Listening to The Concussive Caress feels much like listening to the soundtrack of an amiable, slightly goofy independent short film that focuses more on reflective states of mind than a plot. Khaela Maricich, who recorded and produced this album herself (with guest appearances by half a dozen friends), gets a lot from a little, using moody, pulsating lo-fi electronic tones and rhythms to back her ruminations, which strike a balance between the wistful and the matter of fact. In some respects it’s like listening to one-half of a disjointed telephone conversation, with top-of-the-head-sounding lyrics that often yearn for or comment on intimacy, romantic or otherwise. It’s not all electronic, with well-placed interjections of piano and strings, and it’s not as inaccessible as the above description might make it out to be, as Maricich’s tunes and vocal delivery have a light singalong feel. In spirit this is akin to an early-21st century continuation of the angularity of the Raincoats and the spare electro-rock burbles of the Young Marble Giants. Yet there’s more of an isolated, bouncing-around-a-desert-cave feel to the Blow’s oddness, though at its peak, as on “Gravity (Pauline’s Response to Amy)” and “The Warriors’ Hearts,” it evokes both throbbing passion and morning-after-the-bomb melancholy. – Richie Unterberger