Worth the Wait in Every Way

There’s no better way to celebrate a nine-year comeback than making some of the best music of a career. Acclaimed acoustic trio Nickel Creek have released one of their longest records to date. While it provides only a little that’s new, Celebrants is a perfect distillation of their best qualities. The progressive tag is well-earned, with flawless transitions; the vocal arrangements are stunning and the writing builds off itself to great success.

The organic music consists of mandolins, acoustic guitars, fiddles and many more folk and bluegrass-stringed instruments. There’s little in the way of percussion, aside from the walloping handclaps of “Celebrants,” or the snaps on “Holding Pattern,” and these only serve to restrict the more interesting acoustic melodies at the forefront. Songs flow between swirling arpeggios, harsh strumming and morose finger-picking without feeling improvisational. Even the simplest transitions, like the quieter verses of “Stone’s Throw,” building to a pounding chorus, exceed the sum of their parts. It’s just as compelling, with the softer mandolins on “The Meadow” and the manic fiddle of “To the Airport.” The fact that every song fades and flows into the next is the cherry on top. Even with the length, the performances and song construction are so pristine that the record just flies by.

Chris Thile, Sara and Sean Watkins all contribute on the mic, usually for the best. There are a couple misuses of their talents, namely, Sara’s going for her roughest register on “Thinnest Wall.” It fits the song’s bitter subject matter, but does not match the not-quite jagged-enough instrumental that tries to overcompensate by getting a tad too chaotic. “Where the Long Line Leads,” with its faster tempo and the closest thing to a rock song, is a much-better use of her raucous tone.

Right from the second song, however, the vocal arrangements are largely a thing of beauty, with the trio trading off ethereal falsettos, growing to a huge choral swell on “Strangers.” It packs in so many stunning moments that it’s hard to keep track of. The chorus of “Hollywood Ending” is stacked perfectly to maximize the malaise and disappointment in the content. The anxious finger-picking slowly fading out to silence lets the harmonies on “To The Airport” shine, while the stunning trade-off on “New Blood” helps to sell the anxiety over a new direction. In addition to how beautiful they sound, they always feel in service of a greater thematic point, or flow perfectly with the music.

While not quite a concept album, Celebrants has several running lyrical themes. Post-pandemic musings about rebuilding burnt bridges and finding a new sense of community are nothing new, but synergistic sequencing breathe new life. On its own, “The Meadow” is a simple exploration of love at first sight and wondering if that initial euphoria is sustainable. But it turns tragic with the follow-up, “Thinnest Walls.” The initial euphoria gives way to petty arguments about nothing important, capturing deflection perfectly with the line, “But you let ’em have it while you’re talking at my face.” “Hollywood Ending” is a rather blunt refutation, depending on the traditional happy ending, while doing nothing to let it happen, and the subsequent “New Blood” furthers this dissatisfaction by asking, “We are one / But when / Has one / Ever been / Enough / Old friends?” and taking back power by bringing in new blood rather than by being stuck in their old ways.

“To the Airport,” the most caustic political song on the record, which is about the tyranny of TSA, stands out following the abstract child-like joy and freedom on “From the Beach.” Not all the writing is perfect. “Where The Long Line Leads” attempts to satirize internet fame and ends up a bit repetitive, without making interesting observations – but the interweaving of themes is gracefully handled and is high-quality.

There’s so much to celebrate about Celebrants. If it took nine years to make and it might be worth waiting another nine years for another masterpiece.