Molly Sarlé is fearlessly honest on her acoustic epic “Twisted”

Teased from Molly Sarlé's upcoming debut album Karaoke Angel, we’ve already been introduced to “Human”, a song about idealising romantic interests and “Suddenly”, about post-coital grilled cheese. On “Twisted”, a sparse thrum and a few notes ask “is it enough?” It’s its own folk mutant of sorts: a strikingly delicate vocal line projected against a nylon-stringed potency. It recalls the softer soul-searching punches of Laura Marling’s Once I Was An Eagle, but with an organic earthiness that feels largely free from revision.

In the accompanying video directed by Megan Lovallo, Sarlé ponders peacefully in the middle of yellow wildflowers and meadow shrubs in California. It’s an image that haunts with a preternatural wisdom of a nightclub runaway turned windswept Brontë heroine. The hypnotic immersion that we’re already accustomed to in Sarlé’s solo world unfolds with a dusky murmur: “I know who I am and I’ll never get used to it.” It’s a closing sentence of weakness and defeat – a declaration of redundancy with a peculiar cathartic prowess.