A fantastic display of emotively impactful folk songwriting, Sirens is the debut full-length album from New York-based singer-songwriter Ryan Rickenbach. Produced by Cass Dillon, the vinyl release utilizes acoustic-driven instrumentation and Rickenbach’s memorable baritone vocals while thematically traversing across obsessions, addiction, and self-reckoning along an emotional odyssey toward stability.
“The album’s title has the luxury of retrospect. These songs tell what happened as I travelled towards a place I would call home,” says Rickenbach, who has crafted the album’s tracks since 2019. “They were written in an intensely creative period of my life that feels almost mythical now,” he says. “A time when the only avenue for making sense of my experiences was songwriting.”
“Bad Man” opens the album with a melodic, acoustic-driven warmth, bolstered by Rickenbach’s suavely impactful vocals — admitting to being a “bad man” following interest from another. “Just let me be,” he pleads, throughout the track shifting between vulnerability and defiance, especially apparent in the gripping bridge: “You don’t know me at all / It’s not the full story.” It makes for an apt opener on an intimate album tracing a personal journey of retrospection, a process that prompts some self-analysis. The ensuing “Cocaine Blues” ushers in a more rollicking, swampy rock sound, its self-reckoning apparent during a sweltering declaration — “well I looked in the mirror said I’m an addict” — and subsequent “I got the cocaine blues!” outpouring.
Continued realizations of a deteriorating self show on “Hallelujah Here We Go,” its steady rhythms and guitar strums melding a title-touting vocal harmoniousness with more solemn desires, like how “I wanna drown myself In a sea of booze” and showing a preference for fantasy over grim reality. An evolving state, from nonchalance to admitted emotion, then unveils on “Morphine Heart,” where smitten “I fell in love with you” sentiments infuse with a somber acknowledgement, that sustaining a functional connection while grappling with drug-induced numbness can present challenges. The affectingly lush “For You” then resembles a turning point of sorts, where Rickenbach’s “my love’s for you” lyrical adoration coexists with trickling acoustic dreaminess. The lyrics anchor themselves in unconditional devotion and greater clarity, relative to the preceding track’s depictions of turbulence and intoxication.
Life’s frequent shifts between comfortable adoration and anxious insecurity are artfully addressed on the soulful “Come Thru,” which follows up “For You” with a plunge back into the paralyzing terror of abandonment. The shift upends the previous suggestion of stability, replacing confident devotion with the agonizing paranoia of a fading connection. “Why don’t you wanna come through?” his vocals let out, heartfelt in its yearning while sitting in the afternoon, high on a park bench, pondering the future. Both “Come Thru” and the subsequent “Porcelain” are especially riveting in their vocal work, the latter achieving a hypnotic bustling in its pulsing bass and touch of bossa-nova rhythms amidst harmonious vocal flourishes.
A hazy Sunday setting and serene guitar work delight on “Lover Lay,” pining for uncomplicated intimacy and personal refuge from aforementioned bouts of paranoia and heartbreak. “Nothing to be concerned about,” calming vocals remind, tempting “lover lay, your head this way” thereafter. Album finale “Down In The Country” arrives next, crafting a serene, pastoral resolution to the album’s tumultuous journey toward finding home. Moving past previous narcotic and emotional escapes, the track embraces enduring devotion with the comforting assurance that love “sees you through to the end of your days.” Sirens is a resonating success from Ryan Rickenbach, abundant in quality songwriting that captures the many faces, moods, and obstacles apparent in one’s life journey.
