Zandi Holup | Wildflower Review

by Shannon Smith

From the first song of Wildflower, Zandi Holup makes it clear she is here to bare her voice to tell stories in song. It’s a debut that feels like a set of songs that understands restraint is as powerful as release. Producer Ryan Hadlock frames her in warm sonic settings of Bear Creek Studios’ warm wood and Pacific Northwest stillness. The album’s mood leaving space for her to work her magic of instinct and craft. You hear her draw from the long tradition of country storytellers, a well of emotional honesty that makes vocal performances stay with you.

“All That’s Left Is Me” is the first seed in this garden, a medium-tempo strum that leans on Holup’s vibrated singing charm. There’s a dusky richness in her tone that invites the listener in close. “Dirty Wings” folds in dobro lines with Holup adding refined vocal accents in the pre-chorus. As a vocalist, the control in her dynamic shifts directs the emotional pacing of the lyric’s story.

She takes a more traditional country swing on “Go Find Less,” her voice riding the shuffle with ease. The title track, “Wildflower,” turns more intimate with acoustic instruments wrapping around her like old friends. Her phrasing here is conversational, with breath placement that lets the lyric’s imagery land without being oversold.

“Gas Station Flowers” is built with layers that bring emotional lift to the song. By the time the violin swells and the harmonies ghost in, Holup has us in that delicate place between nostalgia and ache. “Runs in the Family” plays with lyrics about generational habits.

With “Doing the Time,” Holup leans into the arc of the performance, building storytelling to an ending that brims with embellishments, tonal shifts, and coloristic choices. “Cowgirls Don’t Cry” sits in the lineage of folk-country balladry, her pitch and accent working in concert to create a timeless musical narrative.

The rhythmic play in “Mountain Man” shows Holup’s tone carrying the weight of every syllable in an emotive ballad. “Mary Jane” has multi-textured instrumentation and its backstory of addiction, recovery, and empathy. Holup’s singing puts trust in the lyric and lets the tone of her voice bear witness. And with “Things I’ll Never Forget,” she closes on a note of quiet resolve, the violin echoing in conversation.

Wildflower is a country album with dynamic contour through storytelling. It’s a reminder when to lean in and when to vanish. Zandi Holup’s first seed is well-planted. The garden she’s growing will be worth watching.