★★★★☆

Clara Mann returns with her follow-up album, ‘Wishbone’, which shifts towards greater emotional contrast and a focus on imagining happiness. 'Stripped back' is an overused phrase when describing acoustic music, but on Mann’s 2025 debut album, ‘Rift’, the soundscape is so pared back that it was almost possible to hear each guitar string ring out and even the character of the room. That soft restraint added to the dark emotional shadows of the record. The sense of isolation and introspection on ‘Rift’ defined Mann’s sound, so how will casting more light change its atmosphere and impact?

Across the eleven tracks, it is immediately obvious that ‘Wishbone’ retains one constant from its predecessor: Mann’s voice remains the most powerful instrument, given prominence in the mix. Comparisons have been made between Mann and Fiona Apple, and there are some similarities in the way both singers are able to draw the listener into their stories. Whereas Apple conveys more theatrical tension, Mann’s vocals have more clarity and intimacy. This doesn't mean she lacks range: her voice moves from the deep richness of Joni Mitchell to the sparkling, ethereal registers that recall Hope Sandoval.  Those qualities draw the listener into the lyrics while the brightness of Mann’s upper register brings luminosity to the dark corners. 

One strength of the album is how it achieves the transition from ‘Rift’. Opening with the gentle strums of ‘Fortuna’ provides a natural bridge between the loneliness of the debut record and the hope of ‘Wishbone’. The lyric “Now that I only see colours I’ll forget your shape. Blue is all I can remember…” captures the tonal shift: the memory of someone fades, but the singer’s world is becoming more vivid. There are also subtle changes in the sound: the guitar sounds brighter, while the strings create a greater sense of light and space.

Musically, the more expansive arrangement conveys the more optimistic mood of the album. The slow finger-picked guitar of her debut has evolved into occasional breezier strumming, while the piano is less mournful and takes on a jazz style on some tracks.  The folky undertones of 'Rift' remain, but the greater use of strings and steady snare beats on some tracks give ‘Wishbone’ that atmosphere of a smoky jazz bar.

‘Go Getter’ is the closest the album gets to pop with its broad range of instruments and buoyant chorus. The song was born after Mann cancelled a show and a conversation with a friend gave her a sense of perspective and hope: “I remember you saying / I’m a real go-getter / And everything that I lose comes back around”.  The song starts with sullen, soft vocals over an acoustic guitar and piano before the brightness arrives, with the double bass and viola adding momentum to the uplifting chorus.

The title track, ‘Wishbone’, clearly shows the luminosity Mann brings to this album.  While many songs may sit still, this track has a rolling, syncopated pulse that gives it a light bossa inflection, lifting the emotional impact of the vocals. The song feels warmer and more colourful, matching the lyrics about falling in love: “I wanna put on your clothes / Wanna wear you to work every morning.” 

The more upbeat, spacious soundscape continues on the country-tinged ‘I’m Everyone Who’s Ever Said I Love You.’ Its finger-picked guitar gives it a contemporary folk character, while the lyrics introduce playful irony that seems a world away from the more sombre mood of her previous work. Mann cautiously sings “Like everyone who has ever said I love you, I bleed,” but as the song reaches its crescendo, she leans into the more positive vibe of the album: “If I am everyone who’s ever said I love you, then loving you is the only thing I need.”

For the most part, the musical expansion is subtle. Mann has widened her sonic palette rather than abandoning what defines her, and the result is more than simply a brighter arrangement of similar songs.  The change is in the more playful lyrics, the broader range of instruments and more assured vocal delivery.

‘News From Home’, ‘All My Devotion’ and ‘Connie’s Song’ stick closer to the sparser folk fans already know and love, demonstrating that this isn't an album of reinvention. Instead the changes are subtle: the addition of a string arrangement, a nuanced rhythmic motif or a vocal inflection to change the emotional mood of a line. Throughout, a gentle sense of hope remains. Mann whispers, as the strings swirl, on ‘Song For Joy’, “Sure as the water flows over the dam / Good things will find me wherever I am.’ 

‘Oblivion’ is the most stripped-back song on the album, using only guitar and viola. It's a mournful procession of a track, with Mann singing in her hushed trademark tones. Yet, rather than employ the instruments as a backdrop, as on earlier tracks, here they ebb and flow – actors in the story Mann wishes to convey. The track is particularly powerful because the album’s wider palette makes its shadows feel darker. ‘Oblivion’ is the darkness that exists as the flipside of falling in love, the fear of losing what you have. In a collection of hope and finding happiness, it acts as a melancholic reminder: “Oblivion is inside of me, tapping on the glass. / Guess I always knew you’d come around.”

The title of the album was born from the conflict of hope and ruin that exists in performance artist Marina Abramović’s ‘Rest Energy’, where the artist and her partner hold a loaded bow and arrow between their bodies. It is a fitting metaphor for the risky business of trusting in happiness and for the album itself. Hope brings the luminosity and the brightness that separates ‘Wishbone’ from ‘Rift’, but the darkness still exists in the shadows. 

Like ‘Rift’ before it, ‘Wishbone’ is an album that deserves attention and rewards careful listening to appreciate its depth. But where ‘Rift’ drew its strength from its restraint, ‘Wishbone’ finds new possibilities in movement, colour and space. The shutters have been cracked open, allowing light to flood in and give more room to breathe. To do this without losing the intimacy of the debut album is akin to holding the loaded bow between songwriter and producer; on ‘Wishbone’, that balance is maintained beautifully.  As Mann sings on ‘News from Home’, “I’ll know a good thing when it comes.”—a line that could apply equally well to her sophomore album.