Irish born and Bristol-based artist Sailing Stones continues to mesmerise with the release of her compelling new single Days Come, Days Go, out now.
Many of Lindfors’ songs are like finely wrought vignettes. In Days Come, Days Go, Lindfors recalls her daughter falling “asleep on me again/The blankets of peace/The chaos circling silently”, an experience that reminded her of the drowsy, messy days of her youth. She reflects: “It was a particularly stressful time. My daughter was ill, and the only way she would sleep was if she was on me. It felt like my life was falling apart. In that moment of lying on the floor with her. I had a sense of letting go of order and control despite the shitshow around me. It was a beautiful sunny day and I was stuck inside, I couldn’t move. It was a brief, blissful kind of nihilism. It was like we were the only thing that mattered.”
This is the third single taken from her anticipated sophomore album Slow Magic, out 3rd July 2026. Lindfors’ has received early support for this release from the likes of BBC 6Music‘s Lauren Laverne, Guy Garvey and Mark Radcliffe, Under The Radar, KLOF, Atwood Magazine and Nialler9 to name a few. Experiencing Slow Magic is like entering into another dimension. Here are songs that stare at the fire, linger in rainbows, fall in slow motion like comets. Their sounds summon up Bobbie Gentry’s country heat, Scott Walker’s gutsy spirit and Linda Perhacs’ uncanny beauty. Hazy woodwind, warm guitars and spacey electronics, fed into malfunctioning tape machines, weave together and glimmer. As they descend into layers of reverb, we’re pulled into the whirlpool with them.
Lindfors had written music for years, but matrescence made her want to write about the way her emotions now crested and splintered, bubbled and softened, rallied then railed. “I remember telling my partner, I really want to write about this, but I’m too knackered, too sleep deprived.” She laughs. “I didn’t know who I was anymore. But I wanted there to be a record that spoke to my joy and my pain and my thin-skinnedness like Joni Mitchell’s Blue spoke to female vulnerability around heartbreak. Not that I could write another Blue, but I knew I had to navigate the idea of writing about motherhood, especially as there’s a lot of shame tied around it.”
The lyrics of Jenny Lindfors, who records as Sailing Stones, is reminiscent of when time felt both stretched and condensed, fractured and endless, in those strange, distant years when one has recently created new life. In recent years, there have been many other albums about matrescence – the physical, psychological and emotional transition a woman goes through when becoming a mother – but don’t dismiss this as a trend. This is more a communal recognition – at long last – of an experience that affects more than half of human beings in so many mercurial, mind-bending ways.On these twelve psychedelic, poetic, panoramic songs, Lindfors ascribes each song to a different colour – feeding in her experiences of joy, dissociation, loneliness, rapture, desire and desperation. She produced these songs herself, set against haunting arrangements by her partner, composer Dan Moore. Some songs were recorded at home, others were given overdubs in a chapel-turned-studio in rural West Wales.