Jack Tatum makes music as Wild Nothing and sounds about as removed from his home of Blacksburg, Va., as one could imagine. As he sounds a bit like a blend of Cocteau Twins and Atlas Sound, the songs on his full-length debut, Gemini, are mostly willowy and ethereal, but they’re tethered to a sturdy and sinewy backbone. “Chinatown” waltzes through a timeless, misty tableaux of wispy vocals and plucky guitars, with a faint verse/chorus/verse skeleton, while tracks like the plucky and fantastically sticky “Summer Holiday” and “Our Composition Book” have a jangly melancholy the evokes Johnny Marr and The Smiths. Tatum uses his charmingly imperfect falsetto on “Confirmation,” darting in and out of hazy keyboards and shyly bubbling guitar and bass lines. His voice takes on a darker, flatter intonation on songs like the murky “Pessimist” and the bittersweet “Live in Dreams.” Gemini is a beautiful, aural space that’s great for getting lost in. It sometimes feels like a record Ariel Pink might make if one day all the weird drained out of him.

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