Fatigue

The second album from Brooklyn’s Taja Cheek asks the big questions in slippery ways, with poetic ripples of mantra-like vocals, or field recordings that take on a mystical significance (a roommate singing, a hand-clapping game). The layered, nonlinear soundscapes on *Fatigue* feel totally uncategorizable yet inexplicably comforting as Cheek—who plays bass, guitar, piano, synth, and percussion here, in addition to her vocals and personal recordings—guides herself down a winding path of discovery. “Make a way out of no way,” she repeats on the kaleidoscopic “Find It”; the wondrous almost-songs that follow use that sentiment as a guiding light.

The Brooklyn songwriter and sound artist’s second album is a kind of spiritual accounting, a swirling blend of orchestral groans and human whispers that evokes subconscious drift.

L'Rain's reflective and exposing Fatigue is a transformative listen that leaves you wanting more

Brooklyn experimentalist Taja Cheek is in a constant state of flux on her sophomore album, and her warbly, yet instantly…

Taja Cheek's 2017 debut album as L'Rain was an immersive, genre-blending dream sequence that connected sentiments of sorrow, love, and healing through abstract tape manipulations.