Sub Pop Records

On her luminous and sometimes piercing sophomore LP, Jenn Wasner struggles through the overwhelming nature of heartbreak, coming to grips with the conflicting roles of both the breaker and the broken. Written in quarantine and recorded with a trusted cadre of collaborators, Head of Roses builds on the singer/songwriter's growing canon of intimate yet approachable art-pop which she releases under the name Flock of Dimes. Ultimately more layered and complex than Wasner's work as part of Wye Oak, Flock of Dimes' material manages to express an acute vulnerability without becoming stuck in the quagmire of deflated confessionalism. As on her excellent 2016 debut, Wasner tackles painful subjects with a sense of wonder, as if she's marveling at the complexities of human nature rather than being crushed by them. The clamorous "Price of Blue" ripples with wild energy as, in between epic guitar solos, Wasner examines the ruins, singing "and I can wander the wreck amazed and shivering." There is certainly sadness and regret in her lyrics, but on standouts like "Two" and "Lightning," they drift across the landscape in cloudy mists of skittering percussion, sparsely picked guitar, and saxophone as if rootless. This meeting of poignancy and sonic uplight is one of Wasner's personal hallmarks and a big part of what makes her music so effective. More transformative than dour, Head of Roses is a journey toward healing and marks another strong entry in Flock of Dimes' growing catalog of work. © Timothy Monger /TiVo

With a title to match its chaotic tone, World's Most Stressed Out Gardener is the seventh album from Chad VanGaalen, the Calgary-based singer, songwriter, and illustrator known for his eclectic kitchen-sink style and peculiar visual aesthetic. Since joining the Sub Pop label in 2005, VanGaalen has remained reliably true to his own D.I.Y. ethos, recording most of his albums at home, playing practically all of the instruments, and designing his own artwork and videos, which are populated with colorful creatures and wild, sometimes disturbing scenes. With every release, it's clear he has imagination to spare. His previous album, 2017's Light Information, doubled down on underlying currents of anxiety and alienation, and while elements of this spill over into Gardener, the whole of the record is a far more sprawling and disconnected affair. Segueing from tranquil space folk to tumultuous quasi-orchestral indie rock, often within the same track, VanGaalen unloads his whims with an almost frantic gusto. The results are as confounding as they are dazzling, though ultimately skewing toward the latter given the breadth and scope of his imagination. What Gardener lacks in cohesion, it generally makes up for in its sense of adventure and richness of experience. From the cosmic grooves of "Starlight" and "Nightwaves" to the bucolic folk of "Where Is It All Going?," there's a little something for everyone here. Interestingly, VanGaalen claims that Gardener began as an instrumental flute record, then morphed over a period of a few years into the unruly chamber folk/experimental pop beast it now resembles. Scattered among the more typical guitar-bass-drum elements are dreamy wind instruments, plucked cellos, pots, pans, and snippets of tape-recorded chatter from his young children. It can all be a bit much at times, but this all-in approach to creativity has been VanGaalen's M.O. from the start, and his talent remains something to behold. © Timothy Monger /TiVo