Jackie

This one is seductive in a way that doesn't fully trust itself, and that tension is what makes it remarkable. The production is lush and slightly hazy — synthetic textures, a chorus that feels wide as a sky, drums that hit with the lazy confidence of someone who knows they don't need to hurry. Yves Tumor's voice here is more conventionally beautiful than in some of their more abrasive work, but the beauty has an uncanny edge, like a photograph that is slightly too perfect to be real. The song is about desire and its relationship to image and projection — the way we love versions of people more than the people themselves, the way longing is always partly an act of construction. The title invokes a very specific mythology of femininity, glamour, and reinvention, and the song inhabits that mythology without endorsing or dismantling it, holding the ambiguity open. It feels cinematic in scope without being grandiose. You would reach for it in the blue hour before evening, driving somewhere without particular urgency, with the city unfurling outside the window.