Richard Edwards' second album since setting
Margot & the Nuclear So and So's aside,
Verdugo finds him back in the studio with producer
Rob Schnapf (
Elliott Smith,
Beck) and the same backing band, but with a different impetus. While 2017's
Lemon Cotton Candy Sunset worked through some of the toll of a serious illness and divorce, a year later,
Verdugo collects tracks of a hopeful nature, and even a few character-based songs. It includes several that were written at the same time as
Lemon Cotton Candy Sunset but which didn't make it onto the album due to these differences in perspective and tone. There's still a lingering sense of loss on
Verdugo, especially on selections like "Something Wicked" and the hazy, longing "Strange" ("I can hear your voice/It sounds strange to me"). The sparer "Something Wicked" is a fragile, acoustic guitar ballad that wants someone it can't have. It showcases
Edwards' soft, quavering vocal delivery on a lilting melody that moves in and out of his falsetto. Later, strings, acoustic and electric guitars, and murky electronics and effects conspire on the basement-evoking "Pornographic Teens." Its blurred quality and echoing vocals seem to reflect its sordid subject matter. The album has a few relatively brighter, uptempo songs as well, including "A Woman Who Can't Say No" and the driving "Howlin' Heart." Both of those tracks include backing vocalists and expansive, live-sounding, full-band arrangements. Throughout, however, the album is populated with dreamy textures and wistful chords. While
Verdugo is certainly a companion piece to
Lemon Cotton Candy Sunset, in its conception and production, it reestablishes that
Edwards can write elegant, affecting tunes regardless of subject matter or circumstance. Just ask Margot.