Eve Adams Announces Poetic New Album ‘American Dust’
An evocative tribute to the American Southwest, shaped by solitude, memory, and the quiet resilience of everyday lives.
Eve Adams returns with American Dust, her deeply atmospheric new album arriving 22 August 2025 via Basin Rock. Inspired by the raw beauty of the American Southwest, the record paints a portrait of desert life and forgotten histories through ten rich, character-driven songs.
American Dust builds on the dreamlike intimacy of Adams' 2021 album Metal Bird, but takes a more grounded, narrative approach. While her previous work was wrapped in cinematic haze, this new collection brings her songwriting into sharp relief, tracing stories of grit, love, sacrifice, and survival, especially through the lens of the women who quietly hold everything together.
Having relocated to what she calls “the middle of nowhere,” Adams immersed herself in the slower pace of desert life. The result is an album that speaks from within its setting, drawing on the rhythms and mysteries of its landscape. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” she explains. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”
Opening track and first single “Nowhere Now” introduces the album’s themes with simmering intensity, its lyrics layered with heartbreak and quiet defiance. “Stop saying I’m pretty, it makes me feel so mundane,” Adams sings, her voice wrapped in gentle instrumentation that mirrors the arid heat of its visual counterpart.
American Dust was created in collaboration with Canadian artist Bryce Cloghesy (Military Genius, Crack Cloud), who co-produced and performed across the record. Strings from Gamaliel Traynor (cello) and Oliver Hamilton of Caroline (violin) add a lush, melancholic depth to the arrangements, reinforcing the album’s sense of time, place, and memory.
Reflecting on the record, Adams connects her work to generations past: “The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone.”
