, the Ohio-born, Oakland-based singer/songwriter joked about their inclination to use the uncommon quintuple meter in their music, noting it felt like an “inherent rhythm.” Much of Maria BC’s past work—on their 2021 EP—covered long-forgotten memories and unknown futures, told in staggered downbeats and ghostly, floating phrases.
But this isn’t a polished record, nor does it want to be—throughout, you can hear the doubling of Maria BC’s voice just a millisecond off of each other, creating the tiniest of echoes that could persist eternally. Likewise on “Haruspex,” a dusty blue-collar lament on bodily sacrifice, conflicting guitar licks run through each other but never in competition, reflecting the many worries that a physical form carries: “Is my body right?” Maria BC wonders among the sound of metallic rattling.