Guitarist and experimental searcher Kryssi Battalene was already years into her craft when she formed Headroom, having put in time with the solo project Colorguard as well as playing in Mountain Movers, Heaven People, Medication, and other acts associated with New Haven, Connecticut's fruitful outsider music scene. Much like earlier low-key cassette and online releases, the debut full-length Head in the Clouds finds Battalene's sprawling and multifaceted guitar voyaging at the center of its songs, stretching out into territories both caustic and comforting as the album drifts from song to song. First track "How to Grow Evil Flowers" starts from nothing, the band already in full swing on a meditative groove with harsh, tremolo-soaked guitar sitting high in the mix. It winds on for nearly ten minutes, with squalls of fuzz and swampy noise growing and receding on top of a dirgy Kraut-blues riff before settling into a messy, spent ending. This approach shows up again on the uptempo number "The Second Blazing Star," with Battalene's mind-melting guitar tones guiding her band through a repetitive improvisation, riding the line between a blissful liftoff into unknown galaxies and a terrifying bad trip for its entire eight-minute duration. Mellower songs like "Millers Pond" and "Flower of Light" bury vocals beneath the waves of guitar noise, bringing to mind the brightest moments from early Kranky Records acts like Jessamine and Bowery Electric, but upending the gentle tendencies of those space rock bands with blistering lead guitar that would sound at home in Neil Young's feedback-laden Arc Weld era. Across the five tracks on Head in the Clouds, Headroom's true gift is their masterful ability to blur their various stylistic impulses with a pleasant sheen of noise without losing control and finding the melodic aspects overpowered by dissonance. This balance of chaos and songcraft makes for dynamic and even urgent-feeling songs that could read as monotonous jams from a lesser group. The album ends with a long, pronounced blast of guitar feedback, and this feels almost like a declaration that every squelch of noise, every reverb-doused vocal, and every near-breakdown we just heard was a deliberate, confident choice.