A reference to the Jungian idea of synchronicity, or "meaningful coincidences," Cosmic Wink is as much a reflection on inspired companionship as it is a rebirth. Jess Williamson fell deeply in love, and then her life was uprooted; She left Texas for California, leaving behind the roadworn verses of her previous two albums for brighter, bolder songwriting. It was this love and new location that inspired Cosmic Wink. Both musically and lyrically, the exploding postmodern spirit of California – and Los Angeles in particular – is infused in the DNA of Cosmic Wink.
The Byrds-ian jangle of opener "I See The White" airbrushes halos around the brain with an immortal pop hook. The brightest moment arrives on the broken wings of "White Bird," Williamson's dualistic testament of curiosity for an unknown coast with experience driving some uncertainty. Despite a generally warmer climate, Cosmic Wink doesn't abandon the brooding moods of its predecessor entirely. Those moments are acknowledged on new terms though, utilizing instrumental textures and shapes to create curious depth. The Rhodes-soaked "Wild Rain" begins with a ghostly air until a swell of synths gives way like the heavens parting. Concluding Cosmic Wink with "Love On the Piano," Williamson's new musical and lyrical mind declares "Love is my name now / Love, Darlin" over a revolving acoustic guitar line and lightly pressed upright piano notes.
Williamson's sophomore album Heart Song marked a dramatic departure from debut Native State, bristling beyond the confines of folk to question the comforts of home.On Cosmic Wink, her third album and first for Mexican Summer, Williamson emerges with another self part of an even wider consciousness. A self that bears wise evidence of past lives, but also feels new and unfamiliar, if at times from a different artist entirely.