After introducing her lightly rustic, '70s-inflected songs and distinctively lithe, -tinged voice on 2020's , Bristol, U.K.-based went on a self-prescribed nature retreat of sorts while forced off the road due to pandemic shutdowns. When she was recharged and ready in late 2021 to write and record her second album, it was with a drive to experiment and expand her sound. Consequently, in addition to rejoining producer from her debut, she enlisted of breakout indie/post-punk label to weigh in on select songs. The resulting gathers gentle folk, driving folk-rock, and steely post-punk on an album united by an assertive, searching leader. All of the above come together on "Float," an album centerpiece that co-wrote with ( ) and which features of signee on drums. After a spacy synth intro, it shifts to bowed bass-accompanied acoustic strumming and a strong vocal melody before quickly collecting sturdy drums, rumbling guitar distortion, raindrop-like keys, lilting backing vocals, and fiddle, as if the discord is the point by the time it reaches a final chorus that's tired of waiting. 's input is even more conspicuous on songs like "Alligator" (featuring drummer ) and the nervy "Confession." The latter song opens with dingy synths and a repeated bass note that sets a brisk tempo for a punky verse that has recalling a memorable point of conflict. As the track progresses, warmer timbres including strummed guitar, horns, and 's own regretful delivery add complexity to the memory, although, ultimately, sleek timbres and relentless rhythms win out ("But you just wouldn't listen"). In between "Confession" and "Float" is the sharply contrasting "The Hour," whose haunted, fingerpicked folk and mournful vocal draw on troubadour tradition. Everything else falls somewhere in between, and somehow, from its pastoral opening title track to its glistening rock closer ("Willow's Song"), makes sense, through acknowledging struggle and uplifting with a gumption and determination that's reflected in its design. ~ Marcy Donelson