St. Vincent, “All Born Screaming.”

Over the past decade, St. Vincent has ventured into all kinds of new sounds—from electro-pop on 2017’s MASSEDUCTION to ‘70s psychedelic rock on 2021’s Daddy’s Home—mastering every single one of them. But her new LP, All Born Screaming, sees a return to form: quirky, guitar-focused, theatrical art rock. And as her first self-produced LP, this is just about the most “St. Vincent” any album could possibly be.

Lead single “Broken Man” was the first sign that singer-songwriter Annie Clark is back to her roots. With industrial distortion and an intense build-up, Clark stays true to the sound that first brought her success while being simultaneously inventive. Featuring Nine-Inch-Nails-tinged percussion and all-out screaming, the song is a thrilling and dynamic display of despair and angst.

Opening number “Hell Is Near” serves as a transition from the psychedelia of Daddy’s Home to the post-apocalyptic rock of All Born Screaming, with a seductively cinematic composition and bass grooves that seamlessly blend Clark’s falsetto into the sonic landscape; it doesn’t sound like she’s singing on top of instruments, but rather her voice is simply a part of the symphony.

Throughout the record, St. Vincent touches on themes of grief, loss and despair. But she never allows the album to reach a state of depression, especially as she comes to terms with the importance of both pain and joy in the short lifespan we’re given.

As a whole, the record is incredibly consistent and coherent, while also allowing each song to bring something new to the table. On “Reckless,” a slow burn of Ethel-Cain-style drawn-out piano notes bursts into an utterly apocalyptic chaos sans any hint of the incoming storm. On “So Many Planets,” an almost tropical guitar refrain accompanies Clark as she searches for where she belongs, singing, “I have to visit so many planets before I find my own.”

Clark’s ingenuity is further exposed with rich, fun brass sections on “Violent Times,” on which she blames the current state of the world—with all of its cruelty and greed—for almost losing sight of someone important. She doesn’t ever seem to take a misstep on the record, and every new or odd thing she throws in works. She doesn’t even let you consider getting bored of her sound, with instrumental twists not only on every new track but every few seconds.

Dave-Grohl-backed “Flea” and funky “Big Time Nothing” are Clark at her most fun: “Sashay, OK sashay” she demands on the latter as if she’s a drag queen living in a time machine that travels from the ‘90s to the apocalypse. On “Flea,” with an absolute ripper of a chorus, she plays with the concept of an almost “Saltburn”-style parasitic obsession: “Drip you in diamonds/ Pour you in cream/ You will be mine for eternity.”

“Sweetest Fruit,” which offers eccentric production, is an ode to the late Sophie, with idiosyncratic instrumentation backing some of the record’s poppiest melodies. Odd synth arpeggios, laser zaps and guitar solos appear one at a time before blending into a mellifluous whole as the song wraps up.

The nearly seven-minute titular outro sees St. Vincent seeming to come to closure with the transience of life. There’s a sudden turn of soundscape halfway through the track that transitions from a fun and reflective environment of guitar motifs to a thumping, electric version of baroque.

In spite of its eclectic distortion and moments of disquietude, All Born Screaming often feels like a joyous celebration of life. But there’s no sense of disconnected juxtaposition—this is simply what Annie Clark’s world looks, feels and sounds like. And fortunately for us, her world sounds really, really good.