Julien Baker & Torres - Send a Prayer My Way
Julien Baker and Torres carve out a cinematic yet fleeting mark in the modern country landscape on their long-awaited collaborative album.
Back in 2016, when both were rising indie-rock stars already catching the industry’s attention, Julien Baker and Torres agreed to record a country album together. The genre was in a completely different place at the time—Morgan Wallen and Zach Bryan hadn’t overtaken the charts, Lana Del Rey hadn’t yet embraced country’s roots, and Kacey Musgraves and Beyoncé hadn’t walked away with Album of the Year at the Grammys. Nearly a decade later, the two rockers finally deliver on that promise. But instead of taking cues from the country's biggest stars, they pay tribute to a more alternative lineage of artists.
On Send A Prayer My Way, echoes of women who have shattered the country's traditionally masculine codes run through the record. At times, Baker and Torres channel Waxahatchee and Margo Price, while certain moments flirt with Dolly Parton’s territory. But this album isn’t built on mere imitation—the real magic comes from the seamless harmony between Baker and Torres. Their voices blend so naturally that by the time the record ends, it’s hard not to wonder why they haven’t sung together before.
That same chemistry, however, can become a stumbling block. Send A Prayer My Way often feels unsure of itself, uncertain of where it wants to go next. Some tracks sound unfinished—raw, like demo versions mistaken for final cuts. For a project that’s been in the works for nearly ten years, this roughness can feel like an Achilles’ heel. At times, the album stalls, like an old car sputtering mid-drive.
Take “Tuesday” or the delicate ballad “Dirt”. One moment, Baker and Torres seem like they’re here to have fun; the next, they play the part of outlaws. It’s reminiscent of rappers who brag about their firepower in songs, only to admit in interviews they don’t actually own a gun. There’s nothing wrong with indulging in playfulness—taking art too seriously can kill its spirit. But how, then, should we view Send A Prayer My Way?
On “The Only Marble I’ve Got Left”, Torres sings about being "stoned off my gourd"—it’s funny, even endearing, yet leaves a slight bitter aftertaste. Still, this record feels tailor-made for a certain kind of road movie moment—the protagonist pulling off the highway into a dive bar, stumbling into a karaoke night at the edge of town.
Country music has never been an easy space to break into. The themes are rigid, the room for reinvention narrow. That reality may have set up Send A Prayer My Way for failure before it even had a chance. Beyond Baker and Torres’ undeniable camaraderie, the album struggles to offer much else. It lacks the emotional breadth needed to become an alt-country classic and falls short of the riffs and hooks required to take over radio waves. But in the end, Send A Prayer My Way feels like something sweeter—a snapshot of two best friends messing around, unafraid to throw out ideas and just say yes.
6.5/10
Send a Prayer My Way is out April 18 via Matador.
