10 Songs, 27 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

“We all get lost, but we all come back,” Crumb’s Lila Ramani sings on the title track to Jinx, providing a succinct mission statement for one of 2019’s most bewitching indie-rock debuts. The New York-via-Boston quartet douse their songs in luxuriant Dark Side of the Moon Safari atmosphere, but a taut, in-the-pocket rhythm section and Ramani’s velveteen voice serve as beacons that guide you through the haze. Jinx conjures the sensation of drifting through a dream that’s equally nostalgic and unnerving, with Ramani’s dazed delivery falling somewhere between resigned and restless. On “Ghostride,” she blithely details the ennui-inducing minutiae of a long road trip as a metaphor for being trapped in a dysfunctional relationship, sheepishly admitting, “The radio reminds me I’m alive.” But Crumb isn't afraid to disrupt their hypnotic reveries with abrupt shifts in course—"Part III” begins as a blissfully narcotic Stereolab sway, before coming to a dead stop and free-falling into a psychedelic jazz abyss. “It’s just a feeling,” Ramani repeats just as she’s about to disappear into the void, but Jinx’s ambiguous beauty lies in the fact that you’re never exactly sure how you should be feeling.

EDITORS’ NOTES

“We all get lost, but we all come back,” Crumb’s Lila Ramani sings on the title track to Jinx, providing a succinct mission statement for one of 2019’s most bewitching indie-rock debuts. The New York-via-Boston quartet douse their songs in luxuriant Dark Side of the Moon Safari atmosphere, but a taut, in-the-pocket rhythm section and Ramani’s velveteen voice serve as beacons that guide you through the haze. Jinx conjures the sensation of drifting through a dream that’s equally nostalgic and unnerving, with Ramani’s dazed delivery falling somewhere between resigned and restless. On “Ghostride,” she blithely details the ennui-inducing minutiae of a long road trip as a metaphor for being trapped in a dysfunctional relationship, sheepishly admitting, “The radio reminds me I’m alive.” But Crumb isn't afraid to disrupt their hypnotic reveries with abrupt shifts in course—"Part III” begins as a blissfully narcotic Stereolab sway, before coming to a dead stop and free-falling into a psychedelic jazz abyss. “It’s just a feeling,” Ramani repeats just as she’s about to disappear into the void, but Jinx’s ambiguous beauty lies in the fact that you’re never exactly sure how you should be feeling.

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