Only You Can See It

Album review

Following her kaleidoscopic, self-recorded second album, 2013's Olive Juice, by six years, Only You Can See It is the Carpark Records debut of songwriter and sound explorer Emily Reo. It was largely inspired by mental health struggles in the interim that found Reo reluctant or, often, unable to leave the security of her room. Perhaps surprisingly, while lyrics convey this trepidation, it ends up being her most collaborative and vibrant release yet. Continuing a transition from murky lo-fi toward infectious avant-pop, she doesn't entirely leave behind the tape hiss of her earliest recordings, incorporating static and layers of fidelity into a track like "Ghosting," a song that rhymes "tracing my anxiety" with "embracing my sobriety." The track also combines wistful chords, a bright melody, and fluttery drums that settle into a regular groove. Live drums are provided by Felix Walworth (Told Slant), who also plays other instruments on the album -- among them harp and theremin. Other contributors include Julian Fader and Carlos Hernandez of Ava Luna, Jack Greenleaf of Sharpless, and Ben Chapoteau-Katz (Bettye LaVette), who renders a longing saxophone that links the song "Fleur" to the ghostly interlude "Counterspell." Most of the record is Reo and her battery of keyboards and synths, however, whose anxiety is filtered through elfin vocoder vocals. Throughout, the effect seems to try to mask a darker reality in service of the album's sparkling pop anthems. This tension is near peak on "Strawberry," a bubbly track with a sunshiny melody, bright and primitive video game-like timbres, whistling, and lyrics that address street harassment and sexism at the gig ("My eyes roll back so far I see my brain"). While its lyrics add a defining layer to Only You Can See It, the main takeaway is its collection of exuberant, weird, occasionally dazzling choruses that ultimately uplift.

© Marcy Donelson /TiVo