Wisp
If Not Winter
MUSIC SOUP/INTERSCOPE
A lot has been made of the TikTok shoegaze revival: enthusiasm, mistrust, analysis, lip syncs. “Nu-gaze” has its zealots and its detractors, but few are as big a success story for the trend as Wisp, the project of San Francisco–based musician Natalie Lu. From its beginnings, Wisp has been in conversation with social media. Lu went viral on TikTok for her single “Your Face” before the act even had a name, which she later picked out of suggestions in an Instagram comment section. The song is a beloved “audio,” projected as a soundtrack onto scores of incidents from posters’ lives and desired vibes.
In 2024, Wisp released the EP Pandora, where she kept experimenting with the wafting vocals and layers of guitars that have become her signature. This year, she was one of few acts to actually perform at Bonnaroo, with a set that impressed—and now, she’s finally releasing her debut album. Texturally, If Not Winter leans into the “pop” side of dream pop, exploring the double-edged sword of yearning with big builds and a combination of delicacy and pummeling sound that fans of Mazzy Star will find familiar. The title comes from Sappho, and also names a recent Anne Carson translation (“if not, winter ] no pain ]] I bid you sing”). Lu has built a lush world here, with support from Elliott Kozel, aldn, Gabe Greenland, Photographic Memory’s Max Epstein, Stint’s Ajay Bhattacharyya, and fellow nu-gazer grayskies.
Shoegaze is expressionistic, something that might be part of its skyrocket through the camera lens. My Bloody Valentine keep their lyrics hazy and focus on emotional resonance, and there’s a whole genre of memes about Cocteau Twins not really having traditional “lyrics.” On If Not Winter, Lu imbibes that expressionism with metaphors that are disarmingly and phantasmagorically specific: peeling layers of skin on the title track, the cold gods on “Black Swan,” the vampiric desire on “Breathe Onto Me,” pleas to “hang me up in your closet” on “Sword.” Both the album and its online ephemera are immersed in dark fantasy, à la Labyrinth and The Last Unicorn. She also nods to her heroes in Whirr and dovetailingly trendy nu-metal, something that’s echoed in Wisp’s upcoming tour dates with Deftones and System of a Down.
There are times on the record when her own perspective gets a little lost in the fog, and the direction gets less clear. But Lu’s devotional, dissociative lyrics are standout—fitting homages to a genre that often depicts love as dissolution, and a poetic evolution for her own writing. “Save Me Now” even calls back to “Your Face,” as Lu whispers, “Give me just one day” over climbing chords. On “Guide Light,” there’s an absolutely dreamy push and pull. The track’s vocals and waves of noise flow into each other like tides, leaving room for metaphor, distortion, and even the alien warble of a theremin. In moments like that, when the balance evens, the album’s vision is vivid—a compelling offering, and a scry into the future of where she might go next.
