L.T. Leif’s (they/them) spirit is collaborative, generative, experimental, and kind. The band members and parameters of their project are ever-evolving, but, as Leif says: to the friendships and the moment we are grateful and stay true. Demoed in a room on Glasgow’s Great Western Road and built intercontinentally with contributions both remote and in-person from pals near and far, their new LP, Come Back to Me, but Lightly, is a magical collection of sensually sylvan songs about the body, loss as a decision and knowing your own desire as a radical act.
This album comes from a six-year long space of change, from a life I was living as someone afraid of my own brain and body, into someone a lot more openly unshiny. Painful and seeping. I think that distance and decisions and loss and conflict are all things that can birth you into a different kind of being.
Album opener, “Gentle Moon,” catapults the listener into outer-space, so that the whole record hangs like a burning, distant sun. Inspired by ‘60s crooners, it’s a long-distance love song written to Leif’s lockdown lover, a person who they changed their life to be able to see. Invoking both an acceptance of the distance and an unspoken longing for something different, “Gentle Moon” speaks to the push and pull of relationships – the elliptical and powerful movements of coming together and moving away again.