I love it when an album from an artist new to me opens with a track that pricks my ears up and sets a palpable anticipation for the album that is unfolding before me. And so it was with the title track of the album. The opening seconds threw me a bit, like overcast skies, and then I hear Mary's voice and the sun broke and I'm sold. This is a simple, mainly piano-focused song that adds more production toward the end, but it's Mary's voice that shines throughout.

Following that strong opener, The Wait (Don’t Tell Me) settles into something that feels instantly familiar. There’s a comforting quality to it that reminds me a little of Shania Twain, though this leans more toward adult contemporary than pop. It’s catchy without being overly polished, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it on the radio.

That sense of familiarity gives way to a subtle shift in mood with Right Now. At times, it calls to mind early Suzanne Vega, but with more urgency and immediacy. It’s a track that draws you in a little deeper and shows another shade of Mary’s songwriting.

The journey continues with After the Disaster, which takes a turn toward a country-tinged sound. I’ll admit, country isn’t always my comfort zone, but I approach every song with an open mind, and this one grabbed my attention and the attention of my tapping foot. It’s heartfelt and grounded, adding another texture to the album.

Then comes Draw Blood, a title that naturally piqued my curiosity. I expected something darker, and while the song isn’t quite what I imagined, I was met instead with a pop-driven piece that still has bite. The simile “drawing blood from a stone” fits perfectly, but the twist of “drawing blood from a turnip” caught me off guard, maybe because it actually sounds more achievable. The song’s descent into a nearly punk-like rant was a highlight.

After that burst of energy, Salt in the Wound brings us back to Mary’s softer side. That’s not to say it’s a relief, but rather a reminder of the album's thoughtful pacing. There’s a deliberate ebb and flow here, a sense of movement that gives your ears a journey rather than keeping them in one space. This gentler tone continues with Trying to Fight the Wind, a piano-led track layered with a quiet sense of angst and anxiety. It's restrained but emotionally rich.

The reflective tone lingers into Bones and the Marrow, which again carries that Shania feel. I’m not trying to make constant comparisons, but the resemblance is hard to ignore, in the best way. I can almost hear Shania singing this one, though Mary makes it distinctly her own.

As the album nears its end, Thinking About You stands out with a haunting, choral feel. The first time I heard it, I wasn’t using headphones and couldn’t quite place the sound. Listening again at a higher volume revealed the clever vocal layering, creating a textured, ethereal atmosphere. It also feels very much like a penultimate track, a breath before the closing chapter.

That closing chapter is Bedding Down with the Deer, and it feels like a final handshake or wave goodbye. It is slow, deliberate and just a little dark. But as it progresses, it offers a glimmer of hope, a chink in the darkness, before fading to black.

This has been an album that's stayed with me for a while. I’d heard the first 30 seconds a few times and kept getting pulled away by something else. But those few seconds stuck with me and nudged me back until I could give it the attention it deserved. There's something about Mary... mmm, where have I heard that before... But seriously, this is one of those albums you put on when you need to slow down, unwind and take a little time for yourself. A bit of R and R for the soul. Mary Bue is an artist I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on.