On
A Love You Cannot Shake
,
Fashion Club
's
Pascal Stevenson
reveals how much more there is to her music than the soul-baring post-punk of her debut album,
Scrutiny
.
Stevenson
wrote her second album in the wake of her gender transition, an experience that empowered her to express herself more fully. While the desperation, anger, and blunt honesty of
made it an unforgettable listen,
finds just as much eloquence in the relative ease of
. This lighter, more confident version of
immediately makes itself known on "Faith," a musical big bang that begins with galaxy-sized electronic bursts and blooms into strings and drums that cradle
's voice as she muses, "I'm all dressed up in happiness/Until maybe one day I'll believe it." She frames the rest of
's epiphanies with sounds that span indie, classical, electronic, and industrial and let her flex her chops as a producer. On "Deny," she sets her doubts to streaking and scraping tones worthy of
Arca
; on "Deify," she traces her emotional journey with pummeling guitars and drums that eventually give way to strings and piano that rival the work of
Max Richter
for their mournful beauty. The album's softness extends to
's vocals, which trade
's glowering contralto for a gentler approach that's not just more vulnerable, but more versatile. When she sings, "I've found comfort in the truth," on the glowing indie rock of "Ice Age," she embodies that feeling of relief just as completely as she lets herself hope on the flawlessly fuzzy pop of "One Day."
makes the opening up of her music on
literal by bringing in some well-chosen collaborators. Considering how devoted they both are to confessing their deepest truths to inventive sonics,
Perfume Genius
and
are a perfect pairing, and the luminous, tremulous "Forget" doesn't disappoint.
Jay Som
joins
on "Ghost," a constellation of skittering electronics that feels worlds away from
. However, a closer listen reveals that many of that album's strengths have made the journey to
. Honor and morality remain major players in
's songs, particularly on the gorgeous
Julie Byrne
collaboration "Rotten Mind," where blankets of distortion and reverb can't disguise how pointed the question "do you want to do what's right?" is.
still wields rhymes to devastating effect, expressing how seductive denial is on "Confusion" ("I get by on illusion¿We all rely on delusion") and the physical consequences of internalized betrayal on "Enough" ("It builds up in your gut/Recast into disgust").
may not be as raw and singular as
, but it reflects a different kind of bravery by artfully capturing the joy and pain of living authentically. It's truly moving to hear
embrace the possibilities that have opened up in her music; with any luck, widening her sound will widen
's audience. ~ Heather Phares