Vashti Bunyan’s third album, “Heartleap,” is purportedly her last, but it seems like she’s just settling in. The British folk singer’s canon consists of the 1970s cult classic “Just Another Diamond Day” and a 2005 comeback “Lookaftering,” released as the 2000s freak folk movement catapulted the formerly obscure Bunyan to new fame as one of its patron saints. She’s done a few collaborations as well, including an excellent duet with Vetiver on Kathy Heideman’s “Sleep A Million Years” and an even better EP, “Prospect Hummer,” with Animal Collective. But even there, her presence felt less like a celebrity guest-spot and more like a Loch Ness Monster sighting.
“Heartleap” is the first album of Bunyan’s career that doesn’t feel like a milestone, the first one that can be described as “the new Vashti Bunyan album” with little to no hyperbole. As such, it’s her most easygoing, immediate and low-stakes record. The songs here aren’t particularly “deep,” and the lyrics don’t matter as much as the way they’re sung. Bunyan’s voice is a beautiful thing, crystalline and pure but possessing a well-worn edge belying her 69 years on Earth. The arrangements are minimal yet evocative, centered around piano, acoustic guitar and bells.
“Heartleap” is unlikely to change your life, but it’s a testament to music’s ability to conjure a space for the listener to step into. Put it on over room-sized speakers and try to deny its power as the room turns into fairyland. Of all of Bunyan’s records, “Heartleap” feels the least stuck in time. “Diamond Day” wore its Joni Mitchell influence on its sleeve, while the hippie-isms of “Lookaftering” seemed anachronistic even in a musical landscape that celebrated even the most daft flower-child gibberish. “Heartleap” seems to come from another world entirely.
Perhaps Bunyan’s involvement in two major periods of folk music’s history contributes to the timelessness of “Heartleap,” but the tunes here sound like they could have come from any time in the last four decades. This may have to do with how idiosyncratic Bunyan’s approach is in the world of folk music. “Folk” (a label which Bunyan tellingly rejects) implies music focused on lyrics, prioritizing first-person perspective over dainty things like arrangement and texture. Bunyan’s music, by contrast, seems most suited for casual, lazy-day listening. “Heartleap” is best approached as an acoustic ambient album with vocals; and from this angle, it succeeds unequivocally.
If “Heartleap” truly is Bunyan’s final statement, it breaks from the conventions of the “last album” in every way possible. If Bunyan had sought to create anything more ambitious and potentially game-changing, she probably would have released it by now. Rather, she’s left us with something just as good, if not better: an immensely likable and listenable record for future generations to enjoy and remember her by.
Follow Daniel Bromfield on Twitter @bromf3