Tamaryn - Cranekiss

Pitchfork 74

Tamaryn’s Cranekiss is a big step for the project, a move out of the denser shoegaze thickets of Tender New Signs and The Waves into a pure, sugary dream-pop world. It features the kind of glossy production made popular in the 1980s and '90s by John Fryer of This Mortal Coil in his myriad productions for 4AD, Mute, and Beggars Banquet—Cocteau Twins, Xmal Deutschland, Clan of Xymox, Chapterhouse. Tamaryn herself is the only constant between her past two albums and this one, changing instrumental personnel (here she works with Shaun Durkan of Weekend) and production credits (Jorge Elbrecht of Violens, who has also worked with Ariel Pink and No Joy) from her previous incarnation.

No longer competing for sonic space with a heavy wash of guitar, Tamaryn’s voice, even drenched in reverb, becomes the focus. There are serious pop hooks on this record—opener "Cranekiss" has a chorus that will alight inside your skull, flutter its wings a bit, and set to making a nest—and her voice sounds much less constrained, more ebullient and full, than on previous recordings. Many of the songs on Cranekiss are about uncompromising female desire from varying perspectives (the first single "Hands All Over Me" and "Softcore", which samples both porn simulacra of female orgasms and the peep show scene from Paris, Texas, stand out), a joyous thing in and of itself, and the theme of Cranekiss overall seems to be freedom, expansion, exploration.

There are moments when Cranekiss seems a little too hewn to the '80s and '90s ethereal/goth sound it’s an obvious homage to—the sonic Cocteau Twins references throughout the first half of the record can sound a little heavy-handed, and any of the tracks would have fit in seamlessly on the classic Hyperium Records Heavenly Voices compilation. There is value in exploring the particular styles that made you fall head-over-heels for music in the first place, though, and while Cranekiss hardly breaks new ground it has a sense of playfulness to it, a sort of sparkling and infectious enthusiasm. Tamaryn has said that making this album was a "very, very pleasurable, inspiring, fun experience unlike anything I’ve ever done before," and that’s palpable upon hearing it.

Amid all the swirl and shimmer, there are some tracks that feel more rooted—"Fade Away Slow", a goth taffy-pull of a song near the close of the album, probably has the most low end on an album that likes to pull away from the earth overall. It unwinds deliciously, unpeeling layers of itself to nearly break down before spinning into a lovely bridge and a recall chorus. Because some of the tracks are so airy, a call down to close out the record, like closing out a ritual, seems like a necessary respite.

Cranekiss firmly establishes Tamaryn’s pop songwriting chops. It also indicates a willingness to play with new instrumentation—the synths, drum triggers, and sampling are all new to Tamaryn's palette—and a willingness to play with established style and form. It's a beautiful, heavily textured, highly sensual record, heady sugar on the tongue.