Wed 21

With five years between Wed 21 and Juana Molina’s last album, Un Dia, one might expect a jarring stylistic shift or new direction. Fans of the Argentinian alt-rock musician will find not just a thread of continuity here, but an even more robust expression of the artist’s craft. Songs thrum and hum; loops of acoustic guitar notes and braided vocal parts envelope listeners in an intimate cocoon of artisanal nü-folk. Molina’s delicate whispered coos make great bedfellows to the subtle washes of woozy synths and percussion inflected with a Brazilian spice. What keeps Molina’s music from being sweet, predictable, or pure folk is her kind of wild-card aesthetic: it's not too far from that of Wildbirds & Peacedrums or the punky folker Micachu. There’s a jazzy element, a playful mix of ideas, and a boldness to Molina's work. But every part is there for a reason; every tonal twist or dash of sour or bittersweet is carefully planned. Wed 21 is smart and a bit addictive, and it may send some non–Spanish speakers to nearby classrooms to learn how to sing along.