I’ve never been one much for thunder, either as disorienting roar or as precursor to destruction.  Something about it’s weak: if you’re going to lash the world, just fucking do it—don’t give warning to flee. But Jenny Wilson has a storm in her veins, thunder is all she hears, ‘problems are all she knows’; and if you strike her one more time, if you let the thunder shake loose, monumental life is going to come springing out of her.

You’re never going to call Jenny Wilson a weak person; and I don’t know her, but I feel kindred to her. Beneath those lyrics and understated beats is a far underestimated power that’s always been there, but that’s been masked by a mercurial mind and miserable motif of a life mixing to mass destruction levels. Life hit her hard, and it turned her voice–her strength– stormy and inwardly sadistic, so that her mind became a constant flash flood zone and her tongue a desert.  And that thunder, much like the arrangement’s steady immutable beats in the beginning of the track beats her in veins like a constant war siren, lightning blitkrieg never far off.

But Trentmoller’s arrangement in the backhalf subverts that control, signaling Wilson is learning to harness the pain again to get her freedom back (as she sings on other standout track ‘Opposition’). This is rich territory for Trentmøller to mine, as he has an insanely alert ear for the emotional currents of a track—his remix of The Drum’s ‘Days’  and his own track ‘Never Stop Running‘ being absolute standouts. On this Wilson track, he’s captured the moment right before rebirth, right as pain’s hold starts to unravel, right before thunder becomes her voice again and pyramids rise by her calling out of this pain.

Follow Jenny Wilson on Facebook and Soundcloud.

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