Album Review: Already Everywhere by Days of Lavender
The Vancouver duo finds room to breathe and let go on their first full‑length. They lean into a more expansive palette without abandoning the intimacy that drew listeners to their early EPs.
Days of Lavender have always been as much about intention as sound. Stephen Clarke and Daniela Gunn‑Doerge met in the spring of 2021 and quickly entwined their work as wellness practitioners with their love of electronic music. Their mission, as they later described it, is to create multi‑disciplinary experiences that bridge creativity and healing. By the time they started hosting their InnerSpace series in 2022, the pair had turned nights of breathwork, yoga, and sound baths into communal rituals that culminated in their own live music. That blend of ceremony and pop spilled into Mary’s Garden, a 2023 EP dedicated to Clarke’s grandmother; her art‑filled backyard inspired its title track. The EP deepened their performative storytelling and, according to a contemporary bio, the duo spent the next year refining an uplifting soulful electronic sound that blends 80s synth-pop, gospel, and cinematic textures.
Where their meditative shows once took place in galleries and yoga studios, in 2025, Days of Lavender hosted retreats on Salt Spring Island featuring breathwork, ecstatic dance, and sound journeys. The shift didn’t mean abandoning pop. Rather, it clarified their desire to make music that heals. In interviews, the duo has talked about their sound over the past three years, which conveys “our desire for a more loving, accepting, connected world,” with songs that invite listeners to tap into “deeper unseen parts of ourselves seeking liberation.” The forthcoming album, Already Everywhere, took two years to craft and brings in friends like Des Hume, Forrest Mortifee, Jonah Ocean, and others. For all the collaborators, the record remains anchored in Clarke’s warm synths and bass and in Gunn‑Doerge’s voice—a precise, slightly tremulous instrument shaped by years of leading yoga classes and ambient meditations.
Putting on Already Everywhere feels less like pressing play on a debut and more like joining a familiar ritual. The opening songs are full of searching questions. On “Divine Intention,” Gunn‑Doerge sings, almost as a whisper over a heartbeat‑soft drum, “Hey love, listen to that part of you that wants you to be real and new… When grief comes running through.” Her melody steps around Clarke’s bass notes like someone treading quietly in a sacred space. “I can see through all the noise like I am the loving core at the start of it all,” repeats until it settles into your bones. “I don’t wanna blame you for the parts of me I’ve lost, I just want to help us return to the heart of it all” are guileless; in lesser hands, they might come off as new‑age cliché, but the duo delivers them with such earnestness that the repetition functions as meditation rather than autopilot. Forrest Mortifee’s feature adds a grounding counter‑melody. He doesn’t steal the spotlight so much as widen the track’s horizon.
“The View” turns outward. Over a loping groove and shimmering pads, Gunn‑Doerge asks, “Are you living in a place that’s true? Are you living from a place that fills you?” The way she phrases “looking out beyond yourself to see the view?” suggests both a literal gaze and a spiritual one. As the track went out, the song grew not louder but more spacious, with synth strings swelling like light in a vaulted hall. There’s a lovely middle section where her voice becomes a percussive instrument, repeating “Not what you thought/Just what you needed… Grew a forest from a seed on the wind.” The hook could have been trimmed, but its extended run invites the listener to sit with the question.
The duo’s wellness background seeps into the interludes. “Pause” isn’t so much a song as a spoken‑word meditation where Gunn‑Doerge promises to “sit with you no matter how long it takes” and urges to “go deeper, think deeper, dig deeper” and “move through, give space.” The track is set over soft chords and the faint sound of inhalations and exhalations—elements familiar to anyone who’s attended a sound bath. It’s earnest, and the sentiment might strike some as naive, but the sincerity is disarming. Even when the words risk veering into affirmation‑speak, the music’s tactility keeps you grounded.
“Once a Week” is built around the charming idea of falling in love regularly; Gunn‑Doerge sings, “Can you fall in love once a week/Illuminate what’s us underneath/It’s a work of art, do you see the heart in all of it?” The verse imagery (“Hour glass is glowing with each week I’m knowing”) is poetic, but the melody sits on one note for long stretches, and it goes on without much development. Similarly, “All There Is,” built around a lyric that encourages to “take a break, taking some space from your mind… You’ll be fine in time, offers wise advice but leans heavily on a single hook. The track could have benefited from stronger harmonic movement or a bridge to justify its length.
The album hits a stride again on “Pray to.” Over hushed pads and a minimal beat, Gunn‑Doerge confesses, “I know there’s something else, I’ll find a way to know its face… Give me something I can pray to.” The line is delivered with a hint of desperation, and when she admits “I close my eyes but I don’t hide from the darkness spaces in my mind,” the song becomes one of the record’s rawest moments. Clarke’s production matches the vulnerability; a single synth line ripples like water and, when he finally introduces a muffled kick, it feels like a pulse returning.
What makes Already Everywhere work, despite a few clunky metaphors and occasional mid‑tempo drift, is how clearly it comes from lived practice. Clarke and Gunn‑Doerge aren’t borrowing wellness imagery for aesthetics. They’ve spent years facilitating meditations and retreats, guiding people through breath and sound. That context shows up in the record’s pacing—songs linger and repeat, inviting you to sit with their themes instead of scanning for a hook. Their blend of 80s‑inflected synth pop, gospel‑tinged harmonies, and ambient textures is confident and tactile. Gunn‑Doerge’s voice, often hovering just above a whisper, feels like light filtering through leaves. Clarke’s bass and drums pulse like a steady heartbeat. The collaborators are wisely deployed—Mortifee’s vocals add depth without distraction, and Des Hume’s production flourishes show up subtly in the shimmering synths. It’s not a perfect record, but it’s a generous one, and it suggests that Days of Lavender’s solid work might lie not on a stage but in the spaces they create for people to come together.
Solid (★★★½☆)
Favorite Track(s): “Divine Intention,” “Pray to,” “Already Everywhere”