Floreat

It’s no wonder that this record was a) signed by a major label, because Mara Carlyle’s voice, songwriting and arrangements are world class, ridiculously memorable and, in theory, radio friendly, and b) later shelved by EMI, forcing her to wrangle for three years to get it out independently — because it is, under its sweet surface, a terrifyingly dark and disturbing record. Carlyle is capable of capturing the most intense moments of all-consuming love, as on the swooning “Nuzzle” and “Bowlface en Provence” here. But just as much, she writes about obsession, long-term pain, and — on the deceptively jaunty “Weird Girl” — the way abusive relationships instill self-abasement in a person. There is strength, redemption, solidarity and a lot of love and sensuality in this album, but you’d better be ready to take in the unflinchingly dark parts too as they are part of the package.