
Larkin Poe’s Bloom feels like a conversation with the past and a rallying cry for the future, all wrapped in their distinctive brand of Southern grit and bluesy swagger. The Lovell sisters, Rebecca and Megan, have spent the better part of two decades honing their craft, and Bloom emerges as a testament to their growth, their confidence, and their refusal to be boxed into a singular sound. It’s an album about authenticity, about standing firm in the face of change—and it delivers this message with a sound that’s equal parts raw and polished, defiant and introspective.
From the opening lap steel chords of “Mockingbird,” it’s clear that Bloom is rooted in the sisters’ Southern heritage. The track is a statement piece: Rebecca’s smoky, commanding vocals declare, “I patchworked myself together,” a line that could easily serve as a thesis for the album. There’s a vulnerability here, but it’s framed with strength—a patchwork quilt that’s as resilient as it is beautiful. Megan’s lap steel weaves through the track like a second voice, one that echoes the themes of perseverance and self-discovery.
The first third of the album is solid, though not without its moments of uneven footing. “Easy Love Part 1” leans heavily into pop-tinged country, with a buoyant energy that’s almost too sweet. The lyrics, while earnest, edge into cliché territory (“He’s got a little cowboy hat on top”), and the track struggles to find the depth that defines the album’s stronger moments. Thankfully, the mood shifts with “Bluephoria,” a powerhouse of a song that grabs hold and doesn’t let go. Built on a chugging riff and punctuated by Rebecca’s searing guitar solo, it’s the kind of track that demands repeat listens. The call-and-response structure feels almost primal, a nod to the blues roots that anchor much of Larkin Poe’s work.
It’s in the middle section of Bloom that the album truly hits its stride. “If God Is a Woman” stands out as a showstopper, with its heavy, almost menacing tone and its exploration of desire and power. Rebecca’s vocals carry an edge that borders on feral, while the track’s instrumentation—driving drums, snarling guitar, and dark, moody lap steel—creates an atmosphere that’s both expansive and claustrophobic. The religious imagery woven into the lyrics gives the song a sense of grandeur, elevating it from a simple exploration of lust to something far more profound.
“Pearls” follows with a gritty rock energy that’s impossible to ignore. Anchored by Michael Webb’s B3 organ, the song explores themes of authenticity and resilience in a world dominated by superficiality. “We’ve got just enough trouble to start a reputation,” Rebecca sings with a sly grin in her voice, and it’s easy to believe her. This is Larkin Poe at their most unapologetic, embracing the imperfections that make them human and urging their listeners to do the same.
The latter third of the album takes a more eclectic turn, with mixed results. “Nowhere Fast” channels a raucous energy that’s fun but feels slightly generic when compared to the standout tracks. “Little Bit,” on the other hand, is a revelation. Its laid-back vibe and introspective lyrics create a moment of stillness amidst the album’s more chaotic tracks. There’s a quiet joy in lines like “I know I could climb higher and higher, but I’m rich right here right now,” and the song’s Beatles-esque guitar and swirling organ feel like a warm embrace.
The album closes with “Bloom Again,” a track that’s as much a mission statement as it is a farewell. Co-produced with Tyler Bryant, the song showcases the sisters’ harmonies in a way that feels almost sacred. Inspired by a suggestion from Heartbreakers guitarist Mike Campbell, the track channels the Everly Brothers in its lush, layered vocals. It’s a fitting conclusion to an album that’s all about growth, about finding strength in vulnerability and beauty in imperfection. As the final notes fade, there’s a sense of resolution—not an ending, but a new beginning.
If there’s a flaw in Bloom, it’s the uneven pacing. The album’s strongest moments are clustered in the middle, leaving the first and final thirds feeling somewhat overshadowed. Tracks like “Easy Love Part 1” and “Nowhere Fast,” while enjoyable, don’t quite reach the heights of “Bluephoria” or “If God Is a Woman.”
Larkin Poe has always been a band that defies easy categorization, and Bloom is no exception. It’s a record that wears its influences on its sleeve—Southern rock, blues, country, and even a touch of ’70s psychedelia—while forging its own path. The Lovell sisters have crafted an album that’s deeply personal yet universally relatable, a celebration of individuality that’s as empowering as it is entertaining. Eleven years after their debut, they’ve proven that they’re not just surviving—they’re thriving. And with Bloom, they invite their listeners to do the same.











