Form is a wonderful thing to behold. At the peak of its powers, it renders talent both divine and audacious, producing the seemingly impossible from the apparently effortless. It’s a cross-court drop shot that clings to the net. It’s every speculative gesture amounting to ecstasy. About twenty minutes into Have You in My Wilderness, it’s the sound of Julia Holter offering up whistling and sax solos back to back.
Matthew Neale 