Pisgah – Faultlines

Pisgah, the solo project of London-based American singer-songwriter Brittney Jenkins, announces the release of her second full-length album, Faultlines. Following her acclaimed 2022 debut Call Louder for Me When You Call, Faultlines represents a bold artistic leap forward, blending shimmering indie rock textures with deeply personal, emotionally unflinching songwriting.

Across eight tracks, Jenkins explores generational trauma, sexual assault, and personal liberation, balancing introspective lyricism with expansive sonic landscapes that range from euphoric electric guitar layers to stark minimalism. Influences as diverse as Julia Jacklin, Big Thief, Aimee Mann, and Jason Molina are interwoven with inspiration from visual art, thunderstorms over desert landscapes, and mythic resonance, creating an album that is both cinematic and deeply intimate.

Written and recorded in her home studio, and co-produced, mixed, and mastered by Dan Duszynski (Loma, Jess Williamson), Faultlines reflects Jenkins’ evolving vision, expanding her sonic palette while staying rooted in the emotional honesty that defines her work. The album cover, shot on the north shore of Utah’s Great Salt Lake, captures the duality of transformation through turbulence—a visual echo of the record’s themes.

1. Faultlines is described as a bold artistic leap forward from your debut. How did your creative process evolve between Call Louder for Me When You Call and this new album?

Shortly after I released Call Louder for Me When You Call, I had a series of family and personal crises happen at once and went into survival mode for months, which didn’t leave any headspace for music. It was a strange experience to put something out in the world only to be pulled so far away from it just after. This period of time led to a real crisis of faith for me as a musician, because subconsciously I think I linked releasing the album to all the things that followed, and that coupled with a lot of self-doubt and imposter syndrome led me to take a nearly three year break from anything musical. I swear there was an entire year that passed where I didn’t pick up my guitar once and I didn’t know if I’d ever write another song.

Now I realise that the complete pause I took gave me time and space to refill myself, consider music’s role in my life more deeply, and rebuild my faith and confidence in myself as a musician. Getting back to music was really slow going, and accelerated when I found a songwriting course run by musician Greta Morgan late last year. Being with so many other brilliant musicians re-sparked my desire to write, and that was the catalyst for making Faultlines.

2. The album draws on deeply personal themes, from generational trauma to sexual assault. How did you navigate writing and recording songs with such emotional weight?

I’m a Pisces and Enneagram 4, which means that emotion is my first and most natural language and authenticity, in terms of writing about my own experiences, is important to me. Authenticity is a very overused word these days, and what I mean by it is that I want to be known for who I truly am, warts and all, and to know others on a deeper level in turn. Like many songwriters, I write songs as a form of therapy for myself, and I’ve learned the personal catharsis can only happen if I’m as brutally honest as I can be in my lyrics. So writing about the darker aspects of life, particularly what it means to be a woman in the world, feels as natural to me as breathing.

3. Visual art and imagery seem central to Faultlines, from your moodboards to the cover photo at the Great Salt Lake. How do these visual elements influence the music itself?

Really directly! I have a master’s degree in Art History, so visual art is one of my other deep creative loves. When I’m thinking about the feelings I want to convey through a song or an entire album, in this case, going back to my favourite painters, photographers and sculptors helps me crystallise the overarching themes. I’m also a tarot practitioner and have been for almost a decade now, so I think about all my songs through the lens of tarot correspondences. It’s a nice way of marrying the visual and the sonic.

4. Many of the tracks, like “Bend to Break” and “Splintering,” explore transformation and liberation. How do you approach turning difficult experiences into moments of musical catharsis?

I think I’m obsessed with personal freedom, not in the sense of rampant individualism but in the sense of knowing who I really am and standing in my truths. It’s because of my background. I grew up in a very conservative evangelical community and my family attended a Southern Baptist church from the time I was little, and that environment is so oppressive – particularly for women. I grew up outsourcing my sense of self to Christianity, thinking that my role as a young woman was to be pure, virginal, sinless. When I found feminism and started to deconstruct those beliefs I really committed to getting to know myself and learning to trust my own intuition, rather than external guidance. I don’t think it’s an accident that I put an ocean between me and the community I grew up in, and I really think of the UK as the place I found my true self because I had the space to.

I share this because I think this is where the focus on liberation, freeing yourself from a destructive situation, comes from. It’s something I’ve lived personally, and it’s important to me that my songs honour what I’ve learned – that breakdowns are the prerequisites for growth.

5. Your music blends indie rock, dream pop, and folk influences. Who are some of the artists or works that have shaped the sound of Faultlines, and how do you see Pisgah’s sound evolving in the future?

There are so many I could name, so I’ll try to limit myself to a few! The first person who comes to mind is Jason Molina, a highly-underrated songwriter who wrote some of the most devastating accounts of how hard it is to be human in this world. That’s why the last song on the record is dedicated to him, because I don’t think I’d write the way I do without his influence. Aimee Mann is another musician I’m really indebted to. No one writes about disappointment as well as she does, and I think she’s wildly underrated, too.

Others that I have to shout out: Modest Mouse, one of my favourite bands of all time who taught me that music doesn’t have to be pretty to be powerful; Brand New, emo-turned-rock band that gave me language for deconstructing the religion I grew up in; Manchester Orchestra, another band that toes emo line that showed me how to write about death in a way that’s not overwrought; Tori Amos, who made me feel less alone in my female rage; and Emma Ruth Rundle, who blows my mind with her blending of metal and folk.

One of all the songs on the record, I see ‘Splintering’ as the one that’s pointing the way forward. I want it to get louder, more dissonant and experimental while still maintaining the emotional honesty!