Emily Jane White is a musician, songwriter, and poet from Oakland, CA. She began performing under her own name in 2003 and released her first album “Dark Undercoat” in 2007. Rooted in a moment of catastrophe, Alluvion is an album about personal and collective grief resulting from the loss of human life and the continued loss of our natural world. We live in a moment of merging traumas, of converging environmental, social, and political crises. These crises are exacerbated by our lack of cultural practices for individual and also shared, public grieving–which is not without consequence. We often find ourselves mired in “disenfranchised grief,” a grieving that cannot be recognized, shared, or named. Emily’s album offers a space to consider where grieving is absent in our world, and where it is deeply necessary. Grief moves in waves and cycles, and through its flood we can build anew. Alluvion: the gradual addition to the land by the wash of water against a shore. How can we mourn what we cannot know we’ve lost? While living through the “sixth extinction,” we may not always perceive the mass death that surrounds us, even as we sometimes remain unconscious of pervasive violence against women, or racist police violence. Emily’s new album is an act of public grieving, grieving as breathing: breathing the space in which we might be able to gather up ourselves and move toward the wake of this disaster, the spark of what is yet to come. Produced and arranged by multi-instrumentalist Anton Patzner (Foxtails Brigade, Judgement Day), Alluvion was written and recorded during the height of the pandemic. Although Nick Ott’s drums and John Courage’s guitars were recorded in studios with all parties present, most of the instruments were recorded while Emily and Anton were in different locations. More so than on any previous release, Emily almost completely eschews folk arrangements and instrumentation. Alluvion edges the borders of shoegaze and electronic pop without losing sight of the light within the gloom, the hope inside the void.