Natalie Prass waits no longer

Natalie Prass released her self-titled debut in January, and while she’s already garnering best-of buzz, making headlines on the road, and swapping covers with tour mate Ryan Adams, the build-up to the album’s release hardly anticipated the whirlwind these last two months have been. Prass tracked most of the record three years ago with Matthew E. White and Spacebomb Records, recording songs written as long ago as 2009. While Spacebomb was putting its resources behind White’s 2012 release Big Inner, Prass’ debut remained in limbo. “I showed it to maybe three people throughout all those years,” Prass says. “It was just so much work, so much thought and energy went into it. I was kind of protecting it. I wanted to keep focused, keep moving.”

Momentum for Prass took many different forms, from an Etsy shop making clothing for dogs (“It was taking off!”) to a gig playing keys on the road for Jenny Lewis. But waiting was tough for Prass, who was sitting on a big record. Working Spacebomb’s house band allowed her to pair sweet, clear vocals with big brass and an orchestral backdrop, something unusual for a first-time recording artist. “It was like, ‘Oh my God, 30 people are going to play on my record?’” she says. “That’s crazy. Nobody’s doing that.”

Prass, who briefly studied songwriting at Berklee College of Music before pursuing a career in Nashville, knew Spacebomb founder White from an early age in her hometown of Richmond, Va. “I only knew Matt as a jazz, folk guitar player growing up,” Prass says. “I had no idea he could produce or write horn arrangements.”

The connection was instant once they were reintroduced: A shared hometown experience and a penchant for Motown music underscored their approach to selecting and arranging Prass’ songs from a similar mindset. “Matt is such a visionary,” she says. “He is good at having a plan and putting together the right team. He’s good at finding that perfect piece to make his vision come to life. I’m honored that he saw that in me.”

Lyrically, Prass has plenty of lines on the weight of waiting. On standout track “My Baby Don’t Understand Me,” she describes a drawn-out relationship as “a long goodbye,” while “Violently,” the oldest song on the record, expresses a longing to skip niceties and get to know someone, despite one’s better judgment. While the subjects of these poetic breakups are long behind her, the lyrics are far from stale, taking on new shapes to fit her life as it is now.

The instrumentation, too, adapts to where Prass is presently, with the big studio sound reimagined to accommodate a stripped-down touring band. Cello parts played on bass, horn parts on guitar — the arrangements have become vital parts of the songs. But Prass isn’t afraid to let them evolve into something that fits her circumstances. “They feel like old friends,” she says. “So much has changed in my life, and these songs are still there.”