Cassis Orange

Carrboro's Cassis Orange is named after one hell of a bold drink, a high-powered collision of opposing flavors. It's two parts crème de cassis, a dark, potently sweet liqueur born from blackcurrants. It's quite rich, syrupy to the point of near overkill. The other five parts are simple orange juice, adding a tart counterbalance to the cocktail, pulling it away from overindulgence with a bittersweet, everyday flavor. Autumn Ehinger named her recording project for the popular Japanese beverage she enjoyed while living in Japan a few years ago; the bitterly bruised, yet shockingly sweet lo-fi techno pop she's making more than lives up to the name.

After graduating from University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill in 2006, Ehinger moved constantly, making stops in Japan to teach English, Arizona to work at a national park and Virginia to take part in an archaeological dig. She’s been back in town for a little over a year, and appropriately, her songs play out like a travelogue of battered feelings from a life on the road. On her self-recorded EP, the arrangements are simple to the point of profundity: Tense, pounding beats crackle out of a Casio keyboard Santa brought to her when she was seven. Her crude drumming erupts with misfires and skips. Charming chirps light from the synths that play in the higher register, fighting through shrill static.

These days, her live line-up is frequently a four-piece featuring Bowerbirds and Midtown Dickens player Will Hackney on bass and Old Bricks/Motor Skills member Christoper Hutcherson-Riddle holding down the drums. They polish up the affair, but Cassis Orange still finds its strength in rough, punchy bouts of bad memories. —Jordan Lawrence