Closing a quadrilogy that began with her 2017 self-titled debut, L'Rain’s latest is built almost entirely from things slippery enough to avoid efforts to define them

While her arc culminates somewhat open-endedly, Cheek’s fluid inner world is always fascinating to behold

On fata morgana, L’Rain continues to move in a lane all her own

Co-produced with frequent collaborators Ben Chapoteau-Katz and Andrew Lappin, along with appearances from other musicians including Cibo Matto's Yuka Honda, the album often feels dreamier and more nebulous than other L'Rain albums

The experimental Brooklyn project returns with a serene and spectral new album, using an ever-shifting musical backdrop to explore themes of illusion and doubt

fata morgana never quite lets its feelings settle into one shape. A song can be funny until it isn’t, intimate until it becomes abrasive, beautiful until another layer of sound threatens to swallow it whole

A hard album to grasp initially, fata morgana might be much, much more visionary than people will initially realise, precisely because the language to describe it is still inconceivable to many

Taja Cheek constructs sonic realms that feel both tactile and freeform, a melding that assumes the spectral character of an optical illusion