Deborah Holland’s new album is called I Made It This Far. Like all good titles, there are multiple connotations. Holland’s personal history is deep and varied: from folk to fusion, soundtrack scoring to production to student to teacher. She’s got her fingerprints on everything. But “this far” is developed as a concept here – something we can identify within our own journeys. It’s not a culmination, not an ending, but a resting point.

This album is mostly sunny with scattered clouds. Case in point: it’s a beautiful day in “East Porpoise Bay.” Holland draws a detailed portrait of the sky, the neighborhood, even a snoring dog – wait, where did that *snow* come from? Holland’s trademark humor is conversational; it sneaks in between sips of coffee. She’s a master of telling a story with little things you can pick up along the sidewalk. A gentle melody accents a message of patience, to keep looking for the uptick: Sometimes a terrible day turns sad & grey /Sometimes a terrible day gets beautiful…it’s just that way.

I have crush on the intro to “Unfinished Business” – a single guitar, a pulsing tension, then the launch of a beautiful voice: I want to fly away… I’m not even going to tell you. You know what unfinished business is. Just listen to the song. Just feel it.

As the music expands, so does our sense of the business in question: it’s not simple. The tension is beautifully uncomfortable. Can we really keep putting it off?

I have a fondness for atypical love songs – poems and pop hits are often retellings of unrequited crushes, anguished breakups, fawning adoration. “A Long Time Ago” is different: this is the story of a deep friendship distanced by someone else’s romantic decision. We’ve been there, too, yeah? I also have a fondness for good bridges, and so the lyric I choose to share with you is a piling on the bridge:

But if you decide to come in for a breather
No-one would blame you if you had to leave her, no

Let me take a moment to applaud the string arrangement of Adrian Dolan, who played violins and viola. Amy Laing is on cello. Acoustic bass by Brent Gubbels and acoustic guitar by Patterson Barrett round out this wistful arrangement.

“Everybody’s Drinking But Me” needs to be the anthem of a generation who grew up, grew sober, and found we’re still up all night thinking too much. Holland really captures that 3am solitude; it’s kind of fun to be able to think about it during normal daytime chores. This is a co-write with Dan Navarro, as is track 3: “Circling the Drain.” Navarro sings with Holland on both songs.

Track 9 is by far my favorite for nostalgic reasons: “September (the Saddest Month of the Year)” is a perfect homage to the old-school Detroit Motown of my childhood. As an October baby in Michigan, my season was this bittersweet one – there must be something wrong with me / I’ve an aversion to weather / the cold and I we don’t agree... This song shows you how you can feel sad and still need to get up and dance! This song would be over the top with a horn section, but it was the right decision, I think, not to use them. It might have been out of place with the rest of the collection.

“Wildfires” starts with Garth Bowen’s classic violin warning: we’re immediately alert. If you’ve seen annual wildfires,  you’ll feel as the song progresses the complex feeling of alarm, relief that it’s not too close yet, the terrible beauty of the flame. The lyrics address the complex politics of natural disasters: Too late, so who can we blame, then? 

“50 Year Reunions” is an elegant retrospective – I was a dreamer – that feels like a well-tailored, glittery dress, a flute of NA champagne in hand, an elegant walk through a paper-decorated high school gym, a float between old friends and frenemies – get off my lawn. As the final track of the album, it’s a soft landing: Time doesn’t fly, it just disappears.

…but it’s the title track, “Thankful,” that’s the earworm. The lyric which became the title is here: I made it this far / I didn’t die young. Holland’s long-time co-conspirator Wendy Waldman supplies harmonies, and you get your first taste of Patterson Barrett’s pedal steel. All the instrumentation on this album is exceptionally well-placed, leaning into professionalism but coming out creative in a way that makes me say, “Oh, yeah!” Deborah Holland can slide a hook into you before you realize what that’s what it was.

Bottom line: You might not like this album if you’re averse to quietly happy music. I Made It This Far has an impeccably clean production, tasteful arrangements, effective prosody, and lyrics like delicate lacework: pretty, but there’s something more to be discovered if you look closely. While this might be exactly what you’d expect of Deborah Holland, it’s still an absolute delight to find it right where you thought you would. I Made It This Far, like I said, implies a resting point. No telling what’s ahead, right?

Now I’m gonna go think about all I’ve got, not what I lack.

I Made It This Far is available n digital or on CD at Bandcamp. Stream it on Spotify or your favorite platform. Learn more about Deborah Holland at her website deborahholland.com and stand by for an interview in an upcoming FolkWorks.

debora Ewing writes, paints, and screams at the stars because the world is still screwed up. She improves what she can with music collaboration, peer-review at Consilience Poetry Journal, or designing books for Igneus Press. Follow @DebsValidation on X and Instagram. Read her self-distractions at FolkWorks.org and JerryJazzMusician.com.