Ever since Carmen Villain transitioned from shoegazing indie rocker to ambient composer in the late 2010s, her music has become increasingly untethered from concepts of logic and linearity, and with her fifth album, she ventures even deeper into the abyss. Memoria takes its inspiration from electronic-music innovator Pauline Oliveros’ writings on sound and memory, and its tracks unspool like a mind drifting from one random thought to the next: The stalking dub-techno pulse of “Entre Nosotros” gradually dissolves into a misty drizzle of jazzy piano improvisation; “Holding a Shape” does anything but, its hissy beats prodding and punching like a cat trying to claw its way out of a bag. But at times, Villain makes her greatest strides in stillness, as she slowly weaves the trembling clarinet drones of “Hope Synapses” into a heavenly surge that hits like a biblical burst of light breaking through the clouds.