Keepsake of the Week: “Hold That Spirit” by Raye Zaragoza

“Hold That Spirit” is the latest LP from singer/songwriter Raye Zaragoza and is this week’s #KOTW.

In this blog series, we post our favorite new or re-discovered releases in independent music, our Keepsake of the Week, or #KOTW.

What do you do when a storm blows through your life so suddenly that it flips you off course? This is the question looming through Raye Zaragoza’s third LP, and perhaps the record’s title is itself the answer: “Hold That Spirit.” Surprisingly joyful, intensely raw, and brave as always, this album should be quintessential listening for every human—but especially women—as they enter into a new decade or face incredible change. Raye did both when she wrote and recorded this record. She turned 30 and ended her recent engagement all within the span of months, but just like the rivers she has so often sung about, the storm poured into her and she turned it into power.

If her last album was grounded (the earth in “Run With the Wolves,” the desert in “Rebel Soul,” the river in “He Calls Me River” and “Red”), then this one soars. It’s easy to imagine Raye surrounded by foes—”the wolves that haunt the night” and the monsters, real as ever in the title track and re-defined from being her own body in “Not a Monster”—but holding on to the greatest weapon of all, her spirit, and fighting off every enemy. “I wanna stand on a hill / And sing at the top of my lungs,” she sings, softly at first, in the opening line of the first track, “Joy Revolution,” and it’s a promise she keeps for the rest of the album as she looks at her life from a bird’s eye view and decides to like what she sees. The monsters grow smaller from the sky and a new mantra is born: “Let that thunder roll.”

Opening what one may presume to be a break-up album with a song like “Joy Revolution” is one of the many courageous and refreshing choices that Raye makes here. Being joyful really does feel like a decision she makes: “I boldly declare / For once in my life I really don’t care / What anybody else thinks / Let ‘em all judge / I’m gonna join the joy revolution.” Raye is known for her anthemic protest songs like “Driving to Standing Rock” and “Fight Like a Girl,” but this is the first one that is just for her. A self-proclaimed perfectionist raised around theater and performance, Raye acknowledges how hard it is to let go and invites you to come along for the ride. The song wouldn’t be the same without co-writer and collaborator MILCK (who also joins on “Enough”), known for her single “Quiet” that went viral at the 2017 Women’s March. Their music video together is infectious, and as someone who has been directly influenced by both of these women—they each performed at the Show Yourself benefit residency we co-produced with Alex Wong last year—I can attest that their hearts are as big as they sound.

Protest anthems and big sounds continue with “Strong Woman” and “Still Here,” respectively. Something Raye does so naturally is invite the listener in, whether you join her dance party on “Joy Revolution” or she picks you up when you fall on “Still Here.” The track—along with fellow piano ballad “Bittersweet”—is one of Raye’s most impressive vocal performances, and it hits a little extra if you know her history. The song could be relevant to almost anything or anyone, including as a reminder to herself that her life has meaning after loss. Some hidden references, though, like the river and the drums, may remind you that Raye is always singing to her ancestors. Raye is of Akimel O’otham descent with Japanese and Mexican ethnicity, and her Indigenous community is one of the strongest constants in her life. Listen again, and it becomes impossible not to envision the generations of Indigenous peoples Raye is honoring in “Still Here,” giving voice to all those who are gone as well as those who remain but are too often ignored.

“Romantic Thing #248” played live by Raye in Show Yourself: A Benefit Residency produced by Keepsake House & Alex Wong at Rockwood Music Hall on May 9, 2022. Video by Justin Onne.

Indigenous history is ever-present in Raye’s work, as she reminds us of the “sacred, stolen ground” we live on in “Garden,” my favorite track on the record. Once again, Raye faces a foe head on (“Face it, we’re getting older”), but this time it’s her own dreams. Childhood expectations are challenged as Raye grapples with where she is now, in both her personal and professional life. She sings, “Don’t take the dream so seriously / It was written by the 1990s version of me / Who thought you had to have it all by 33 / The man, the plan, the house, with a skylight and a garden.” As our generation grows older but many of us have yet to make the money or family that our parents did at our age, we all have to grapple with visions and meaning. It’s comforting to hear Raye remind us all not to take these things too seriously and to remember what’s truly fulfilling, from making paper skyscrapers or going to Chinatown with her mom. 

The song, in both its lyrical meaning and musical simplicity (it’s just Raye and her guitar with some layered vocals, and that’s all it needs), reminds me of Lori McKenna, who writes about aging with brutal honesty but also admiration for her current and future selves: “The old woman in me thinks I look good in these jeans [...] She's proud of the life she lived, says it made her the woman she is.” I say that Raye’s album is especially necessary for women not just because of songs that speak directly to us like “Strong Woman,” but also because of the enhanced pressures women feel as they age, from puberty to long after menopause. Thank goodness for songs like “Garden” and Lori’s “The Old Woman In Me” that throw societal expectations out the window, and check out our playlist Growing like Gardens for more songs by women embracing themselves at every age.

The revolution (and monsters) returns in another feminist anthem, “Sweetheart,” which features the fastest, catchiest rhythm and groove on the record before leading into standout track, “Heavy Hearts Club.” This song is as relatable as “Garden,” with Raye opening up about her anxiety and asking, “Am I the only one in the heavy hearts club?” But this time, she already knows the answer and ends with it: “I’m not the only one in the heavy hearts club.” 

Strength comes from support, and while Raye knows that she has both, they also both require acceptance… in asking for help, or in making a difficult decision that you know is for the best. In “Bittersweet,” Raye finally addresses her break-up, and is more honest here than I thought possible. “I knew it in my bones / The day would come when I’d break your heart,” she sings, back at the piano, sending shivers down your spine. The song builds like any good ballad, hitting “a high that can hurt,” because when you soar, you have to know you might fall.

Luckily, Raye has learned to accept the grief and ask for help. Just as she picked us all up in “Still Here,” she ends this eagle of an album with one simple question, written during the pandemic but just as relevant following her break-up: “When this shit is over / Do you want to go away with me?” And for the first time on this album, the desert returns when Raye suggests we go to Arizona. It’s that desert, and that invitation to join Raye as she chooses to let go and find joy, that we see in the album’s cover art. “When this shit is over / Do you want to fall in love with me?” is the record’s closing line, and it is as much a question for us as it is for Raye. “Hold That Spirit” is Raye’s best work yet, and it doesn’t come from us—or anyone else—loving her. It comes from her loving herself. It comes from her joy, her acceptance, and her voice, at the top of her lungs, louder and more powerful than thunder.

Stream “Hold That Spirit” now, support Raye Zaragoza on Patreon, and see her perform live at Joe’s Pub on Thursday, October 12.

Raye Zaragoza in Death Valley. Taken by Bolora Munkhold.