#014

This sentence may say more about me than I intend it to, but— there is a terrifying amount of vulnerability on display here. From the opening tracks to the interludes with candid recordings, this pop artist I've never heard of until this week has laid out this tapestry of vague, yet very personal sound. Palatably experimental, thin and airy, really cool. All of "Look at Us Now Dad" is damn solid but I keep thinking about "Permission." Sparse, deliberate instrumentation and crystalline high notes and this very raw admission of emotional pain. It's intoxicating in a difficult way. Honestly the entire back half of the whole album just slapped me in the face, really. The title track is absolutely heart rending in a way I was just completely not expecting, and made me realize my conception of the album title being this rebellious cry was just utterly wrong. I like being wrong sometimes. Good stuff.

favorite tracks: tennis fan, fuckwit, permission, ripe, look at us now dad