Sprinter

Oft compared to PJ Harvey, Mackenzie Scott aka. Torres, on her the sophomore album, feels more like Sharon Van Etten by way of Cobain. If you can’t hear the Nirvana influence in the delivery of the bone-breaking opening track “Strange Hellos”, then you’re trying too hard to not notice. Others compare this to Hole (you’d have to be a special kind of obtuse to find Hole worthwhile, but that's besides the point). The difference here is not only is “Sprinter” actually listenable, it’s memorable. These are fiercely honest lyrics from an empowered wise-beyond-her-years woman, elevating Scott to the Marling and Van Etten class, young artists filled with so much internal wisdom and sheer talent. This is a record to constantly return to for its deeply personal messages alone, so the dynamic, and utterly essential, instrumentation sometimes takes a back seat on the first (second, fourth, ninth) listen, but repeat spins are continually rewarding. It’s not a particularly sunny record, but consider it a counterpoint to the male dominated tell-all that was Father John Misty’s “I Love You, Honeybear”. Editorial declaration: 2015 is the year of the postmodern musical autobiography.