With their third full-length release, The Vacant Stars Of Wandering Souls, 23 Fields step into a broader, more textured sonic landscape. The album marks a subtle but meaningful shift in direction—most notably through increased production depth and the expanded use of electric guitar, adding new weight and atmosphere to the project’s established folk-Americana foundation. At its core, this record is deeply personal. Step’s songwriting reflects not only on his own life but on the lives of those orbiting him—friends, family, passing figures, and shared memories. The result is an album that feels intimate without being insular. His lyrics continue to paint grounded, human scenes, while the melodies carry a comforting familiarity, like a conversation resumed after years apart.
The addition of electric textures broadens the emotional palette. Where earlier material may have leaned more heavily on acoustic warmth, The Vacant Stars Of Wandering Souls embraces mood and space. Guitars shimmer and swell, creating cinematic backdrops that evoke late-night drives and solitary reflection. On “Afrika Nitarudi,” the decision to step away from his own guitar adds a noticeable shift in perspective, allowing the arrangement to breathe differently and signaling a willingness to experiment. Thematically, the album circles around isolation, memory, and the quiet search for meaning in a world that can feel vast and impersonal. There’s a recurring sense of drifting—of wandering souls under wide, vacant skies—yet the music never feels hopeless. Instead, it suggests resilience: the belief that connection, even fleeting, still matters.
Production choices emphasize atmosphere over flash. Space is used deliberately, giving vocals room to carry emotional nuance. The arrangements build gradually, often favoring slow-burn development rather than immediate hooks. This makes the album particularly rewarding when experienced in sequence, as each track contributes to a cohesive emotional arc. What stands out most is sincerity. 23 Fields aren’t chasing trends; they’re documenting a phase of life. The album feels like a journal set to music—layered, reflective, occasionally heavy, but always searching. It’s a testament to the idea that creative evolution doesn’t require abandoning roots; it simply means expanding them. The Vacant Stars Of Wandering Souls ultimately invites listeners to pause. To reflect. To sit with the quiet questions that linger beneath daily noise. In doing so, 23 Fields offer not just songs, but space—space to wander, and perhaps, to find your way back.
English