Whenever generations look back on the downward trends and jostled psyches of the post-lockdown 2020s, they might do so while revisiting a cavernous, inactive shopping mall. Once titans of monoculture, then obliterated by two-day timelines, these ransacked husks are reminders of the shuttering divide between commerce, community, and the grey areas that rest between those two nebulous, often opposing ideas.

Like all of us stuck indoors ruminating on every data point beamed into our brains, Cleveland songwriter Molly O’Malley alternated between honing another batch of hooky, textured arrangements and finding eurekas in those liminal betweens. 

As her proper debut, Jeepers Creepers doesn’t announce O’Malley’s presence with hooded eyes or blown self-confidence. With its documentarian approach to sound design and throbbing synth-pop nucleus, the record brims with as much emotional honesty as it does united thematic clarity. Like a beloved mall, Molly’s interior invites listeners to try on different styles: accessorizing a brand of charming vulnerability with chillwave’s porcelain cool, a stripe of urgency from her DIY indie days, and a penchant for melodic drama. Attention shoppers: everything must go.

-J Cassar