Maria Taylor – Story’s End (Million Stars) (13th Floor Album Review)
Maria Taylor returns with Story’s End, a record shaped in the aftermath of a marriage breakdown and the unravelling of a close creative relationship.
Those experiences sit beneath the surface rather than being spelled out, giving the album a sense of lived-in focus. It also remains closely tied to the musical world she helped build through Azure Ray and her long association with the Saddle Creek Records community.
That connection is carried forward through her collaboration with Conor Oberst, whose presence brings both musical and personal history, along with a shaping influence on the record. His instinct for leaving space around a vocal and allowing songs to unfold without forcing them is evident throughout. On Story’s End, that approach supports songs that favour clarity and restraint, giving Taylor’s voice room to land clearly and directly.
Within her solo catalogue, Story’s End sits as a later phase record that turns inward more fully than her earlier work. The early albums kept a degree of distance, while In the Next Life moved toward a more settled, domestic perspective. Here, ten year’s on, that stability gives way to something less certain, and while that sometimes loosens the structure, it gives the album a more immediate feel.
Story’s End opens the album, and lyrically it points to a beginning as much as an ending. The track unfolds around a simple piano figure, the vocal moving closely with it, as if following a line already laid out. A low hum gathers around the piano, drums enter, and strings rise, but each addition feels measured. Even as the song grows, it remains steady, returning to “I couldn’t love you more, if I tried,” holding both resignation and persistence.
That sense of careful movement continues through Shades of Blue. A light rhythmic pulse gives the song lift, while the vocal introduces reassurance in “just wait it’ll be okay”. By the closing repetitions of “it’s true”, it feels as though the song is working toward belief rather than declaring it.
At the centre of the record, Sorry I Was Yours, featuring Conor Oberst, brings that emotional focus into sharper view. The vocal lines overlap, perspectives blur, and the arrangement stays spare, the voices of a former couple sharing the same space. Guitar and low synth create a quiet foundation, with strings rising in a way that steadies rather than intensifies. When they sing “Sorry I was yours, sorry you were mine”, the shared phrasing carries equal weight, with no attempt to frame or soften it.
Tricky tackles the same tension, beginning by addressing someone else, “you want it all, you can’t have it,” before mirroring both the demand and the disappointment with “I want it all, I can’t take it.” The arrangement builds around a steady rhythmic base and even the track’s most forceful line, “just don’t fuck up my life” sits within the music rather than breaking through it.
That same musical pattern carries into Never Thought I’d Feel New and Powerlines, where the rhythm opens slightly but remains anchored. “I’ve got to get out of my mind” drives the former forward without fully resolving it, while “lift me up, I’ll lift you up” in the latter suggests connection that still feels conditional. In both, the music moves but never fully settles.
The final sequence draws the focus to what comes next. Nathaniel unfolds in a looser form, closer to spoken reflection, with shifting textures creating a sense of instability beneath the surface. Be Careful What You Want circles slowly, briefly opening into a lighter groove before returning to its earlier drift. In Everything Is Fine (My Loves), a brighter guitar pattern introduces a more rhythmic feel, but the repeated line “you are the best thing that happened to me” is given space to sit on its own, the pause that follows allowing both reassurance and doubt to settle.
The closing Change Is Coming Soon (Green Butterfly Sequel) moves into a more reflective space. Piano and violin introduce the song before drums and bass establish a steady forward motion. A brief lift hints at release, but the song returns to its earlier pace, repeating “change is coming soon” as a statement that looks ahead rather than concludes.
The sound across Story’s End sits comfortably alongside contemporary chamber pop. There are moments that recall the tonal richness of Weyes Blood, particularly in the use of strings and space, though Taylor’s writing remains grounded in specific relationships and everyday experience.
What holds the album together is the way it manages movement. The arrangements build and recede with care, the vocals remain clear and measured, and the songs return repeatedly to their central lines. Nothing is rushed, and nothing is forced toward resolution. Instead, Story’s End follows its ideas through, allowing them to unfold, settle, and continue.
John Bradbury
Story’s End is out April 3rd Conor Oberst’s Million Stars Records
