Lung Bread for Daddy

Houghton’s control is masterful, not just in translating her thoughts and confusion so pristinely into cracking tunes, but this record is testament to just how undersung she is as a musician.

The way every part of Lung Bread for Daddy comes together to create a ragged but ultimately uplifting self-portrait of Du Blonde makes for thrilling listening.

A clumsier artist might turn this self-excoriating streak into something brutally caustic, stripping back the layers until only rawness remains. Houghton resists that impulse on Lung Bread’s later songs, purging her past while leaving her strange, spiky magic intact.

Throughout Lung Bread For Daddy, Du Blonde sounds as if she is constantly on the verge of losing grip of her emotional and mental torment, but because she weaves her feelings and contemplates the woes of her life like someone three times her age, Du Blonde’s latest offering emits surprising clarity and winds up as her most refined work to date.

It's an album full of sadness, mediated by Houghton's sweet instrumentation and voice, heightened by a sense of solitude that permutes the entire record.