Previous to Psychic Reader, Minneapolis-based trio Bad Bad Hats released a few lo-fi demos via Bandcamp. Along with kazoo solos and rewritten Shania Twain verses came effervescent indie-pop track "Super America". In it, lead vocalist/guitarist Kerry Alexander strolls gas station aisles gazing longingly at its sugary treats, and in the same breath reveals similarly hedonistic desires for her love life: "I want a sweet tea and a heart that won't break.... I want an Icee and a nice boy to date." On the surface , the song seems a bit wide-eyed. But it ends up reflecting how self-serving cravings address our basic human needs—physical and emotional—without satisfying them, and the end result in both cases is empty, whether caloric or romantic.
Psychic Reader builds upon the unconventional structure and sticky melody behind "Super America", but now Alexander's self-aware concerns are less one-dimensional. Her vocals will undoubtedly earn her cursory descriptors like "sweet" or "childlike," but her seeming innocence is belied by her apt songwriting. She's an expert at translating her own experiences into poignant, universal stories. On the bouncy, immediately accessible opener "Midway", Alexander confesses, "I knew that I'd leave you by the middle of June/ You touched me on my shoulder blade, soft like a tomb/ I wanna hear you tell me you don't know what you'll do/ The words you were not saying nearly filled up the room." She speaks with astute cognizance—she's the first to admit her contradictions because she's already come to terms with them.
There are quirky electronic noises sprinkled all over the LP, a sign that Bad Bad Hats are a new band trying things out. The blaring, robotic effects on the caffeinated "Shame" come close to distracting, although they're matched by some appropriately noisy guitar freakouts. On the album's pillowy title track, cooing waves of "oohs" and "aahs" blend in seamlessly with atmospheric, ping-pong-ing synths, a slithering chord progression, and offbeat percussion patterns.
The Hats leap into yet another direction with their least-produced track, "Things We Never Say". If you were to close your eyes, you might think Alexander was singing into your ear, and really, that's the only way to record an acoustic song that's this unnerving. Alexander takes age-old subject matter—unrequited love—and manages to articulate the accompanying swirl of messy emotions without sounding cliché: "You never say you love me, but you never let me fight you/ Can't get you off my mind babe, so I bought this dress to spite you/ I wear it 'cause I hate you, 'cause you don't know what you got/ Then I'll wear it to your house and I'll let you take it off." When she concludes, "I wanna be the one who holds you/ I wanna be the one who says goodnight," it feels less like a plea and more like a liberating declaration.
There's a distinct purity to the cadence of Alexander's voice, one that works to maintain its grip on the record's more experimental tinkerings. The final track, "Spin", sounds like Bad Bad Hats time-traveled from a 1998 alt-rock radio station, pumped full of glossy, uptempo guitars reminiscent of Eve 6 or Gin Blossoms. It's a strange choice, but a catchy chorus and fatalistic lyrics give the song a sweet-and-sour appeal and charming enthusiasm. The band's fluctuations from track to track aren't entirely unexpected—this is their debut full-length after all—nor are they unwelcome. However, their capricious inclinations wouldn't be able to hold their own without Alexander's visceral songwriting. This is where Psychic Reader's nuances are buried, within her complex perspective that's at once clever, fresh, and earnest.
