LAURA VEIRS returns with Temple Songs, her first album in four years—and the first she has written,
recorded, arranged, produced, and performed entirely on her own. “I didn’t know if I would write songs
again,” says Veirs, who spent the intervening years building a backyard studio, getting married, blending
a family with four teenagers, deepening her visual art practice (painting), and expanding her music
teaching. “Turns out that period was a gathering phase. When I made the commitment to recording the
album myself, the muse caught me again and it came together very quickly.”

Written and recorded in three months in the fall of 2025 in Veirs’ backyard “Temple of Bloom” studio,
Temple Songs marks a new level of artistic independence. While 2022’s Found Light (co-produced by
Veirs and Shahzad Ismaily) was a declaration of autonomy, Temple Songs goes further: every creative
decision—what to record, how to record it, and how it should sound—was Veirs’ alone. Made with just two
mics and a laptop in a 10’ x 14′ room, the album feels unmistakably “Veirs-ian,” yet strikingly new.
Veirs embraced the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi throughout the process, choosing not to pitch-correct
vocals or edit out rough edges. “I wanted to make something that sounds as organic and human as
possible,” she says. Mixing by Philip Weinrobe (Adrienne Lenker) adds sympathetic finishing touches to
Veirs’ 14th solo album.

Because the Temple of Bloom wasn’t built for recording, the studio itself became a collaborator. Veirs
paused takes for rain on the skylight—or let it stay. She waited out neighbors’ conversations, raced to
finish a sensitive vocal before a stump grinder roared to life, and included the presence of resident
bluejays, passing crows, and other neighborhood sounds. These ambient intrusions lend the album an
intimate, lived-in authenticity.

Influences range from Mac DeMarco’s commitment to trusting his personal taste to the anarchists and
feminists of the late 1800s and their rallying cry, “no gods, no masters.” “It was hard to get the white man
off my shoulder,” Veirs says. “I wrestled with a lot of doubt. But there were many happy accidents and
eventually I found a flow—seeing the studio again, for the first time since my 20s, as a private place for
exploration.”

Clocking in at a concise 30 minutes, Temple Songs’ 11 tracks capture a songwriter in peak form. The
album is intimate, dreamy, brave and quietly defiant, built around Veirs’ intricate fingerstyle nylon-string
guitar, vulnerable vocals, and bold electric guitar embellishments. “Arc Still Bends” reflects feelings of
contemporary futility, offset by a hopeful chorus. “River’s Song,” an ode to one of Veirs’ children,
showcases her gift for simplicity and emotional precision. “Pulse” veers into art-experimental territory,
culminating in a cacophonous duet between electric guitar and sax. “No Masters” is a sparse, punk rock
call for collective self-determination, while “Sunlight and Doom” incorporates elemental fragments from
the ancient Greek lyricist Sappho.

Veirs played guitars, bass, drums, tambourine, percussion, and sings vocals; the only outside contribution
is saxophone by a secret special guest. She used no click tracks and no electronic instruments, working
by feel and intuition while watching bamboo sway outside her studio window. At 52, three decades into
her career, Veirs reconnects with herself through a radically new process—one that feels both fresh and
profoundly earned. She also designed the album’s calligraphy and paper-collage back cover art,
extending the project’s handmade ethos.

“I needed to make this to connect more deeply with my taste, aesthetics, and confidence,” says Veirs.
Longtime fans will recognize the core of Laura Veirs here—unfiltered and renewed—and new listeners
will discover an artist fully inhabiting her creative powers.

(Tickets will be $35 day of show.)