Singer-songwriter Miya Folick set out to self-produce a straightforward indie pop record and has largely succeeded with her new third album, Erotica Veronica. It opens with its almost-title track (“Erotica”). A spooky piano motif over ominous orchestral backing introduces the song. Just as you think Folick is going to go full on X-Files, she sings, “How’d we get here / Such a tender kiss / Now you’re drinking coffee / With a serial monogamist.”
Before long, you’ve got an infectious pop tune in your ears, as Folick, over insistently strummed acoustic guitars, fantasizes about flirting “with a girl in broad daylight on the street” and notes that “My sensual proclivities / Fuel your anxiety.” “Erotica” sets listeners up perfectly for a record that explores the reaches of sensual desire from many angles, all within a series of enticing indie pop melodies.
During the second track, a gradually unfolding ballad called “La Da Da”, Folick channels Dolores O’Riordin or maybe Sinéad O’Connor in her vocals as she observes, “Got a woman on my mind now / And a man waiting at home.”
Meanwhile, in the semi-anthemic “Alaska”, Folick ponders the permanence of a relationship, even as she feels relatively assured that her lover will still be there when she gets home. Along the way, she remembers “the first time I took a shower in your house / We were only friends then / I was nervous to be naked with you / Somewhere on the other side of the door.”
Elsewhere on Erotica Veronica, Folick confronts the importance of honest expression on “Felicity”. The most ethereal track finds Folick’s voice floating over a bed of synthesizers, a flute, a sax, piano, guitar, and even that standby from many Moody Blues records, a Mellotron.
“Fist” continues the theme of expressing emotions, but with specific attention to potentially angry or hurtful feelings. “I punch myself in the face with my own little fist”, Folick sings, “Then I collapse into you.” “This Time Around”, a devastating account of a relationship on the verge of collapse, seems to contain the lyric around which Erotica Veronica revolves: “The pulsing in my chest sorta feels like desire.”
Throughout Erotica Veronica, Folick admirably balances her lyrical introspection with an engaging array of musical styles. In addition to the ballads and pop tunes already mentioned, “Prism of Light” and “Hypergiant” bound along with catchy techno pulses, while “Hate Me” has a somewhat harder rock feel.
The last two songs combine to create an ambiguous resolution. The penultimate track, “Love Wants Me Dead”, doesn’t appear to present much hope for the protagonist. Then, in the enigmatic final ballad, “Light Through the Linen”, Folick sings, “So you don’t know what I’m asking / Or you think I have no right / To want more than is customary / To feel like I’m alive,” though seeing the light through the linen seems to suggest some resolution or transcendence. Miya Folick will continue to create intriguing music grounded in how she and all of us experience and process desire.