On his new album Wendy, out February 3rd via Fat Possum Records, multi-faceted New York composer Will Epstein synthesizes the impulses that make him a sought after collaborator in the film, dance, music and art worlds (HBO’s Baby God, The Martha Graham Dance Company, Nicolás Jaar, Marilyn Minter, Laurie Simmons) with a keen sense of song craft, colorful sonic world building and deeply emotional crooning to yield ten shimmering odes and lamentations of love and longing. Epstein approaches his creations with the tactility of a sculptor, performing on nearly all of the instruments and often molding their sounds into unique and mysterious forms. As the palette of expression is expanded beyond traditional songwriter fare and the sonic language rises to the plane of the verbal, a powerful fusion is formed and the sense of the artist’s hand at work yields a palpable joy that permeates the music’s varied landscapes and moods. From the charmingly ramshackle drumming and wildly loping synth-bass of “Suddenly Rain” to the finely tuned heavenly hums of “Will The Morning Come” and across the desert-dry sonic collage of “Golden”, there is always a grounded sense of the room in which the music was being made. The lyrics on Wendy, crafted in various circumstances—in solitude, with poet Maggie Millner, or with compatriot Gryphon Rue—offer some clues as to the spirit behind the formation of these sonic sculptures. Conjuring scenes of vivid intimacy, playful ambivalence, and cosmic longing, Epstein and his poets take us through the wide berth of emotions present in any great love story. Will The Morning Come: “Your hair my mood/Your eyes my food”, Suddenly Rain: “Salt water kiss/Under the fly strips/Amber strings/Dangling little wings”, Passenger: “When I was a pastor on the hill/When I was a passenger and still/When I was the farthest thing from you/Swallowed by the air, the ashes too” There is a double desire inherent in Epstein’s process. His fervor in crafting the music that wraps around his lyrics approaches that of being in love—but it also speaks to the desire to find oneself through the act of creation. What results are songs filled with personality--where each sonic gesture is like a lock of hair added to a magic potion—an alchemical infusion and devotional object that will never be fully flesh and blood (either that of the composer or his beloved) but contains a fragment of it. Through this lens, the identity of “Wendy” can be seen in many ways: as an embodiment of the composer, as a surrogate for his lover, or as an expression of the space between them. Throughout this process, Will was accompanied by co-producer Michael Coleman who shared in his delight of the unexpected. Michael began as a recording engineer on the record but consistently provided such a unique perspective on the music that his involvement deepened as the process went on.