Sucker's Lunch

It is a slow burning album, with Kenney’s immaculate voice and curious instrumentals drawing the listener through her complicated maze of emotion. As the listener draws back the layers of glassy melodies and discordant edges, one finds an intimate testament to love’s inherent contradictions.

On Sucker’s Lunch, Kenney presents each song with a fervor only teased on previous outings and she has never sounded more compelling. It will be exciting to see how she continues to shape her sound and identity going forward, but for now, at least, she has served up a delightful feast of music to keep us satiated until that day arrives.

Transmutation is the enduring lesson of Kenney’s small catalogue so far: Turn life’s impasses into empathetic rock songs, little anthems for overcoming self-renewing heartache and exhaustion and anxiety. On Sucker’s Lunch, Kenney gets closer to the core of that idea than ever before thanks to sharper writing, stronger hooks, a versatile voice, and a continued partnership with friends who allow her to try new approaches.

Her hit rate is a tad more consistent here than it was on Perfect Shapes. It won’t be the most memorable outing you hear this year, but if you’re reading this in anything approaching a wistful funk, there’s a decent chance Sucker’s Lunch might be exactly what your mood calls for.

If there's no happy ending for the heroine, the album still satisfies with its artful balance of meditation and catharsis.