Little Mazarn plays folk music without so much as an acoustic guitar on Mustang Island. Released on June 20, the Austin-based trio doesn’t just experiment with wide-open space but settles right smack-dab in the middle of it. As if stranded in a Texas desert or any other uncharted Southern terrain, Mustang Island doesn’t try to fill its hollow landscape – but rather lets the emptiness ring out. With sparse banjo licks, expansive synths, and the weary, nature-inspired songwriting of Lindsey Verrill, Little Mazarn’s third LP feels like it’s stuck in the first stages of grief, barely perceiving the light through the window pane. “Does the earth feel the weight of me? The burden of my two feet?” Verrill asks solemnly on “The Cloud and the Snail,” before reaching an equilibrium through metaphor on “The Gate.” “I built a gate for my grief to go freely/ I’m not meant to contain wild horses,” she sings. Carolina Chauffe, Jeff Johnston, and Verrill add harsh drums and electronics to the LP, peering away from its primitive folk roots. Still singing of greenbelts, crystal caves, pecan trees, and Barton Springs, Little Mazarn closes its 10th track with a Texas landmark like no other. “Walk with me in the golden hour/ I don’t believe it’s over yet,” Verrill sings, accepting the sun’s set, knowing it’s bound to rise again.
Little Mazarn
Mustang Island (Dear Life Records)
This article appears in September 19 • 2025.