Kimya Dawson

Childlike and slightly disturbed drawings of Kimya Dawson talking to assorted monsters, robots, ghosts and prehistoric animals appear on the cover of her fifth solo outing, offering a good clue as to what’s inside. Simple melodies imprint themselves on the brain after a single listen, with Dawson’s speedy, girlish, half-spoken, half-sung delivery washing over in a jumble of disjointed images that almost causes wooziness. “My Mom,” which addresses the germs infecting her dying mother’s body, somehow manages to be playful and achingly poignant. Similarly, on “Underground” Dawson muses about lost love, unwed motherhood and mortality, singing: I tattoo instructions on my ass that say, “Don’t ever put this body in a casket/Burn it and put the ashes in a basket. “ The effect is touching, humorous and liberating. Dawson’s style is slightly amateurish, but there’s a fierce intelligence working behind the naïve façade. If you like witty wordplay and undisguised emotion served up baby-naked and starry-eyed, this one’s for you.