the chorus offer a surprising twist. When drums enter in the second half, the song shifts into something more expansive without losing its intimacy.
The record finds its most uplifting spirit on “Shooting Star.” Airy electric piano chords and light, breathy vocals create an atmosphere of weightlessness, while harmonies and evolving drum textures carry the track higher. The sweeping vocal melody on the hook matches lyrics that feel openhearted and optimistic. By contrast, “Snooze” plays with a more melancholic palette, built on a crisp electric guitar lead and evocative lyrics that once again call to mind Bridgers or even some early birdy. Instrumental breakdowns open space in the arrangement, while layered vocals rise and fall with emotional intensity.
“Watching the Rain Fall” serves as an interlude, a piano-based piece with rain sounds folded into the mix. It echoes the opener while clearing space for the closing stretch. “Slow Down” follows as one of the album’s most emotional peaks. The piano chords are simple but striking, and Garwood’s performance is raw and unguarded. Thematically it is one of the most relatable songs here, capturing the weight of feeling overwhelmed and responding with a reminder to pause. Even the production mirrors the message, pulling back in tempo and dynamics while strings shade the atmosphere with warmth.
The finale, “The Garden,” to me, ties the record together with a hushed guitar line that grows steadily into something grander. Strings return, vocal phrases stretch with patience, and harmonies weave in as the drums finally arrive to give the song weight. It feels like a summation of the album’s palette, beginning delicately and ending with a sense of resolution and openness.
Waves succeeds because of its balance between consistency and evolution. Sun Child maintains a clear sonic identity across the album, but each song has its own character and detail. Garwood’s voice anchors the melodies, the band’s harmonies and instrumentation give them depth, and the sequencing creates a narrative that builds momentum before easing into reflection. The lyrics feel personal and unguarded, the production leans into warmth and tactility, and the arrangements showcase a group dynamic that values space as much as fullness. This is an album that rewards close listening, offering comfort in its cohesion and surprise in its small details. With Waves, Sun Child create a world you want to linger in, one that resonates long after the last song ends.