Blessings is a ten-track album released on February 3, 2023, and it sits at a quiet hinge in Wah!'s catalog. It arrived after the devotional run of Queen of Mantra, DEVOTION, Offering and Elevated, and before the twenty-track sprawl of Prabhuji, which followed in December 2023. That placement matters. Blessings is neither her opening statement nor her largest gesture. It is a compact, ten-song record from an artist who, by her own account, has been bringing kirtan to Western audiences since the 1990s, and who has played bass in her joyful rock band at yoga festivals and centers since 1997. Think of it as a middle chapter: settled, unhurried, and confident in its devotional vocabulary.
Wah!'s music rests on Sanskrit mantra sung over harmonium, with her own voice carrying the melody and the call-and-response shape of kirtan. In her online concerts she adds Ableton Live to that core, and listeners should expect the same warmth and polish here: something closer to a modern studio recording than to an unamplified room of singers. I can't give you a verified instrument-by-instrument breakdown of this particular album, so treat the harmonium, voice and production-forward feel as the signature of her work generally, not a track-by-track inventory.
The pacing is the thing to settle into. Her recent work leans mid-tempo rather than driving or ecstatic, and the mood across a Wah! record is repetitive in the best sense: a phrase returns, shifts slightly, and returns again until the repetition does its work. If you come for variety or irony, this isn't the place. If you come for sincerity and a steady pulse, it rewards you.
A caution first: I don't have the track list for Blessings, and I won't guess at titles. Rather than name songs I can't verify, here is how to listen for what makes any track on this album land.
The opening track. On a ten-track devotional album, the first mantra sets the terms. Listen for how long she lets the first call sit before the response arrives, and how much room the arrangement leaves around her voice. That patience is the album's thesis.
The middle of the sequence. Around the fifth and sixth tracks, kirtan records tend to deepen rather than change. Notice where the repetition stops feeling like repetition and starts feeling like aground you are standing on. That shift is the reason to listen in order rather than shuffle.
The closing track. Albums built on chant often end by thinning out. Pay attention to how the final song releases you, whether the voice recedes, the harmonium lingers, or the band steps back. It is the last blessing, and it should feel like one.
If you want titles to anchor on, open the album on Spotify and let the sequence guide you; the order is part of the design.
Wah!'s work belongs to bhakti, the devotional path in which sung names of the divine carry the practice, and her form is kirtan, the call-and-response chanting that originated in India. The bio names no specific teacher or lineage, so her place in the tradition is best understood through the practice itself and through her own account of bringing kirtan West. Her claim to have been the first woman to do so comes from her website and should be read as her own telling.
What distinguishes Blessings, as with the rest of her work, is the translation. Her rock-band background, her use of studio tools, and her sound-healing vocabulary make her kirtan sound different from acoustic, room-based chanting. Purists may find that a departure; many listeners find it an invitation. Either way, the devotional core, Sanskrit mantra sung in call and response, remains intact.
This album is for the listener who already lives with a yoga or meditation practice and wants a devotional record that doesn't demand scholarly background. It suits someone in a stretch of stress or transition, the person the "Less Stress More Wah!" bumper sticker was made for. It is also a good fit for those who find traditional unaccompanied kirtan austere and want something warmer, more produced and more companionable.
It will land less well for listeners who want high-tempo electronic music, those wary of wellness language, or anyone seeking philological depth on Indian devotional texts. Her work is practice-oriented, not academic.
Give it an uninterrupted evening. Headphones help, because a harmonium-and-voice foundation with studio layering reveals its texture close up. Dim the lights, put the phone away, and play the album front to back so the sequencing can do its quiet work. If you chant, sing the responses under your breath; the form is built for participation, and the record opens up when you answer it.
Ten tracks, one sitting, no skipping. Let the repetition carry you, and see where you are when the last blessing fades.
