My Morning Jacket - The Waterfall II (LP) - Clear Vinyl

The Waterfall II arrived in July 2020 like a postcard lost in the post, sun-faded at the edges but still glowing. My Morning Jacket had always said there was more from the Stinson Beach sessions that birthed 2015’s The Waterfall. Here it is, recorded in 2013 and 2014 on the California coast and finally sequenced by Jim James in a way that felt right for the moment. It landed digitally on 10 July 2020 via ATO Records, with the The Waterfall II vinyl following a few weeks later, and it plays like a companion you didn’t realise you were missing.

You can hear the ocean in these songs. Not literally, but in the way the guitars drift and curl, and in the patient tides of the rhythm section. Spinning My Wheels opens with a weary, late-night hush. Bo Koster’s keys flicker like streetlights, Tom Blankenship’s bass moves with an easy sway, and James sounds caught between longing and acceptance. It signals the album’s mood right away, reflective but not resigned, and more intimate than the widescreen reach of its older sibling.

Feel You was the first taste before the release and it remains a highlight here. It glides on a soft groove, all warmth and wonder, with a melody that hugs you back. Carl Broemel’s guitar shimmers without getting showy, and the track blossoms into that classic Jacket float where everything breathes. If you’ve ever hunted for My Morning Jacket albums on vinyl, you’ll know how well this band’s sense of space and texture translates to wax. This is one of those cuts you want spinning on a Sunday afternoon, windows open, kettle on.

Climbing the Ladder is the flip side, scruffy and playful, like a porch jam that got just enough polish. Still Thinkin leans into a soul-flecked strut that would not have sounded out of place on a mid 70s FM dial. Then there’s Magic Bullet, first shared in 2016 in response to repeated scenes of violence in the US. Folded into the record, its plea for healing lands with extra weight. It is a reminder that these songs were written in one time and released into another, and that the feelings they carry have only deepened.

Run It and Wasted give the band room to stretch. Patrick Hallahan’s drums are both muscle and memory, and Broemel slips in lines that feel etched by sea air. Wasted builds from a quiet confessional into a sky-lifting surge, that move they do where melancholy turns into release. It is the kind of track that makes you wish you were hearing it in a room with strangers again. Close your eyes and you can almost picture the reverb bouncing off theatre walls.

The closer, The First Time, ties the bow with a soft ache. James has said he found new meaning in these songs while listening back during the long quiet of 2020, and you can hear why this one sits at the end. It looks back without getting stuck, and it nudges you forward without a lecture. If The Waterfall had the bright spark of renewal, Part II is the reflective dawn after a long night, the moment you breathe and check your pockets before heading out again.

There’s a small pleasure in how cohesive it all feels. Sequels often sag or scatter, but this record has its own character. The band lineup here is the classic five, and you can feel the trust in the way they leave space for one another. Nothing is rushed. Nothing is forced. It sounds lived-in, but not tired. For a set pulled from the same sessions as an older album, that’s no small feat.

If you’re the sort who still gets a little thrill from a fresh sleeve, this is a set to file next to the first instalment. The Waterfall II vinyl pressing sounds generous, and it sits nicely between Z’s psychedelic glow and Circuital’s earthy swing. If you’re crate digging at a Melbourne record store, or browsing for vinyl records Australia wide after dinner, this is the one you want to clock before it disappears again. And if you prefer to buy My Morning Jacket records online, it is an easy add to cart. My Morning Jacket vinyl just does something special in a lounge room at volume, and these songs earn that space.

It is tempting to call this an odds and ends collection, but it plays as a proper album with its own arc and weather. That is the joy here. A lost letter finally found, delivered at the right time, full of lines you’ll keep rereading.