Arriving in 2018, Snail Mail’s first full-length record, Lush, was an instant hit. Emblematic of a coming-of-age experience surrounded by suburbia, guitarist and lead singer Lindsey Jordan was only 19-years-old at the time of its release. With a pointed pen, Jordan’s lyricism deftly captured both the euphoria of young love as well as the cracks that form along its way.
Lush signaled the arrival of a musical titan. Though rough around its edges, Lush proved that Snail Mail was worthy of the praise it was receiving. However, Jordan was quickly lumped into the familiar category of female indie-rocker. Nearly lost among the likes of Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers, Soccer Mommy, and others, Snail Mail’s debut managed to stay afloat amongst its bigger company. Nevertheless, it was still Snail Mail’s zenith—and then Lindsey Jordan disappeared for three years.
In early November 2021, Snail Mail’s second record titled Valentine hit the stands to major acclaim from critics. Only 10 tracks long, Jordan proved that Lush was only a taste of what she could be capable of. Valentine is larger in sonic quality, but presents a sense of resignation that isn’t quite as prominent in its predecessor; while Lush perfected the art of an upbeat track (“Pristine,” “Heat Wave”), the record’s quieter counterparts don’t hit the same mark (“Deep Sea”).
On Valentine, however, following along Jordan’s intended path is effortless—when Lindsey Jordan takes flight, she soars. Jordan captures the listener from the get-go with title track “Valentine” next to the swooping, robotic melody of “Ben Franklin.” “Forever (Sailing)” is charged with contempt towards an ex-lover over a drawling snare and fleeting guitar licks. Record highlights “Light Blue” and “Mia” display a new degree of attention being paid to Jordan’s slower songs, a departure from the shallower sound of Lush’s more muted moments. Track eight, “Glory,” sonically sounds closest to Lush, but still wows.
Though their themes overlap, Valentine indicates an upward trajectory in Jordan’s capabilities as a songwriter. Both records detail Jordan’s hunger and uneven approach to love, yet Valentine investigates the uglier parts of love—jealousy, unbridled wanting, scorn, and dependency. “c. et al” discusses a relationship lacking both mental and physical boundaries. “Madonna” illustrates the overt romanticization of a partner. Jordan herself described “Headlock” as a song that sees one “losing [themselves] in a relationship.”
Valentine sprawls across all the areas Lush failed to cover. If this is the growth Jordan showcases after aging a few years, it’s safe to assume Snail Mail’s work will continue to bloom with less and less hesitation. Sharper in all aspects, Valentine marks the further maturation of Jordan, who’s voice is even fuller than on Lush. From a debut that delivered lines like “I won’t love anyone else / I’ll never love anyone else” to a second record providing others such as “Our love’s a sickness, baby / I’m holding on tight, I don’t know why / I’ve come to hate my body / ‘Cause now it’s not yours, now it’s not mine,” Jordan proves that she’s here to stay.