Into The Pitch With Jessica Pratt

I’ve long thought that Jessica Pratt’s music is the closest we’ll get to hearing what sound was like when we were inside our mothers’ stomachs. Cooing, bubbling, gleaming: Hers is the music of the intrauterine. Pratt plays as though she’s house-training sound itself, singing somewhere in the phonic region where meaning delays itself. Untethered highs and skidding lows, it must have been what the world sounded like in utero.

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