Titanic Rising is a masterwork of analog-tinged soft rock that sounds like it was unearthed from a time capsule buried in 1971. The songs ache with a knowing melancholy, and the recording is so warm you can almost feel the tape hiss. Essential listening for anyone who believes production is part of the songwriting.
The first time I heard “Andromeda” through a properly calibrated system, I had to stop what I was doing and sit down. It wasn’t just the melody — it was the way the piano hung in the air, the way Natalie Mering’s voice seemed to breathe through the speakers. This is what happens when someone decides the recording itself is a part of the composition.
Jonathan Rado, who produced the album in Los Angeles, has a reputation for chasing the ghost of late-60s/early-70s studio craft. He and Mering tracked the basics live to two-inch tape at Electro-Vox Recording, a Hollywood haunt that still smells like old cigarettes and spilled coffee. John Congleton mixed the sessions, and he leaned hard into the saturation of the board, letting the tape machine’s natural compression glue the layers together. “We wanted the record to feel like a memory,” Mering said in one interview. They succeeded.
The rhythm section is organic and unhurried. Drummer Andy Stack (Wye Oak) plays with a gentle, swinging pocket on “Something to Believe,” and the bass guitar — played by Rado himself — is fat and round, never fighting for space. The string arrangements, written by Drew Erickson, are what truly separate Titanic Rising from its peers. They don’t decorate the songs; they are the songs, arriving on the downbeat of a phrase and carrying the emotional weight through to the next turn.
Listen to “Movies” on a pair of open headphones and you’ll hear something strange happening around the 1:28 mark — a faint, almost sub-audible harmonic that rings out from the piano’s sustain. That’s the sound of a room microphone catching the air move, a happy accident that Congleton kept in because it felt right. That philosophy runs through the whole album. Nothing is sterile. Nothing is corrected into oblivion.
The album’s cover art — Mering floating upside down inside a submerged bedroom — is a perfect visual analogue for the music inside. It’s dreamy, slightly disorienting, and achingly beautiful. The production does not shout. It whispers, and that whisper is worth leaning in for.
🎵 Key Takeaways
- Basics recorded live to two-inch tape at Electro-Vox Recording.
- Congleton used tape machine compression to glue layers.
- Andy Stack's drumming on 'Something to Believe' swings gently.
- String arrangements by Drew Erickson carry the songs' emotional weight.
- Faint harmonic at 1:28 in 'Movies' from piano sustain.
What gear did Weyes Blood use to record Titanic Rising?
The sessions relied on a vintage Neve console, an Ampex ATR-102 tape machine, and a collection of Neumann U67 and RCA 44 microphones. Natalie's vocal chain was a U67 into a Neve 1073 preamp with minimal compression.
Is Titanic Rising available on vinyl?
Yes, Sub Pop released a vinyl edition in 2019. The lacquers were cut from the original analog tape by Chris Bellman at Bernie Grundman Mastering, and the pressing is dead quiet — well worth the investment for analog enthusiasts.
What is the meaning behind the album title and cover?
The title 'Titanic Rising' plays on the dual meaning of the Titanic as a ship of dreams and a disaster. The submerged bedroom on the cover represents drifting nostalgia and the feeling of being submersed in memory — a central theme of the album's lyrics about change and loss.
Further Reading