Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder to the Sky

With the volatile indie rock of 2020's , their Mercury Prize-nominated sophomore album, stepped firmly away from the onetime solo project's D.I.Y. roots. The group continue along that path and into slightly more theatrical territory on the follow-up, . With a title partly inspired by a surrealist collage by Eileen Agar and partly by the Biblical Jacob's Ladder, it was produced by , drummer , and singer and songwriter , who continues to evoke artists like and here with her raw and passionate vulnerability. The simmering "Back to the Radio" kicks off the track list with chugging, anticipatory guitar, muted feedback, and what sounds like behind-the-bar noise before enters with anxious sing-song-y vocals along the lines of "we need to talk." The song eventually folds in electric bass, drums, and a keyboard hook without drawing focus away from ceaseless vocals, delivered as if barely keeping her composure ("I miss everything now/We're worth nothing at all"). The confrontation, self-doubt, and anxiety continue through the catchier "Trying" and the exasperated "Birthday Party," which nettles with repetition ("I don't want to be loved") before finally losing any remaining composure. The album continues to play out like a series of dramatic scenes, with "End of Last Year" offering a moment of synth-organ-and ride cymbal-accompanied restraint (although still contentious), and "U Can Be Happy If You Want To" taking the form of an emotionally chafed, full-fledged psychedelic rocker in which the singer tells a partner about the partner's own dream. When she later reflects on her own dream, it's to say, "You sang my song/You always sing it wrong." Nothing's ever quite right on , whether it's the headlining relationships, the deliberately warped piano tuning of the ambling "Jealousy," the overdriven synth bass and mismatched guitar distortion of "The Rip," or the high-pitched, tinnitus-like tone that enters in the latter half of "Rotten." When the album closes on the relatively spare title track, its strummed acoustic guitar and atmospheric synths and horns underscore resigned lyrics that imply that there's no hope of a steadier middle ground: "No, I don't want the end/But I don't want the beginning/All the way down to hell/And all the way up to heaven." When paired with its predecessor, it solidifies as a go-to band for existential dread. ~ Marcy Donelson