Light years removed from her early harsh-whisper-to-raw-scream dynamic, this revered indie queen is all about Memphis-spawned, pure-as-honey pools like "The Moon." It is a luminous lunar ode consisting of a single recycling full-bodied guitar motif, reverb-haloed and orbited by Marshall's spectral, just-this-side-of-hoarse queries: "When they put me six feet underground/Will the big, bad you still be around?" The answer will always be yes, but tumbling from these lips, the question seems worth posing anyway.
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