Strange Mercy

A former member of the Polyphonic Spree and sometime player with Sufjan Stevens, Texas’ Annie Clark cut a memorable, if slight, dash on 2006’s chamber pop fuzz-fest Marry Me (the title inspired by a catchphrase from cult geek comedy Arrested Development). The ante was raised with 2009’s concept-heavy Actor, wherein she junked some of the wallflower indie-isms and explored the artistic possibilities of atonal melodies and snark-saturated lyrics (somehow minting an album sweet and bitchy in the same heartbeat). All of which feels like a mere appetite-whetter when you slap on Strange Mercy, a noisy, attitudinal collision of East Village art-funk, Sufjan-esque cosmic folk and lush pop kicks. Opener ‘Chloe In The Afternoon’ sets out the record’s manifesto, as moody feedback and squalling guitars give way to half-strangled chorus. It’s bruised and faintly nasty but, for all that, incredibly catchy. Later, Clark takes aim at relationship politics (‘Cruel’), Middle America’s embedded sexism (‘Cheerleader’) and trustafarians in her adopted home of NYC (‘Dilettante’). Poised and artsy it may be, but beneath the avant garde veneer Strange Mercy packs a wallop.