In celebration of “Pang’s” first birthday, Caroline Polachek has reproduced and extended opening track “Gate” for longer listening.

In tandem, here is my review of her debut album from last year. Enjoy!

“PANG!” One moment you’re peacefully at rest in bed, the next you’re anxiously looking to sate some sort of emptiness. Hunger beckons you to the kitchen, envy leads you to a glowing screen and affection has you ready to fly out of the front gate towards the moon.

These are the rushes of adrenaline and desire that frame Caroline Polachek’s debut solo album, “Pang.” It is also framed by a carefully-crafted mythos, inspired by sharp-edged, moody Disney paintings, and the intricate set designs that adorn their parks.

“The greyhound is the spirit animal of ‘Pang’ (greyhounds’ curved bellies look the way a pang of hunger feels)… ready to bolt, but also affectionate, big-eyed and mythical, tugging at the leash.”

Polachek, Instagram @carolineplz

The album depends on visual ideas that almost seem like a direct reaction to Polachek’s last musical effort — the joint project, “Moth,” by the band Chairlift.

The other half of the band, Patrick Wimberly, painted a more upbeat and bright image of love in the city, whereas Polachek looks to upend that perspective, peering into the more desperate headspaces that navigate heightened emotional states.

The first half of the album lives under a dark cloud, with spears of lightning occasionally flashing through. The striking synthesizers in the title track adds fangs to Polachek’s biting lyrics, “It’s a beautiful knife cutting right where the fear should be.” 

In “Hit Me Where It Hurts,” the same self-doubt manifests itself outwardly. “I’m feeling like a butterfly trapped inside a plane / Maybe there’s something going on, I’m not insane.” Polachek’s flight pattern is predetermined, a deep club synth striking in between the choruses to give the track a sleek sound that embraces a loss of control.

“Pang” certainly confronts the listener with despair and apathy, portraying depressive scenes at times. “Insomnia” is like a black hole, the center of the album where a switch from dark to light seems possible, but not before some deep introspection, “Dreams of dried fields / That once were green / Burnt by someone just like me.”

“Ocean of Tears” is the revelation that culminates from the soundscapes in the album. It’s a fiery waterspout, a tension between two worlds that desperately anticipate unison. “I wanna know what it feels like / To pull you close and tangle up with you real tight.” Backing vocals are submerged into a lowpass filter, a stormy-white noise hangs in the air and metallic-sounding synthesizers clash like swords.

In the music video for “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” Polachek dances around in the underworld with her hands and her voice casts spells on the listener. Synthetic, but real, like the hellish landscape behind her. Polachek’s voice resembles an electric guitar, as she softly chants, “Show me the banana,” a wink and a nudge that delights in the playfulness of flirtation.

That playful appeal pairs with Polachek’s operatic voice in an intriguing way. Her embrace of voice modulation bridges the gap between sounds of yesteryear and modernity. While contemporaries like Charli XCX use it as a brash and bombastic look toward the future, Polachek seems to turn it inward, arranging songs with computer-generated orchestras and strings that appeal to drowning hearts who go up for a breath of air on the dancefloor, or in the sheets.

“Caroline Shut Up” is a sweaty and seductive plea for the mind to follow the heart and body. Polachek frustratingly picks at her anxious, self-critical ways, lest she ruins the very thing she so desperately chases.

During the time-tripping chorus on penultimate track, “Door,” that chase seems endless, or at the very least futile. The song devolves into an overwhelming flurry of instrumentation. “Running, running, running,” from her past, the “perpetual novice” finally trusting that her best efforts won’t be put to waste, as her voice climbs higher and higher.

Final track “Parachute” beckons a jump from heights, a release of fear and embrace of love that lets the wind take us where it may. In concert, Polachek recounts dreams she has of falling high above Los Angeles, a psychadelic dreamscape of visuals swirling behind her.

As Polachek sings, “Closing in on the sparkle of the waves,” we slip past the surface of the ocean. The water is frigid, it’s shocking and breathtaking, but also rejuvenating — suddenly swimming and cutting through the tide, being able to survive what was previously considered fatal.

“Go on, take me, it will feel like going home.” 

If you’re interested in art-pop, electronic and alternative music, or appreciate musicians like Charli XCX, HAIM, Enya and Imogen Heap, “Pang” is a must-listen.

Originally published in The Daily Titan on 10/9/2019.