Various artists
Passages: Artists in Solidarity with Immigrants, Refugees, and Asylum Seekers
WESTERN VINYL
The best indicator of how well a society is faring is not, as commonly expounded by so-called experts, the economy or the stock market. Perhaps finance, tech, and crypto bros are raking it in, but that doesn’t have much—if any—bearing on how people are making do outside of those bubbles. A better, more accurate gauge is the number of GoFundMe campaigns and benefit albums shared across the course of a year. There have sadly been plenty of both in 2025, and while the latter aren’t exclusive to the US, they do help highlight just how much of a failed state the country is.
Passages: Artists in Solidarity with Immigrants, Refugees, and Asylum Seekers is yet another one, featuring 17 previously unreleased recordings from 17 artists, including Low’s Alan Sparhawk, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Benjamin Booker, Dirty Projectors, Tim Heidecker, Daniel Lopatin (a.k.a. Oneohtrix Point Never), and Lambchop. Put together by Austin-based record label Western Vinyl, all proceeds support two Texas organizations, American Gateways and Casa Marianella, that provide no-to-low-cost legal services, food, shelter, access to health care, and other essential services to immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers.
That in itself should be enough reason to pick up this comp. The fact that all 17 songs are, quite frankly, stunning is just the icing on the cake. All of these tracks are hushed and emotionally raw and vulnerable—all crafted with the idea of evoking a sense of home, whatever and wherever that may be, to highlight those whose own are at risk. The result is stirring and poignant, whether that’s the deep and intimate sadness and plaintive plea of Sparhawk’s “No More Darkness” or the hopeful helplessness of Y La Bamba’s “Wrong Crowd,” the tremulant vulnerability of Lonnie Holley’s “A Border Is Just a Space Between Two Lines” (just listen to the way his voice cracks and vibrates as he sings) or the soft lilt of Heather Woods Broderick’s “White Sage.”
Yet it feels unfair to single out particular songs. All of them work together in harmony to conjure up a sense of comfort that those with homes are lucky enough to enjoy. It’s surprisingly an incredibly cohesive listening experience, one that easily transcends the regimes and borders that precipitated its necessary existence. After all, art never exists in a vacuum. And while these songs were inspired by the effects of harmful policy, the heart at the center of them is a beautiful reminder of the power of humanity. As MLK put it so profoundly, the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. This compilation is that quote manifested in music.
