Songs We Love: Florist, 'White Light Doorway' New intimate Crayola-colored confession from Emily Sprague and her band of twee indie-pop merry men.

Songs We Love: Florist, 'White Light Doorway'

'White Light Doorway'

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Florist. Stephanie Griffin/Courtesy of the artist hide caption

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Stephanie Griffin/Courtesy of the artist


Stephanie Griffin/Courtesy of the artist

There is something about Emily Sprague's voice that both transcends twee indie-pop clichés even as it revels in them. The songs she writes for Florist — an Upstate New York quartet which recently decamped for the bright lights of Brooklyn, and is part of The Epoch collective alongside artists such as Eskimeaux – communicate the youthful discovery of self, sans filters. Or at least that's what Sprague's intimate-beyond-comfort, speak-singing voices makes it all sound like. It features something like a mix of Kim Gordon's fierce detachment, Peggy Lee's light-headed self-destruction, and the whimsy of all the narrators in Belle & Sebastian songs.

The Birds Outside Sang cover.
Courtesy of the artist

One verse of the barely two-minutes-long "White Light Doorway," a great tune from the group's upcoming full-length debut, The Birds Sang Outside, includes lines that seem simply ridiculous, the actions of a semi-competent mumblecore actress going for grand allegory and failing. Yet next to lyrics that touch upon a diary-like exploration of spiritual yearning, and sung over a lonely, fuzzed-out electric guitar and a kick-drum, it's not silly at all. Forget poetry or narrative, this is confession as a mix of children's therapy and religion, one that comes outlined in Crayola colors. That the song ends so quickly makes it feel even more honest and gratifying, speeding you back to press "Rewind" or to see what other unlikely thing might happen.

The Birds Sang Outside is out on Jan. 29 on Double Double Whammy