Jose Gonzalez - Vestiges & Claws (LP)

After nearly eight years of quiet between solo records, José González slipped back into view with Vestiges & Claws in February 2015, and it still feels like a small miracle. Third albums can be a crossroads, but he kept the compass steady, leaning into what he does best, then letting the details bloom. It is a self-produced set, mostly recorded at home in Gothenburg, that sounds intimate without being fragile, patient without drifting. You hear the room air around the nylon strings, the soft tap of fingers on wood, the layered hum of vocals that feel like a friend leaning in to share a thought.

He opens with With The Ink Of A Ghost, a careful unfurling of fingerpicking and low harmonies that sets the pace for the record’s slow-breathing confidence. The guitar tone is classic González, close-miked and rounded, but the arrangements carry more rhythmic heft than his early work. Let It Carry You rides handclaps and wordless vocals like a modest procession, turning a philosophical nudge into something quietly joyful. Then there is Leaf Off / The Cave, the closest the album gets to a singalong, built on claps, choral lifts and a melody that moves with a gentle sway. It is deceptively simple, all about the push and pull of humanist lyrics and pulse, as if he is trying to coax a whole room to loosen its shoulders.

Every Age is the thoughtful heart. Many first heard it through that unforgettable video that sent a camera on a weather balloon up into the stratosphere, a reminder that his music often feels like it has oxygen to spare. On record, the song’s patience is even more apparent, a meditation on time that never tips into grandstanding. Elsewhere, Stories We Build, Stories We Tell and What Will grapple with big-picture questions in plain language, reflecting González’s long-standing interest in science and scepticism. You can hear how he calibrates these ideas with touch and timbre, not lecture notes. Even the instrumental Vissel, a brief whistled drift, works like a deep breath between chapters.

The production choices are the quiet triumph. He tracked much of it himself and kept the palette economical, which lets those layered guitars sparkle in the upper mids while the bass thump of a thumb on strings acts like a heartbeat. No gimmicks, just subtle overdubs, small percussive loops, and backing vocals that feel carefully placed. It is music that rewards proper listening. On Vestiges & Claws vinyl, the space around the instruments opens up beautifully, and the soft transients of the nylon strings sit right in the pocket. If you collect José González vinyl, this one’s essential, right alongside Veneer and In Our Nature.

Critics heard it too. The record drew warm notices from places like The Guardian, Pitchfork and NPR, who tuned into its restraint and focus. Fans embraced it as a return to solo form after his time with Junip and his soundtrack detours. Live, these songs took on a communal shape, often arranged with more voices and percussion, but the studio versions keep a candlelit clarity that suits late evenings and early mornings.

There is a broader cultural appeal here that explains why copies keep walking out of the bins. The themes are timeless, the melodies hummable, and the playing is exquisite without fuss. That makes it a solid recommendation for anyone who wanders into a Melbourne record store asking for something quiet but not sleepy, or scrolls through vinyl records Australia pages hunting for a front-to-back listen. If you are looking to buy José González records online, start here, then circle back to the earlier albums on vinyl to see how this one refines his palette rather than replaces it.

Open Book closes the set like a low-lit epilogue, voice in front, guitar breathing underneath, a final turn of the wrist that lands gently. By then, the album has done its work, sketching a world with very few tools and no wasted gestures. Vestiges & Claws feels lived in, like conversations you keep having with yourself, and it proves that quiet music can still leave a mark. When someone asks for a record that will slow the room down, this is the one I pull, and on vinyl it feels even more like a home.