Phoebe Bridgers, Garden Song.

The steep ascent of Phoebe Bridgers really has been something to behold, and for a 25-year-old, the Californian has quite the colourful musical curriculum vitae to her name already: since the release of her celebrated début album, Stranger in the Alps, she has subsequently collaborated with both Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus (as boygenius), and Conor Oberst (together, Better Oblivion Community Center). But such is the intimacy which is intrinsic to her work that, perhaps unsurprisingly, she’s at her most impactive when left to her own devices, and Garden Song goes to show precisely this.

Beginning amidst a fug of unsettling atmospherics reminiscent of earliest Godspeed You! Black Emperor, it’s 20-or-so seconds before this clears, and a trademarkedly stake-like acoustic take makes a beeline for your atria and ventricles. There’s a lo-fi, fuzzy quality to it, which is wonderfully offset by Bridgers’ crystalline vocal. “Someday, I’m gonna live in your house up on the hill/ And when your skinhead neighbour goes missing, I’ll plant a garden in the yard,” she begins in typically evocative tone. Later, loose social commentary (“when I grow up, I’m gonna look up from my phone and see my life”) takes oneiric twists and turns, involving adjourned “dorm room” trysts and such, before she concludes with the exceptionally sardonic quip: “The doctor put her hands over my liver/ She told me my resentment’s getting smaller.” But on this sort of evidence, Phoebe Bridgers will only be getting bigger in terms of repute as time passes by…

Garden Song is available now via Dead Oceans.