Words by: Sam Walker-Smart
Hailing from Omaha, Nebraska, songwriter Anna McClellan crafts achingly fragile songs that pack a satisfying lo-fi punch. Following her 2020 album I saw first light, McClellan returns with Electric Bouquet, featuring 11 enthralling tunes that chronicle the past four years of her life. With a vocal style somewhere between outsider artist Daniel Johnston and Joanna Newsom, she offers a refreshing perspective in the overcrowded indie-folk genre. Each song on this latest release unfolds like a cherished TV show she spent summers watching, complete with a narrative structure.
Things begin with the piano-led track “Jam the Phones,” the album opening with the touching lyric, “If you knew what I would do / Jam the phones to lie with you.” Fortunately for listeners, the following lyrics aren’t all sweet platitudes, with soft-boiled eggs and hocus pocus getting a mention, adding a welcome aura of peculiarity. It’s a beautiful yet unusual love song and is one of the best tracks CONE has had the pleasure of listening to this year. Elsewhere on the record, McClellan leans into a laid-back groove that’ll please Big Thief fans, particularly on the dreamy “Paper Alley” and “Endlessly.” While both tracks are haunting, it’s the moments of weirdness that truly makes Electric Bouquet memorable.
“Like a Painting” evokes the charm of The Moldy Peaches attempting 60s baroque pop, and is all the more charming for its wobbly structure. Intimate, authentic, and somewhat goofy, it exemplifies the album’s less-than-polished appeal. That’s not to say the album is basic, though. It features a vibraphone, organ, and French horn, all adding layers of complexity. Everyday objects also contribute to the project, such as a park bench played percussively on “Co-Stars.” With each spin of the record, you’ll unearth hidden layers, especially on ‘Spechless Hills,’ which revels in a demented circus vibe that would surely please Tom Waits.
On album closer “Dawson’s Creek,” the songwriter recounts childhood days and angst over a catchy toy synth line. The tune has a delightfully twee vibe as McClellan lists vivid descriptions of cereal, teenage love (or lack thereof), DMT, and more. It captures the album’s focus on growth and the cycle of change, illustrating how we all evolve— even through the most common or disappointing moments. With lines like “Sunchips and diet coke / I should be practicing piano,” there’s a wry humor not too dissimilar to Lou Reed’s lyrics with The Velvet Underground.
Based on the strength of Electric Bouquet, it’s a crying shame McClellan isn’t touring with the likes of Waxahatchee. Her songs are rich with character, blending humor, longing, and, at times, heartbreaking truths. There’s something undeniably real and relatable about her music, and that’s where the magic lies. Don’t delay. Give this gem a listen.
CONE Mag Score: 82/100