ZZ Ward has always been kind of a blues artist, but she’s also kind of been a rock artist and kind of a pop artist all throughout her career. As of now, well, that’s over… because Liberation is the sound of ZZ Ward finally giving up on trying to be palatable and instead deciding to make the most ZZ Ward album possible. And guess what? It absolutely rules.
This is a 14-track masterclass on what happens when you stop caring about industry nonsense and just make the album you were always meant to make. ZZ Ward has been flirting with this sound her entire career, but now she’s fully leaning into her blues influences, stuff like Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Etta James, the whole gang. This is all while throwing in a healthy dose of garage rock, swampy, foot-stomping attitude, and some of the best damn percussion you’ve heard all year. Every drum hit on this album feels like a warning shot, every kick drum like a challenge. And it’s all mic-ed so well.
It’s blues, but blues that could fight you in the parking lot. And is all the cooler for it.
So, the catalyst for this album? Motherhood. Because as it turns out, having a baby while being a touring musician is kind of a lot. Rather than pretending everything is fine and churning out another slick, label-friendly blues-rock album, ZZ Ward wrote about what she was actually going through: sleep deprivation, self-doubt, exhaustion, and the constant chaos of balancing art and family.
And because life is messy, Liberation is messy in the best way possible. There are stripped-down acoustic blues numbers where you can practically hear the dust settling into the cracks of the guitar. There are soulful, heart-wrenching ballads that make you want to dramatically stare out of a rainy window. And then there are absolute bangers that sound like someone resurrected a 1950s blues guitarist, handed them an amp that goes to 11, and told them to make something that would scare a record executive.
On a personal note, I’d say this album is the answer to the question: what if Alabama Shakes’ Brittany Howard and Elle King had a lovechild raised on old blues records and dive bar stages, Liberation would most likely be its battle cry. The same raw energy that made Sound & Color an instant classic and Love Stuff a whiskey-soaked anthem runs through this album, but with ZZ Ward’s own signature grit.
Also, let’s take a second to appreciate her voice because, somehow, it’s better than ever. She’s always been a powerhouse, but here? It’s richer, more seasoned, dripping with the kind of confidence that only comes from life handing you a few good beatings and you deciding to fight back anyway.
“Love Alive” kicks things off like a sermon at a backwoods blues revival, all handclaps, hollering, killer percussion, and a chorus that somehow hits you in the chest even if you have no idea what it’s about yet. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to kick down a door and make a bad decision.
“Naked in the Jungle” is basically what would happen if Creedence Clearwater Revival wrote a song about how completely unhinged it is to be responsible for a tiny human who doesn’t understand the concept of sleep. It’s bluesy, it’s sweaty, it’s a little bit chaotic, kind of like actual motherhood. The drum groove alone feels like it was made by someone running on four hours of sleep and pure adrenaline, which is frankly very fitting.
Then there’s Liberation, the title track, which is the emotional gut punch of the album. If ZZ Ward was holding back before, this is where she rips off the safety net, throws it into a fire, and belts out a song so raw and vulnerable it could easily be mistaken for a lost Etta James classic.
For years, ZZ Ward has been the kind of artist that people like but don’t quite know where to place. Too bluesy for mainstream pop, too rock for traditional blues, too female for the kind of sweaty dude blues-rock scene that lets people like Jack White and Dan Auerbach do whatever they want. But with Liberation, she’s stopped trying to fit into anyone else’s box and just gone for it. And the result? The best album of her career. Not to mention, proving once and for all that the genre is alive, kicking, and very much in the hands of artists willing to fight for it.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for publications in the US and former lead writer of Atop The Treehouse. Reviews music, film and TV shows for media aggregators.
