From the ethereal mystique of her debut album, Optimism, the open window of a dream thereafter, and now floating her way into the physical realm of our every day mundane in a transfixing, transcendent way, Jana Horn reemerges among the visible world in what can be described as the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Austin songwriter’s most physically tangible listen to date. Still, nothing here around her on her eponymous third studio effort feels truly set in ground, and that’s what continues to make Horn’s spectral sound a captivating spell with the ability to pull you into its wandering undertow.

The out-of-body experience that oft comes with Horn’s ruminations of longing are complimented by the listen’s sparse, somewhat off-kilter construction. Dotted line of acoustic guitars and ebbed rhythm maintain a form of spectral slowcore, though here, it’s more highly contrasted from past journeys inward by the addition of debonaire piano, flute, and clarinet arrangements that wave through you like a warm comfort in the awareness of your otherness. Horn in her own faint, conversationally-stated energy remains a deceptively powerful force in how she moves through her music, leading her body to float like an orb through the alien realms of big city streets while thoughts swirl around her head in circular patterns with no definitive direction.

Let go of your self with it, and you will find that Horn’s out-of-focus reflection doubles as a soft reminder that one can be both of this Earth, and yet, an ambiguous matter that exists beyond its more concrete spaces.

Highlights: “Go on, move your body”, “All in bet”, “Untitled (Cig)”

Jana Horn’s Jana Horn is available now on No Quarter.