The circumstances of Bonny Light Horseman’s debut prompted a litany of guests; the circumstances of Rolling Golden Holy, however, prompted a deepening of the trio’s collaboration with drummer JT Bates and bassist/saxophonist Mike Lewis, the only other players here. These constraints motivate the quintet. With its frolicking banjo and playful horn, “Sweetbread” is an ecstatic existential manifesto, Mitchell grinning as she exclaims “Blue sky, Lord, when I die” above Bates’ ascendant drums. The stately “Comrade Sweetheart” is the flip side of the same coin, with the lock-and-key harmonies of Johnson and Mitchell arcing over the exquisitely prismatic arrangement of Bates’ muted cymbal splashes, Lewis’ restrained bass, Kaufman’s sculpted symphony of organ and guitar. This is Bonny Light Horseman stepping into the full splendor of its life as a full band.

Being in a band is obviously not a novel enterprise, but Bonny Light Horseman has always thrived in rendering fresh wisdom and insight from old models, whether that’s scraps of ancient songs or the spark of ever-entwined voices. This is a network of mutualism, created for sharing, learning, risking, singing, and playing as one, not as mere sums of fractions. Rolling Golden Holy, then, is Bonny Light Horseman’s testament to interdependence, partnership, and trust at a moment when we crave such connections so much. Anaïs Mitchell, Josh Kaufman, and Eric D. Johnson fully appreciate what they have found in one another through Bonny Light Horseman; on Rolling Golden Holy, we get to live inside that magic, too.