Sitting and listening to Abbie Sawyer’s Persimmon was a blissful experience. It feels like frolicking on the first warm day of spring after a dreadful winter — fresh and bright, delightful despite the memory of the lingering cold. With 12 soul-stirring songs, the album blossoms with tenderness. It’s the kind of album that makes you long for open windows and fresh-cut flowers on your bedside table.
Album opener “Sunken Sailor” captures blind faith, which is clear through the first few lyrics, “Hurting, hoping and unknowing.” Sawyer’s voice is a dewdrop among the track’s delicate string instruments. Sawyer sings as if she coated each word with sugar before offering them; each note a ginger snap, bringing crisp brightness to the ears of listeners. Her tone holds clarity and warmth. However, her voice is not just pretty, it’s enchanting and holds true throughout the rest of the album.
The third track on the LP, “January,” embodies its title impeccably. Imagine the coldness of the month, the overwhelming mound of snow trapping you inside, emphasizing the need for comfort, warmth and love. Sawyer explores the highs and lows of the season, where love seems fleeting. The repeated line “Will you hold me?” echoes toward the end, a quiet yearning.
Love hangs in the air from the title track “Persimmon,” carried by Sawyer’s luxuriant lyrics, “I’ll be your persimmon / Will you be my macaroon?” It’s a tender line that lands just right. The lyrics are a sweet homage to the beautiful dance between lovers, full of charm and ritual.
Album standout “Empty Drawer” comes at the album’s tail end. Sawyer’s voice feels lightfooted and affectionate. There’s a playfulness in the way she romanticizes decluttering: “That’s why less is actually more.” It reminds listeners that not everything needs to be a grand gesture; there is beauty in everyday ease.
“Turn the Tide” closes the album with a final note, like reducing sugar after a spree of caramels. The sweetness doesn’t vanish or burn, it simply concentrates. There is clarity in Sawyer’s vocals about seeing the best in someone even when all your friends say otherwise.
“How’d I get here again, tangled in your web,” she sings — part confession and part expression of resentment, as if she’s reflecting on her once star-eyed decisions and finding the bitterness in it. It’s an honest closing track, one that finishes the album not with a cherry on top, but instead with an unexpected, yet satisfying garnish.
Persimmon was both tart and sweet. It’s the subtle scent of tulips blossoming during a bleak moment in one’s life. Each track feels hand-woven in careful precision. Whether she’s singing about longing, love or the bittersweet weight of regret, Sawyer carefully delivers each line with care. Her voice shines, urging listeners to go enjoy the richness of life, no matter the season.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s May 2025 issue.
