Nilüfer Yanya has always thrilled by keeping us guessing. After a handful of EPs that set her up as a King Krule type, fiddling around in a jazzy indie haze, the Londoner’s debut album, 2019’s Miss Universe, built a minor alt-pop classic around, loosely, the concept of a dystopian health corporation and a wellness hotline. Even within that notion, though, it refused to stick to a rigid path, wandering off into indie-rock, house, pop and soul, finding plenty of other anxieties and ideas to explore.
Her second album Painless honed her vision. This one took longer to needle its way under my skin than her debut did, but when it got there, it hooked on and refused to let go. What it lacks in immediacy it more than makes up for in directness, and its after effects linger long past its lean running time. This is a more muscular version of Yanya’s sound, with more space and fewer adornments. She steps up to the challenge of having nowhere to hide, and there is a resolve here that gives the impression of an artist firmly and confidently finding her feet.
