Tuesday Faust

Singer-songwriter Tuesday Faust is one of Portland’s best-kept secrets, but she won’t be for long. Faust’s debut record Killed The Cat weds the twee whimsy of quintessential jangle-pop bands like the Sundays and Velocity Girl to the unflinching lyrical candor of emo-folk bards Elliott Smith and Conor Oberst. The result is a collection of songs that are both sunny and sad, refulgent and melancholic—like bruises concealed by lipstick smiles and dollops of foundation.

The first thing you notice about Faust is her knack for turning a phrase. (See: “If it’s raining ice outside / I guess I’ll pay the price, it’s fine / And if it’s raining fire / That’ll just make things exciting,” and that’s in the very first song.) The second thing you notice is that nobody is spared by Faust’s scorn; throughout Killed the Cat’s 9 songs, the songwriter indicts everyone from former besties to her own father. Faust’s sweet melodies and mumble-mouth vocals are sure to endear Killed the Cat to the indie zeitgeist—but in a genre characterized by oppressive positivity and disingenuous sentimentality, it’s her silver-tongued wordplay and shamelessly judgmental streak that’s bound to set her apart.