By Grace Koennecke, Managing Editor

My sophomore year of college, I became completely obsessed with Snail Mail’s 2021 sophomore album, Valentine. The band, fronted by lead singer Lindsey Jordan, was on a relatively good high after the release of their debut album from 2018, titled Lush, but its follow-up in my opinion solidified Jordan as a songwriter to watch. 

I think I gravitated toward this album so much not only because of Jordan’s writing, but also her vulnerability. An album focused mostly on heartbreak and grief, Valentine is brutally honest, sensual and a darker palette of sounds compared to Lush, and that’s what makes it so fun to listen to even four years later. Also, it’s the perfect album to listen to as winter bleeds into spring, so it’s only right I talk about it now as the seasons finally change for my love letter this week.

Read more: A Love Letter to Melodrama by Lorde

Speaking of seasons changing, I argue this album’s motif is change, as Jordan discusses the changes one endures after a breakup. Whether it’s trying to transition from being with someone all the time to being completely alone, or escaping codependency, Snail Mail knows change isn’t linear, nor is it ever bearable at times. Jordan also grapples with loss, knowing that with change comes losing someone or something along the way sometimes, and how painful that loss can be.

The opening of the album through its title track touches on the initial sting that comes from a breakup, with Jordan wondering why she’s so easy to be erased. She shouts, “So why’d you wanna erase me? Darling, valentine / You’ll always know where to find me / When you change your mind,” and the pain in her voice is a reflection of her inner thoughts: confused, angry and somewhat hopeful. This opening song is also important because it sets up the rest of the album, as Jordan is seemingly taking us through the processing of emotions that comes with getting over a breakup.

“Ben Franklin” is one of the many peaks on this record, and honestly is one of Jordan’s best songs to date, because it is so bitter yet so cool. The swagger Jordan has in her vocal delivery makes me want to be her, and I think it’s a great display of her confidence and cockiness, especially through the lens of seeing her as a love interest. The lyrics are also captivating, with some of my favorites being, “Sucker for the pain, huh, honey? / But you said you’d die / You wanna leave a stain / Like a relapse does when you really tried / And damn, this time, I really tried” and “I deserve it, I’m crazy / But don’t act like you’ve never met me.”

While Jordan talks heavily about heartbreak, she also suggests her struggles with addiction, pairing this time in her life with the darkness that came with being in rehab. “Ben Franklin” touches on this experience briefly, but it’s another poignant layer to Valentine, as Jordan doesn’t shy away from being open with listeners.

Next comes “Headlock,” a song about feeling lost post-breakup. Jordan doesn’t understand how her last partner moved on so quickly, finding frustration and betrayal in hearing about their new relationship. It’s a more mellow song on the album compared to the grunginess of “Valentine” and “Ben Franklin,” but I think its tone is one of the more striking songs on the album because of how melancholy Jordan’s vocals are. She sings, “When did you start seeing her? / Guess somebody finally tamed you / Never seen you look so sure,” and every time I hear these lyrics, it feels like a piece of glass is being stabbed into my heart repeatedly. It’s a beautifully raw moment on the album, and I think Snail Mail nailed the nostalgia that comes with thinking of past loving relationships.

Another song I love is actually the only love song found on Valentine, which is “Light Blue.” Completely stripped down to just Jordan’s voice and an acoustic guitar, she recalls being in love in her teenage years: “First time I met you, I knew then / Afterwards there’d be no in-between / We sail the ocean blue / Or just lie down, you know how I love you / Nothing’s gonna stop me now.” It’s one of the lighter songs on the album, and it really is the perfect love song for when you’re actually in love, so take notes!

Snail Mail does a fantastic job on breaking out of their indie-rock shell on the following track, “Forever (Sailing).” Combining sounds from genres like pop, jazz, and even R&B, this song feels like a departure, and a possible new sonic avenue, for the band. With its central theme about infidelity and the abruptness of it, Jordan still yearns for her past lover, obsessed with the future they were supposed to have. She sings, “Doesn’t obsession just become me? / Don’t let ‘em see, we don’t owe it to nobody / No matter where we are, I love you from the city to the stars / But nothin’ stays as good as how it starts,” and these lines show how Jordan doesn’t give up easily on love, even if it proves to be unfaithful.  

One of my personal favorites from Valentine is “Glory,” a song more focused on how control plays a role in a relationship. Jordan struggles to be independent with the person she focuses this song on, wanting to rid herself of their toxicity but knowing she can’t because of how much she loves them. She says, “You owe me / You own me / I could never hurt you, my love / You know me” admitting that this person inflicted pain on them through exposing Jordan to bad influences. This includes substances, with Jordan not wanting to admit how hurt she is in order to hold onto this person: “When it gets cold, we’ll move to Malibu / Where the drinks are hard, you make them go down smooth / You wanna make it hurt, superstar / When you took too much in your bedroom.”

“Automate” is another intense moment on this album that really epitomizes Jordan’s pain that the album slowly guides us toward, but this song sees an abrupt change in tone. Imitating the slaps through violently hitting a guitar, the production on this song is very dark and stressed, while the lyrics are even more devastating. Opening up about her use of alcohol to cope with heartbreak, Jordan sings – “One more drink ‘til I can feel you / And when the party’s empty, we can slow dance in my room / Tried life without you, but you in that green sweater / I could die if I had the guts, puked it up, drank too much / Feed the flame forever” – these lyrics explore her mental decline in a way that makes it the most vulnerable song on Valentine. 

Sadly, change is inevitable and so is heartbreak, and Snail Mail’s Valentine is the perfect album to listen to when you feel stuck and confused. Whether you’re reeling from a recent breakup or are not fond of change, this album is comforting and relatable, making it a triumphant mark in the band’s discography. I love listening to this album in my early 20s because its diaristic nature is what makes it so good and so sad but so worth it every time.

Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/album/0zNWhYDalgisc4uweLIGZJ?si=eQc82-wsQW6ZiaTWU2X5ow