The second full-length from the Sian Alice Group on Social Registry is a logical extension of its 59.59 debut. Troubled, Shaken Etc is equally ambitious, yet it’s much more deeply focused as a recording than its predecessor. Vocalist/songwriter Sian Ahern and her London-based sextet have carefully constructed this 13 track, 53-minute set to draw the listener down into a hushed, deceptively minimal soundworld that paradoxically demands the listener’s attention albeit graciously. The whispering repetitive guitars, marimbas, and piano on “Love That Moves the Sun” create a sparkling, shimmering sonic beauty before she begins singing. Her voice is so lithe and slight that the listener, seduced by the song’s atmosphere, is compelled to listen with concentration to every word. This is followed by the slightly darker, droning, yet no less gorgeous “Airlock,” that in some ways is reminiscent of Yo La Tengo’s attempt at atmospheric pop. But the song unfolds so much more tentatively and deliberately that when a muted trumpet enters about a minute in, it’s as if the listener expected it all along, as it introduces the rest of the subtle surprises in the track. The melody in “Through Air Over Water” touches on the band’s fascination with the British folk of Fairport Convention, but it is also graced by the dark kiss of the early Velvet Underground. But the surprises aren’t all subtle. The all-too-brief “Longstrakt” carries within it a groove that recalls both the Motorik Krautrock of Neu! as well as the percussive — and progressive — heaviness of Pierre Moerlen’s Gong. “Close to the Ground” is its mirror image: over seven minutes in length — making it the longest entry here — it walks a line between droning free folk, retro-psych worship, Lindsey Buckingham’s more adventurous melodic moments, and the indie experimental feel of the Fuck Buttons. “Vanishing” is a funky, spacy, psychedelic rock tune with soul-jazz breakbeats. The bottom line is Troubled, Shaken Etc is an album: paced, sequenced, structured, and produced as such. It’s utterly lovely, feminine, and subtly adventurous. The listener is given a soft, quiet, sonic bedroom and allowed to dwell in there, a mental place where time is suspended and the outside world vanishes entirely, for close to an hour. – Thom Jurek