Summing up
Kelly Lee Owens' solo output to date, her self-titled debut full-length mixes a handful of previously released singles with newer tracks, drifting between dream pop, trip-hop, and atmospheric techno. Rarely does any track stick to one style; they'll often start off detached and tentative before a snapping 4/4 beat kicks in halfway through. The
Jenny Hval-sung "Anxi." does this, starting out as ethereal pop before flipping to thumping minimal techno. "Lucid" sums the album up nicely, beginning with subdued waves of synth strings and
Owens' pleading vocals ("Different from the rest, don't you see it? Somewhere in between, lucid, lucid"). Eventually a ticking beat and arpeggios kick in, and her voice repeating the word "lucid" seem to dissipate into the night air. Some songs are more lyrically focused, while others (such as
Arthur Russell tribute "Arthur") utilize
Owens' soft voice as an instrument. A few exotic instruments color the shadowy synths and sighing vocals, from the tablas of opener "S.O." to the thump pianos of "Bird" to the droning tambura during the cosmic mantra "8" that concludes the album. The record's poppiest moment is "Throwing Lines," which has an oddly sugary vocal melody, but it's set to downcast throbbing. Previously released track "C.B.M." is more propulsive, sticking to a hypnotic minimal groove while
Owens sporadically repeats something about colors, beauty, and motion. "Keep Walking" sounds like a deliberate homage to
Massive Attack's "Teardrop," with a slow, crackling beat and breezy
Elizabeth Fraser-esque vocals.
Owens' album seems a bit scattered and all over the place, but its sense of dream logic is intriguing, and its best moments are captivating.