On her debut full-length , avant-garde singer/songwriter wanders through an insular soundworld that's eerie and ungrounded but also full of slippery beauty. Many of 's songs are made up of minimal elements but employ layer upon layer of overdubbed vocals, her one voice multiplied into a creaky chorus of angels and demons trying to find the same tune. On opening track "He Is on His Way Home, We Don't Live Together," this swirl of voices hangs on a haunted piano melody before spiraling into chaos and unexpected blurts of electric guitar and freeform percussion. "Women's Role in War" is brief, with walls of vocals clinging to what sounds like a banjo loop, and "Woke Up and No Feet" is a menacing kind of folk song, mostly made of yelps and wails that criss-cross each other. At just over 21 minutes long, the entire nine-song album is short and succinct, wasting none of its energy on filler. In 's weird world, a one-minute-and-40-second song like "Sorghum" -- with no easily defined structure or hooks -- is what passes for pop. There are lots of precursors to the sound spins on : 's icy drawling, , unhinged crooners like or , or the earliest waves of freak folk when and were making demonic campfire songs. touches on all these reference points without sounding too much like any of them. is at its most captivating when it doesn't even sound much like music at all, but more like the grinding gears of an overactive brain processing confusion and bliss. ~ Fred Thomas