is the debut album from , a Brooklyn four-piece headed by . The bulk of its songs were written in reaction to the death of a ' mother, an event that involved revisiting a difficult childhood and staking claim to ' own queer identity. A onetime bass player for and , among several other Brooklyn bands, the songwriter is joined here by guitarist ( ), bassist (aka ), and drummer ). ' sound is their own, though, approximating a version 2010s Brooklyn singer/songwriter lo-fi with splashes of , bratty punk-pop, and irregular doses of mathy rhythms, shifting time signatures, and unison riffs. With 12 songs lasting a total of 20 minutes, is angsty, candid, and concise, setting lyrics like "What we had was dead, but now it's superdead" to an under-two-minute grunge waltz. The uber-hooky "All the Time" asserts desires in contrasting sections of calmer, sparer solo vocals and melodic group shouting. The group stanzas kick in with guitar distortion and feedback, and let the honesty fly. Even a more ambling song with a title like "Ice Cream on a Nice Day" is loaded with rumination and a self-consciousness that seems to be expelled just before the end, in a fleeting burst of churning guitars and full-on rock drums. For all of the grief and frustration behind it, it's an impulsive, infectious album that offers up catharsis for the songwriter and listeners alike. ~ Marcy Donelson