Hilary Woods returns to singing after two instrumental albums and winds up making one of the best dream pop albums in years on Night CRIÚ.
Release date: October 31, 2025 | Sacred Bones Records | Website | Instagram | Bandcamp
Halloween came and went without much fanfare from me this year, although it is usually my favorite holiday. I’m not one for decorating or really going all out with a costume, but I love horror movies, autumn, and spooky season in general. October was a busy month in my personal life, and by the time the day rolled around, I was more in need of rest than anything else (plus some writing, of course). Halloween was also on a Friday this year, which meant another wave of great album releases. There was one album on that day that stood out above the rest and wound up being the perfect soundtrack for the day and my soul. That was Hilary Woods‘s Night CRIÚ.
My first foray into Hilary Woods was 2023’s Acts of Light, a haunting instrumental album that, more than Night CRIÚ, captures a sense of dread and foreboding. Acts of Light revels in eerie darkness and could easily soundtrack a paranormal horror film. After that I nabbed a cassette copy of 2021’s equally haunting instrumental drone EP, Feral Hymns. Somehow, I stopped there, accepting that Hilary Woods was an exceptional experimental composer that I would continue to follow. However, Woods started her solo career as a songstress. Her first two albums, Colt (2016) and Birthmarks (2020) showcase eerie ambience with dream pop and singer/songwriter qualities, contrasting sweetened melodies with her otherworldly instrumentation. Night CRIÚ, therefore, took me by surprise as she returns to more traditional song structures and singing.
“Voce” begins with droning strings, like pallbearers emerging from fog-shrouded moors, pretty close to what I was anticipating. Shortly, Woods’s voice comes in with a lovely, nursery rhyme kind of melody singing, ‘I can’t hear your voice/Don’t know what it feels like,‘ as a slow drum beat, synthesizer hums, and eventually a children’s choir joining in. The experience is so unexpected and beautiful that it sends chills through your nervous system. Best grab a sweater, because those chills aren’t going away until the record stops. Field recordings and a multitude of instruments work in tandem to provide an ever shifting atmosphere as Woods layers overdubs and effects onto her voice, leaning into dream pop’s melodic classicism for the first half of the album with stunning results.. I’m a sucker for dream pop, though sometimes bands start to sound formulaic, limiting themselves in several ways.
Hilary Woods has a meticulous eye for detail, however, giving each track a unique approach. “Brightly” features strings that swell dramatically, giving the feel of a gothic James Bond intro. This immediately followed by the folksy “Taper” whose campfire rhythm eventually welcomes the return of the children’s choir, once again leaving me slack-jawed with awe. Field recording-experimentalism returns on “Offerings”, serving as a chilling passage before the breathtaking “Shelter”, a heart-wrenching poem, a meditation on asking for help from others who seek shelter, melancholy strings, washes of noise, tender piano chords, and plenty of reverb ascending the song to a visceral experience rather than something you simply listen to.
Night CRIÚ‘s dense atmosphere and its sheer beauty reach into you, grasping for parts of you forgotten and pleading to triumph over life’s routines, conformities, and emotional weights. Hilary Woods creates a dense and wonderous forest, at times lavish and overwhelming, but as your ears begin to focus on each tree, a deeper, more profound sense of amazement emerges that few albums come close to inspiring. Woods has taken every element of her discography so far and layered them into a sound that surpasses all of the incredible work she has already done. Night CRIÚ is not only her best work, but among some of the best music this year. It was a happy Halloween, after all.
