Reeya Banerjee Turns Melody Into Memory on Her New Album "This Place"

There’s something instantly striking about Reeya Banerjee’s This Place. It’s not just the power of her voice, or the confidence in her songwriting, but the way she manages to bring together introspection and catharsis so naturally that the album feels very much like a personal revelation.

Across nine tracks, Banerjee transforms her lived experiences into soundscapes of heartache, self-reflection and healing, proving herself as a songwriter who doesn’t merely tell stories, but who really inhabits them.

A follow-up to her 2022 debut The Way Up, which was a raw, emotionally charged record centered on mental health recovery, This Place widens the frame.

It’s a concept album of sorts, exploring how physical places shape emotional states, and how the memories we carry become destinations of their own. The record’s title is less about geography than identity however. Banerjee uses place as metaphor, charting a life in motion full of detours and rediscoveries.

The opening track, “Picture Perfect,” is an ideal entry point. It's dynamic and immediately alive. The song unfolds with scuzzy guitars and a pulsing rhythm section while Banerjee’s vocals cut through with remarkable clarity, moving between vulnerability and grit as she recounts the bittersweet memory of a fleeting connection.

The pace shifts dramatically with “Snow,” a more hauntingly beautiful ballad where Banerjee’s voice floats over delicate guitars and ambient textures. The coldness of the title seeps into the sound design - there is a chill in the mix, a stillness that makes every word feel suspended in midair. “Blue and Gray” picks up the emotional thread, layering gentle percussion and echoing guitars into something reminiscent of mid-’80s Peter Gabriel, though Banerjee’s phrasing and phrasing are distinctly her own, sharp and poetic.

Midway through, “Misery of Place” injects the record with a shot of restless energy. It’s riff-heavy and rhythmically relentless. Her lyrics are tightly woven, capturing the sensation of being stuck somewhere physically or emotionally, and the tension between the desire to leave and the comfort of familiarity. “Runner” follows in a similar vein as it infuses a punk spirit into a song that’s more precise than chaotic. The guitars churn, the drums sprint, and Banerjee sounds like she’s racing her own past - and, in the process, outrunning it.

As the album unfolds, Banerjee continues to surprise. “Sink In” builds a dense wall of sound with layer upon layer of guitars, percussion and ambient flourishes that create a sense of immersion. In contrast, “Good Company” is breezy and warm, a reminder that joy and connection are as much a part of her story as struggle and solitude. It’s one of the few moments on the album where she lets her guard down completely.

The closing track, “Upstate Rust,” is perhaps the most emblematic of what This Place is about. It’s gritty and graceful in equal measure. Definitely an anthem for renewal wrapped in the wear and tear of time. The song’s intricate guitar work and soaring vocals leave the impression of a road stretching out in two directions: the past in the rearview mirror and the future just beyond the horizon.

Produced by longtime collaborator James Rubino at Lorien Sound Recording Studios in Brooklyn, the album is as rich sonically without being overdone.

The arrangements are organic, with every texture serving the emotional intent of the song. Banerjee’s vocals are refined under the guidance of vocal coach Mindy Lim, and sound more expressive than previously. She can go from a whisper to a roar in the span of a verse, and every inflection is noted.

This Place is an album about where Banerjee has been. It’s about who she’s become because of those places. It’s an exploration of belonging, memory, and the messy beauty of growth. Few records this year have captured the emotional complexity of transformation so completely.

Connect with Reeya Banerjee on her Website

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