Organos

Organos is the mostly solo outlet of Carrboro’s Maria Albani, and it succeeds by doing everything in a way it seemingly shouldn’t be done. Like a T-shirt that fits better inside out, her music carries a feeling of comfortable inversion. The parts of her quirky bedroom pop are assembled in a way that feels in no part typical, but it all results in compositions that resound with unguarded, reassuring warmth.

Albani began Organos in 2007, when she absconded to the safety of her mother’s Hillsborough home while going through a divorce. Albani has characterized the songs of her solo outing as journal entries; while the comparison is apt in pointing out the work’s very personal nature, it suggests a more formal construction, something Albani eschews at every turn. The other music she’s been a part of—from the whispered pop of the now defunct Un Deux Trois to the buoyant blue-eyed bursts of her current band, Schooner—has often been within the confines of convention. That’s not to say that any of it sounded average, but the melodies and arrangements operated in accepted and familiar ways.

Organos’ songs, cobbled together from fractured odds and ends, mirror Albani’s life at the time the project began. Patient acoustic picking forms the backdrop for woozily acrobatic electronic bits. Singing and strumming suddenly take a back seat to the tinkle of wind chimes. Her songs are a menagerie of porcelain figures, all broken at the same time, their parts mixed up and put back together in ways that are obvious and intriguing.

Though Organos grew from healing, Albani’s style has proven more than just an outburst during dire circumstances. She’s in a happy relationship with Schooner singer Reid Johnson. Things are going well now, but she still manages to create new off-kilter confessions, with a new Organos LP imminent. Somehow, in both her life and her music, Albani has become an expert at putting pieces together. —Jordan Lawrence