The sophomore album of this New York art punk is a sensory amalgamation of haunting memories and chromatic films, gift wrapped in angelic gauze. With allusions to Deerhoof’s eclectic instrumentation, the groove is grafted onto Jeff Buckley’s sweeping romanticism, then filtered through ambient progressive rock.
For Frances Chang, psychedelia can be found in the crosshairs of art rock, freak folk, bedroom punk, and more in a soupy mess of modified consciousness. On her first full-length under her own name, support your local nihilist, all those influences coagulate into an unapologetically honest and intense expression of her irreplicable vantage point.
