When two musical worlds collide with this much heart, you don’t just listen—you feel it in your bones. Who Believes In Angels?, the unexpected but deeply resonant collaboration between Elton John and Brandi Carlile, is more than just an album; it’s a conversation between generations, genres, and spirits. With a title that sounds like a hymn and a dare, the project arrives steeped in the sacred and the searching, bridging John’s decades-long legacy of glam, grief, and grandiosity with Carlile’s raw, rootsy truth-telling. This isn’t just about two powerhouse voices—it’s about the emotional weight they carry, the stories they tell, and the healing they offer along the way. Whether you’re a lifelong fan or stepping into their orbits for the first time, this album asks a tender, timely question: What do we believe in now?
Right away, one of John and Carlile’s most intriguing choices with Who Believes In Angels? is splitting the album into two discs—a rare move in today’s streaming-heavy world, but one that signals intention. This isn’t just a playlist of songs tossed together; it’s a structured, almost cinematic experience. Each disc seems to tell its own story while remaining part of a greater, emotional arc. That decision sets the tone for an album meant to be absorbed, not just consumed.
Musically, it’s a well-paced journey—an ebb and flow between slow-burning ballads and upbeat, sometimes defiant anthems. The tracklist has an emotional rhythm that keeps the listener on their toes without ever feeling disjointed. It leans into both artists’ strengths: John’s piano-driven drama and Carlile’s folk-rock grit.
Two songs in particular made an immediate impression. The title track, “Who Believes In Angels?,” feels like the heart of the album—an aching, gospel-tinged meditation that sounds like it was pulled straight from a stained-glass memory. It’s reflective, searching, and delivered with a vulnerability that lingers long after the final note. In contrast, “Swing For The Fences” bursts with life. It’s bold, fiery, and charged with a hopeful urgency—a rallying cry for anyone who’s ever dared to dream big or love hard.
Those first listens hint at the emotional range and intentional craftsmanship behind the album. It’s clear from the outset that this is not just a cross-generational collaboration; it’s a work of art.
Lyrically, Who Believes In Angels? is rich with emotional weight and thematic depth. It wrestles with big, timeless questions—about faith, legacy, resilience, and the fragility of hope—without ever tipping into melodrama. What’s most striking is how the album feels both deeply personal and universally resonant, like a letter to the past and a prayer for the future.
The title track sets the tone thematically: a gentle reckoning with belief in a world that often feels broken. Without demanding an answer, it asks whether holding on to something spiritual—or even just optimistic—is still possible. That same spiritual thread weaves through the entire project, not in overt religious language, but through subtle invocations of light, grace, and redemption. The lyrics don’t preach; they plead—gently, beautifully, and sometimes desperately.
One of the most powerful lyrical through-lines is the idea of survival, not just in the face of hardship, but despite it. On songs like “Swing For The Fences,” there’s a fiery insistence on pushing forward, even when the odds aren’t in your favor. The chorus, full of grit and swagger, becomes an anthem for anyone who’s ever felt underestimated.
There are moments of tenderness too—songs where love is shown not as a grand gesture, but as quiet presence. The lyrics lean into vulnerability, nostalgia, and longing, often pulling from both artists’ life experiences without ever feeling self-indulgent. Whether they’re singing about queer identity, chosen family, or simply the ache of growing older, John and Carlile write like they’re sharing secrets with the listener.
Together, their pens carve out space for reflection, rebellion, and radical hope. It’s the kind of writing that doesn’t just speak—it listens.
Vocally, Who Believes In Angels? is nothing short of mesmerizing. John and Carlile don’t just trade verses—they intertwine, elevate, and challenge each other in ways that feel both organic and electric. It’s a duet in spirit, even when they’re not singing together, because their voices haunt each other’s melodies, like echoes from different lifetimes converging in the same space.
John, as ever, brings that unmistakable warmth and theatricality to the table—his voice a little more weathered, but still powerful, especially on the album’s more introspective moments. His delivery’s a lived-in beauty, especially when he leans into lower registers, where pain and wisdom seem to settle. Carlile, on the other hand, brings fire. Her vocals are raw, textured, and unrelentingly human. Whether she’s soaring through a chorus or cracking just slightly on a fragile note, there’s nothing polished about her performance—and that’s exactly what makes it gripping.
Together, they find a balance that feels sacred. On tracks like “Who Believes In Angels?,” their harmonies feel reverent, like a prayer whispered between two pews. But on more upbeat numbers like “Swing For The Fences,” they let loose, their voices colliding in a way that feels joyful and rebellious. It’s less about perfection and more about presence; both artists show up fully.
Instrumentally, the album is a tapestry of John’s signature piano work, Carlile’s acoustic sensibilities, and thoughtful production that never overshadows the storytelling. There are sweeping string arrangements, gritty guitar lines, and moments of quiet stillness where a single instrument is all that’s needed. The spacious, soulful, and often cinematic production lets every song breathe. No sound feels accidental, but nothing feels overproduced either.
This isn’t an album trying to impress with complexity. It’s confident in its simplicity, letting the strength of the performances and the weight of the lyrics carry the emotional load.
Who Believes In Angels? isn’t just a collaboration—it’s a cultural moment. It’s rare by accident that legends like John choose their creative partners late in their careers. In Carlile, he’s found more than a kindred spirit; he’s found a torchbearer who shares his commitment to storytelling, emotional honesty, and defying expectations. This album feels like a passing of the baton and a standing ovation.
For John, this record expands his legacy beyond pop stardom into something even more profound: mentorship, reflection, and reinvention. He’s no longer the rocket man charging ahead—he’s the lighthouse, guiding others home. And yet, he’s not retreating into nostalgia. His work here is vital, present, and deeply felt.
For Carlile, Who Believes In Angels? cements her role as a generational voice—one who can walk alongside giants without ever shrinking herself. She doesn’t fade into John’s shadow; she stands beside him, fully lit, bringing her own lived experience, grit, and grace to the table. Her continued advocacy for LGBTQ+ voices, women in music, and emotional vulnerability finds an even broader audience through this partnership.
Together, they bridge gaps between generations, genres, and identities. The album doesn’t just appeal to longtime John fans or Carlile’s Americana base; it reaches into multiple communities and invites them to connect through something universal: the search for meaning, for belief, for belonging. There’s also something quietly radical about two openly queer artists making an album steeped in spirituality, not as a performance but as a reclaiming of faith on their own terms. In a time when so much music feels fleeting, Who Believes In Angels? dares to be lasting. It doesn’t chase trends—it creates space. Space to reflect, to remember, and maybe even to heal.

















