Lorings
Lindsay Olsen’s playful, dreamlike, channel-changing mix of jazz (“I dunno ways”), R&B (“I will never say”), goofy synth-pop (“Hobbies”), and New Age (“Basketball”) feels right at home in the Brainfeeder universe of Thundercat, Louis Cole, and Flying Lotus. But you can also connect her rightly and easily to a history of artists who have dared to quietly imagine other worlds beyond—or within—our own, from Max Tundra and Stereolab back through the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Joe Meek. Where her first couple of albums anchored themselves in complex sci-fi backstories, *Lorings* rests in how colorfully and expertly she emulsifies her various musical interests into something that feels both weird and off-kilter but deeply intimate—like an alien sitting down and taking off its socks. Her imagination is waiting. Sail away.
Lindsay Olsen’s new album trades cosmological conjecture for a spirit of inner contemplation, revealing her as an uncommonly inventive and endearing songwriter.