Don and the Divorcees – Bit Players (13th Floor Album Review)
On Bit Players, Don and the Divorcees invite us into quiet rooms where we might sit alone, delivering a debut album that leans into subtlety, silences, and songcraft.
Across seven tracks, the trio from Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington of Don Mackay, Hollie Wright, and Beans Wright (no relation) weave sparse arrangements, gently plucked or strummed strings, and understated harmonies into an intimate, unhurried, and emotionally resonant album.
The production, led by Warwick Donald, is transparent: it encourages us to hear every slide of fingers along a guitar’s fretboard, every brushed chord, every breath before a lyric lands. The album gives space to each voice and each instrument. Nothing is rushed; nothing is hidden. And that restraint is part of what makes Bit Players so effective.
The album thrives on the interplay of distinct songwriting styles. Don Mackay’s songs are grounded in narrative, a legacy of storytellers like Guy Clark, and his warm baritone carries a well won wisdom. In Summer, he sings “Try to pretend I’m someone else” over mandolin and light, skipping rhythms, a song that feels like it’s moving forward even as it looks back. On Each Time I Fall, he delivers one of the album’s most plaintive refrains, “Who will pick me up each time I fall?” with brushed drums marking a slow journey, both literal and emotional.
Hollie Wright’s songwriting brings a more internal, reflective tone. In The Wall and Seventeen, her voice is steady, almost reserved, allowing the emotion to emerge through nuance. Words hang in the air with quiet force. On The Wall the interplay of guitar and violin evokes sadness without melodrama, while Seventeen, led in by the violin and closed by their echo, captures that aching blend of nostalgia and acceptance for a relationship that has run its course. Her writing recalls the emotional clarity of Laura Marling, though even more stripped back.
Beans Wright, meanwhile, offers songs with lyrical wit and emotional tension. Afterglow is perhaps the album’s emotional low tide. Its slow bass notes, humming vocals, and the haunting line “Something lost in translation” draw us into a space of regret and uncertainty, highlighting the power of its sense of what’s left unsaid.
Grouped together, the songs suggest a series of vignettes of people on the edges of things: relationships ending, identities shifting, chance fading. Moments, by Don Mackay, begins with a strum that sounds almost hopeful, but its lyrics, “Chances are it won’t make it to the screen,” pull us gently back to reality. There is a subtle wit at play too, an awareness of life’s small absurdities. The album title Bit Players says it clearly: these aren’t grand narratives, but finely observed notes of people falling, fading and holding on.
The songs are tied together by mood and texture. The instrumentation of violin, mandolin, acoustic guitar and electric bass is precise, tactile, and close. Producer Warwick Donald’s drums on Summer and Each Time I Fall add a gentle nudge forward with their propulsion. Every track feels played in the round. The harmonies are woven in gently, the differences in vocal timbre, such as Hollie’s clear, searching voice, Don’s grounded warmth, and Beans’ slight edge, create shifts in tone that elevate the album
Bit Players is an album that trusts in the detail, honesty, and strength of three distinct songwriting voices working in harmony. Alongside the sadness and stillness, there is wit, warmth, and a sense of the comfort of friends. Don and the Divorcees sing the songs of people who might usually be on the periphery and in doing so, they step tenderly and confidently into the centre of the frame, inviting others to join them.
John Bradbury
Bit Players is out now Presave links for Spotify and iTunes.
