Grief can be magical. Dealing with it can consume, or it can inspire. There are no rules. Lucy Kitchen’s world turned upside down when her husband was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Writing songs became impossible. She took to writing “little miniature poems, often just four lines, to have an outlet, a way of capturing thoughts and feelings.” After his death she returned to those thoughts. Rather than losing herself in grief, she leaned into a conversation the two had toward the end, where he told her he wanted her to live her life and do whatever she wanted. The songs on In the Low Light became a way to move on.
‘Winter King’ became the way forward. The little lines she had written down became the first verse, “You taste like winter, honey wine upon my tongue/ I would drink you down like I’ve been parched for years/ Oh if only you were here.” Amidst the guitars and flute, there is both a coldness and a warmth. It has the qualities of folktale, with a fire of electric guitar that pushes forward toward the song’s conclusion.
Longing is a part of the landscape of these songs. ‘In My Corner’ feels like a conversation with the ghost of her husband. One particular set of lines ended up becoming the album’s title, “But baby it’s in the low light/ That I miss you most/ I’ve been searching the seasons/ For your spirit or your ghost.” It’s a solemn expression of grief with a steel guitar playing mournfully in the background. Despite that, she is attempting to discover a new path forward, “And baby I’m trying to be stronger/ Trying to live how we talked about/ Forging a new way through the dirt and the dust.”
The love these two shared is still an incredible force. One that’s still felt despite the sadness and the tears. ‘Blue Light’ faces those changes head on, with feelings that refuse to go away. Gentle electric guitars frame the picture as Kitchen frames the details, “You’re still the one/ Who kissed me on main street/ In the rain.” While this is a love song, it’s one that highlights the difference now, without being overcome by sadness, “And I used to say/ Everything will be alright/ I know that’s not true anymore/ ‘Cos everything’s changed/ Everything’s changed/ But we’re still the same.” Her husband may be gone, but the love still endures.
Throughout the album songs show a woman in love, aware that her husband does not have much time left. ‘Chemo Song’ illustrates just how much Kitchen loves the man lost in dreams while she remains awake, not ready to let him go. While there is no happy ending to these tales, there is a love that will not die. ‘The Boatman’ floats on a bed of strings while acknowledging the reality of what remains. “I’m gonna bury my grief/ In the brown and rotting leaves/ Of this stormy winter/ I’m gonna take that love/ And all that was lost/ And let it go.”
Lucy Kitchen carries on. She continues to sing because it gives her strength and hope, which is the incredible message at the heart of In the Low Light. “I’m not a sad person. I don’t submit to losing your life to grief. I have lots of things that I want to do with my life,” she says. There is still more for her to do, and singing is a way for her to move forward, a way to get beyond the pain.