This unplugged offering showcases her stunning 2021 ‘Goodnight, Lover’ EP,
stripped back and in complete, raw honesty. This gorgeous EP lives on and blesses us
once again with its sheer songwriting beauty
Produced by Wes Hutchinson (Grammy-nominiated/HBO/CBS), Goodnight, Lover (Stripped) puts Sweetlove’s twin devotions to her earthy pop and the people she loves on magnificent display. Written with Jay Stolar (Selena Gomez, Trevor Daniel, Aloe Blacc, G-Eazy, Demi Lovato), the title track nods to the bluesy swagger of Shelby Lynne as Sweetlove sings to a new lover, from a distance. Then, just one month later, David died––and Sweetlove’s world and the songs she would write, all changed.
Sweetlove says, “The events leading up to it, and the writing of these songs for this record changed my life. I’ve always put my full heart into my songs, but this record felt like it was made from pieces of my bones. I absolutely adore the original record, and always will, but when covid hit and everything ground to a stop, we decided to revisit all of these songs as they were written – with just me and an instrument. My good friend and producer Wes Hutchinson and I spent hours and days re-imagining each song so that the aching truth of each one rang out. After losing three people that I adored to mental illness all in one year, this album is an exploration of that grief, a journey of finding your way back … and a call for us to save each other by helping each other feel less alone. I’m really proud of this collection of songs, I hope it speaks to others too, and I hope it will open up new avenues of conversation around mental illness, supporting each other through it, and making effective resources more widely available.”
Arguably the only happy song on the EP, opener “Devil on Your Shoulder,” urges self-acceptance with heartwarming confidence. “It was a crazy, rainy day, and my co-writer Jay Stolar and I decided that we wanted to attempt to write something about being brave in honor of someone’s memory,” Sweetlove says. “It’s sounds so cliché to say it out loud, but when you lose people that you love so dearly, it makes you want to stop being afraid to live your life and embrace the parts of you that don’t want to do what they’re told, especially when you’re the one who’s been doing the telling.”
Subdued and pensive, “The House” layers warm, live guitar tracks under Sweetlove’s easy, out-front vocals conceding defeat. As a re-imagined piano ballad, “Did You Even Know” runs through the guilt ambiguity leaves behind. “After David died, I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs for months,” Sweetlove says. “Writing ended up being therapeutic––helped me process. Kept me from disintegrating.”
Searching and almost hopeful in the midst of wreckage, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” wishes for outrunning demons and time. Sweetlove wrote the song with Zach Berkman (Ron Pope). “I came into the write with Zach with the idea of wanting to send Matt off to someplace better,” she says. “Whatever happens after we pass, I do believe we aren’t our bodies. I believe he’s somewhere––I don’t know where. But I believe he’s at peace, at last.”
Swinging, sad, and slow, with an aching yet hopeful outtro, “Things I Didn’t Say” is a vocal showcase written about Sweetlove’s last time in Portland with David. “I wrote it about the feeling of wishing I’d done more,” Sweetlove says. “I didn’t know what was coming. I didn’t know David was dying. I look back now and think, ‘Oh. He was dying, all that time.’ This song is about the last time I saw him and what I didn’t say.
“This experience has really made me think about mental illness and mental anguish, things I’m not a stranger to myself,” Sweetlove continues. “One of the worst things about mental illness is it lies to you and tells you that you’re alone, or that people would be better off without you. David was a vet, and we lost him to suicide. It’s my understanding this happens about twenty-two times a day. That’s shameful. Matt had a hard time getting the help he needed. And Teddy (her cousin that she lost to alcoholism) had a whole family around him that loved him, but it wasn’t enough to save him. The system isn’t really set up to help people so they can live lives free of torment and with joy. It seems harder for men to ask for or get help. I don’t know if that’s true. But it seems harder.”
Listening to Goodnight, Lover, a truth emerges: Sweetlove isn’t merely working through her own hurt. She is singing these songs to the ones she still misses, addressing them with tenderness and love. She is interested in the potential of music therapy to assist others––from veterans with PTSD to those dealing with loss––and she hopes these songs can be a balm to anyone who hears them.
“I think David would be really happy to hear that I took this terrible thing and made something beautiful out of it––something that can touch others,” Sweetlove says, quietly. “I hope listeners take what they need from it to comfort themselves or maybe feel less alone.”