After nearly a decade in the psych-rock group Quilt, Rochinski offers a bold, buoyant debut that mingles propulsive riffs with off-kilter instrumentation and lyrics that make heartbreak and disillusionment sound like a party.
On her bold debut solo album Cherry, Anna Fox Rochinski makes heartbreak and disillusionment sound like a party, full of psychedelic rock guitar riffs, earworm bass lines and shiny pop vocals. The result is sometimes chaotic but ultimately fun, like having a conversation on a crowded dance floor about your place in the universe—you may not remember what you talked about later, but you remember how you felt.
That cacophony is especially tantalizing on the title track “Cherry,” which begins with 30 seconds of bubbling synths that sound like an extraterrestrial language before Rochinski sings: “How did I get so obsessive?/Watching me spiral on and on/They just say, ‘that’s too bad.’” The track builds to a climax of dissonant notes, bell dings, cymbal clashes, and synths, bringing to mind Robyn fronting Parquet Courts. It’s not immediately obvious what the bridge “Cherry til I die/ Cherry in my eye” means, but you’re too busy nodding along to care.
Cherry is full of propulsive guitar riffs that recall psychedelic rock bands of the ’10s like Temples, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, or Quilt, of which Rochinski was a member for nearly a decade. But on Cherry, Rochinski uses synths, marimbas, and keys to send shockwaves through those riffs, making playful, buoyant music that doesn’t take itself, or anything, too seriously. On “High Board” she explores existentialism, singing in a gooey ’80s pop timbre: “Does it even really matter?/ What are we ever after, what if we get something better?” before a robotic voice speak-sings what sounds like a line from a Twilight Zone script over dazed, space-age synths.
But for all the playful instrumentation on Cherry, there’s also a lot of precision and control. The comparatively sparse instrumentation of the ballad “No Better” showcases Rochinski’s slight vibrato and expansive vocal range, before the song cascades into a sitar-like psych-rock riff, moving from pop to psychedelia like a magician pulls a rabbit from a hat. Rochinski cherry-picks instruments and genres on a seemingly granular level: an ’80s synth for one measure, a steely ’60s guitar strum for another, leaving the impression that every single sound is there for a reason.
The beauty of Cherry is that it doesn’t require a close listen to enjoy its tact and playfulness. You may not remember if Rochinski gets anything she yearns for, if any hurt is mended, or if any questions are answered, but you leave with her cooing voice and head-bobbing bass lines permanently etched into your skull. It’s like not knowing where to focus while watching a meteor shower — in a brief span of time, so much is dazzling.
Buy: Rough Trade
PopSpotlight