Loma Rediscover Synergy on How Will I Live Without a Body?
The Texas-born trio unveil a haunting, icy album that reaffirms their commitment to folksy ambient and jazz.

The music Loma makes is spatial. It’s not spacey; if anything, the Texas-born trio always sounds locked in. It’s not always spacious; it usually feels closely held, like a kitten or a secret. Vocalist Emily Cross’s spectral voice plus Dan Duszynski and Jonathan Meiburg’s careful drumming, guitar work and keystrokes are a recipe for immersive, evocative music that feels like an icy breeze. It emanates like vapor, leaving droplet impressions on every surface. Over two albums—2018’s Loma and 2020’s Don’t Shy Away—Duszynski and Cross, who once performed in a duo called Cross Record, and Meiburg (of Shearwater and Okkervil River fame) have exhibited uncanny chemistry producing haunting, oddly relaxing indie. Their third album, How Will I Live Without a Body?, is a snowy, self-assured listen, another understated installment in Loma’s life to date.
Historically, Loma’s sound has felt indebted to the rolling prairies surrounding Austin, where Duszynski maintains a recording studio free from the distractions of urban Texas. “Black Willow”—off their self-titled record—exudes this energy between vocals reminiscent of a dramatic chorus and strategic key flourishes over a no-nonsense drumbeat. The Loma of How Will I Live Without a Body? is similarly reserved, but with a flair less becoming of the sparse grasslands and more suited to an English forest: verdant and full, yes, but presenting a solitude all its own. Loma spread field recordings, synths, guitar, percussion, clarinet and more across 11 tracks with careful precision, refusing to let any song get too bombastic or celebratory. There is room to be pensive amidst the abundance, their gentle cycles of tension and release resembling the joy of collecting mini-breakthroughs over a lifetime.
On How Will I Live Without a Body?, Loma revisit their trademark avant garde-indebted mix of ambient, free jazz and alternative folk, with songs leaning more or less abstract in pivotal places. Opener “Please, Come In” presents one of Loma’s more forceful drumbeats—with interjecting keystrokes and mounting vocals that almost elevate the song towards conflagration, Loma toe that line without ceding all control. Birds close that track and help bring in “Arrhythmia,” a sleek, propulsive number supported by an Afro-Brazilian-German percussion ensemble’s hypnotic performance. “Unbraiding” is more dramatic, with the tap-tap-tap of the cymbals and injections of distortion mounting and cutting under Cross’s unbothered delivery.