Julia Holter: Something in the Room She Moves review – the best track is the simplest

Celebrated LA-based composer Julia Holter’s last outing, 2018’s 90-minute Aviary, tried to reproduce the cognitive dissonance of living in recent times, harnessing medieval Occitan, bagpipes and a polyphony of other instruments to capture the restlessness of the mind. Six years on, Something in the Room She Moves is no less ambitious in its intent – to encapsulate presence and transformation – but feels more approachable. Beauty, rather than overstimulation, is foregrounded, with flutes and Holter’s own silken voice establishing airiness throughout these 10 tracks. The pandemic, new motherhood and the death of her young nephew are the contexts for this new work, which remixes a Beatles title to emphasise female agency.

Tracks such as Sun Girl confirm that Holter hasn’t entirely dispensed with pop, a talent evident on 2015’s Have You in My Wilderness. But here, the melodics are blithe and woozy, with Sun Girl recalling the mantric, 21st-century psychedelia of Animal Collective, and Spinning combining hydraulic beats and jazz flute with a chorus that tries but fails to nail down the ineffable. A plethora of found sounds and jazz inflections keep everything compelling. But the hovering, sustained and gliding elements miss the brave sensory overload of Aviary and the pop nous of Wilderness. The best track is the simplest: Meyou, a warped, minimal vocal meditation.