Ann Wilson - Fierce Bliss (LP)

Ann Wilson comes at you with a kind of hard-earned clarity on Fierce Bliss, the kind that only arrives after decades in the trenches. Released on April 29, 2022 through Silver Lining Music, it feels both ferocious and generous, a solo statement from a singer who helped define arena rock and still isn’t done stretching. The record kicks off with Greed, a simmering thumper that plays like a wake-up call. Wilson has said the song confronts how easily people get seduced by excess, and you can hear that theme coil around the arrangement. The guitars are thick, almost swampy, and her voice rides the top with that unmistakable power, bright but edged.

A Moment in Heaven is the earworm. It glides on a taut groove while Wilson cracks open the shiny myth of fame. The lyric reads like a veteran talking to newcomers, and it lands because she has lived it, from Heart’s 70s breakout through the MTV blast in the 80s. There’s a wink in the melody, a little bite in the delivery. It’s one of those tracks you replay because the hook is sweet, then you catch how unsparing the message is.

Fierce Bliss also tips its hat to the guitar gods. Her take on Robin Trower’s Bridge of Sighs is heavy and humid, paced just slow enough to let the song breathe. The playing curls around her phrasing rather than trying to out-muscle it, which is a sly move. Guests appear across the album, including Kenny Wayne Shepherd and Warren Haynes, and their fingerprints are there in the tone as much as the notes. There’s real conversation happening between voice and guitar, a respect for space that a lot of modern rock forgets.

Black Wing shows Wilson leaning into ballad mystique without losing voltage. The arrangement climbs and recedes, almost cinematic, and the vocal sits right in the pocket, clear and close. It’s a reminder that she can still drop the room to a hush with one line. Elsewhere she digs into the blues, pulls threads from soul, then snaps back to straight-ahead rock. That movement gives the record a lived-in feel, like a setlist that has been kicked around on stage until it flows.

Part of the charm is how grounded the production is. Nothing feels over-polished. The drums thud warm, the bass carries weight, and the guitars keep their grit. Wilson sounds like she’s in the same room, not drifting from some distant reverb cloud. It makes a difference on the quieter moments, when the storytelling comes forward and you start tracking the grain of her voice. There is no chasing trends here. She’s building a little world where classic textures still have teeth.

If you’ve been flipping through bins for Ann Wilson vinyl, this one belongs next to your favorite Heart records without ever echoing them too closely. Fierce Bliss vinyl pressings have a nice depth to the low end, and the guitars breathe in a way that flat digital files tend to flatten. That matters on songs like Greed and Bridge of Sighs, where the sustain and decay feel like extra band members. If you prefer to buy Ann Wilson records online, it’s an easy add to cart, but I liked seeing it pop up at a Melbourne record store on a recent trip. Feels right to discover a copy in the wild if you can. And if you’re building a shelf of Ann Wilson albums on vinyl, this one makes a strong case for the solo era standing tall on its own.

It’s also a reminder of why her voice remains a touchstone. Rock history is littered with singers who tried to match her range or power. Very few can sell a lyric like she does when the band pares back and the spotlight goes cold. Fierce Bliss gives her room to stretch, to snarl, to soften, sometimes inside the same song. That balance of muscle and nuance is the album’s quiet trick, and it’s what keeps pulling you back for another spin. If you’re in Australia and on the hunt through crates of vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out. This is the kind of record that rewards a clean needle, a little volume, and the patience to sit through the fade.