Cara Beth Satalino built her adulthood in feral, eccentric Baltimore, Maryland, waiting tables and playing in a band, keeping her schedule flexible just in case an opportunity arose. Though spontaneity seemed inevitable as an artist, she was stuck. Paralyzed by her own assumptions of what a musician’s life needed to be, time passed undetectably — more songs written, more gigs played, tips in pocket on which to survive, undying hopes of “making it” in the music industry. In a moment of frustration, Cara Beth left Baltimore to pursue further schooling. Along with her partner Chester Gwazda — fellow member of indie band Outer Spaces — the couple moved to New Jersey only to be met with a chronic illness diagnosis for Cara Beth, a global pandemic, a surprise pregnancy, looming mental-health issues, and the inevitable obligation to quit school. So much upheaval after fifteen years of a predictable lifestyle led to the creation of Little Green, a bold, stripped-back, ten-song distillation of identity out on UK label Worried Songs. Born in upstate New York, the breeding ground for America’s rich history of folk and settler traditions, Cara Beth was steeped in acoustic sounds from a young age. Her father, an accomplished instrumentalist, colored her childhood with the vibrations of fiddle, banjo, guitars, and mandolin. Though she had spent much of her indie rock career rarely allowing these influences to show, the unravelling of her life seemed like a perfect time to be honest about her musical framework. As “Warmth of A Golden Sun” opens Little Green with what feels like a folk-rock dirge over Casio drum machine beats — Cara Beth offers a sonic analogy about her move from weird city life into warm analog intimacy. “Dandelion Weed” plants the listener firmly into her ecosystem of pedal steel and close-microphoned acoustic guitar, but with succinct rock drumming that gives the song’s spaciousness a sturdy foundation. Though the influences of Fairport Convention, James Taylor, and Sandy Denny are all opaquely present throughout the record, surprising twists like the Velvet Underground electricity of “Little Green” and the classic ’70s country shuffle on “Time”, broaden the scope out of upstate New York into the eclectic artist she has become. Sitting above this spacious sonic palette is the obvious allure of Little Green: Cara Beth’s voice. Her vocal tones span centuries, from traditional mountain singing to hints of young Dolly Parton and the delivery of Gillian Welch.