Rose Vaughn Makes a Striking First Impression with Her Self-Titled Debut Album

Sidney Parish

When Rose Vaughn released “Caught in a Lie” last summer, its raw honesty and twangy edge hinted at something bigger on the horizon. Now, nearly a year later, she emerges in full bloom with her striking self-titled debut album, Rose Vaughn.

Lately, I’ve been making a conscious effort to experience albums as complete works—and I’ve realized how rare it is to come across one that compels you to move, to dance, no matter its tempo or themes. Rose Vaughn is one of those rare gems. Brimming with charm and rich in twang, the album is driven by Vaughn’s gritty, commanding vocals as she navigates themes of love, loss, betrayal, and everything that lives in the spaces between. It feels almost limiting to place this album within a single genre—while country and honky tonk elements are unmistakable, there’s an undercurrent of surf and garage rock that calls to mind bands like Shannon & The Clams and Sheer Mag. Given Vaughn’s past as the lead vocalist of a garage rock band, these influences come as no surprise. Still, Rose Vaughn carves out its own identity, as the vocalist proudly declares,

“Don’t call it a country album, or do. As long as it’s something worth dancing to.”

And dance you will. Tracks like “Fresh Start,” “Stray,” and “Lone Pine” invite a gentle sway, perfect for a slow dance. Meanwhile, songs like “Burnt Out” and “Closing Door” bring a burst of energy—made for cutting loose and leaving it all on the floor. Dancing aside, however, I find “Ghost Town” and “Burnt Out” to be the standout tracks of this album.

Both tracks highlight everything that makes Rose Vaughn and her band stand out—the sharp songwriting, vivid storytelling, phenomenal production, and the effortless chemistry that ties it all together. While “Ghost Town” and “Burnt Out” explore the unraveling of a relationship and the lingering hope that it might still be salvaged, it’s in “Burnt Out” where Vaughn’s storytelling truly takes center stage as she sings,

“Late at night I wonder where you go / Always sneaking out after the show / When you finally stumble through my door / Drunker than you ever were before / Lately I’ve been calling your name / Even if it makes me feel insane / But you never seem to turn around / At this point I’d even take a frown

But then follows up in the next verse,

Hoping that I’ll catch you down the road / Within’ I could call you on the phone / I’d tell you how much you’d mean to me / Knowing I could never set you free / I see you face in every tree / The branches all smilin’ back at me / Maybe if you’d ever turn around / You’d see the woman you love give her best frown.”

In addition to Vaughn’s songwriting skills, she is backed by a talented team throughout the entire album, consisting of Shawn Wyman on bass, Willie McMains on drums, Justin LeCuyer on electric guitar, Paul Buller on pedal steel, Mac Folger on fiddle, and Corey McGillivary on backing vocals. The band plays with seamless harmony, yet each member shines in their own right: bass and drums drive the rhythm and amplify Vaughn’s edge, while the pedal steel and fiddle weave their own narratives in the instrumental moments. Meanwhile, the guitar and backing vocals fill in the gaps, rounding out the sound with texture and depth.

Rose Vaughn’s self-titled debut feels like a secret worth sharing, a hidden gem ready to charm anyone lucky enough to press play. If you ever find yourself wandering through New Orleans, check if she’s lighting up the stage at St. Roch Tavern. And if not, don’t worry. Wherever there’s good music, good company, and room to dance, chances are, Rose Vaughn won’t be far behind.