She soon plugs in for the grungy title track, which delivers four-limb rock drums and layers of churning guitars and bass.
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An echoing, rhythmic piano intro opens the prelude-like first track, "April Fool," which adds bass, acoustic guitar, four-on-the-floor kick drum, synthesized string voices, and more without encroaching on Vu's resigned vocal delivery as she wonders how to say or do the right thing in any given moment. Her most consistent set to this point, its wounded indie rock wrangles graceful acoustic elements, darkly distorted guitars, dreamy reverb, and pulsing dance beats, in turn and often together. Named for the storage units that held various family possessions through multiple childhood moves around Los Angeles, it was recorded with Day Wave's Jackson Phillips, who also plays on and mixed the album. It doubles as her Ghostly International label debut. Now entering her twenties, Vu worked with an outside co-producer for the first time on her full-length debut, Public Storage.
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At least we get to enjoy the music.Hana Vu rose to self-recorded indie prominence with her uniquely alienated and overcast, grooving earworms on a series of gradually more elaborate EPs beginning in her early teens. “I can’t believe I’m here at all / All life is weak and shall be lost,” Vu sings on “Aubade,” a reminder that the human experience is pretty absurd. Even the art seems to hint at the fact that, like the album, our bodies themselves are simply a peculiar type of storage. “I’m not alive I’m just inside / I’ve got my things, I’m all tucked in,” she sings on “I Got.” The album cover, as well as the art for the singles, are graced with close-up (and somewhat unnerving) photos of human body parts: the inside of a mouth, a discolored ear, a kohl-rimmed eye padded by its blood-red tissue. Loneliness, disappointment, feeling misunderstood-all of Vu’s meditations get put away into the containers of her songs on Public Storage. Vu’s moody, rich vocal tone adds to the enchantment, and on tracks like “My House” and “Everybody’s Birthday,” her words seem to drip with intrigue and old Hollywood glamour. On the Sufjan Stevens–esque track “Maker,” Vu murmurs, “Maker meet your super / Meet your lover / Meet your loser / What’s your number / I’m a 3-letter word like you.” The looping rhymes have an enchanting effect. Vu’s simple-but-poetic lyrics have been a consistent strength throughout her discography. Her voice is loud and clear, and the song is anthemic: “On my word / Kick me up from the gutter to the curb,” she sings to fuzzy, punk riffs. Guitar feedback kicks off the next track, “Gutter,” and it sounds as if Vu has shaken off a haze for the first time on the album. While there aren’t any weak links on Public Storage, “Keeper” is an obvious standout with a punchy beat and marks the turn of the record’s notable second half. “Nothing comes easy / Do you believe in family / Because I don’t think that I do,” Vu sings defiantly on the title track. Many of the songs on Public Storage contain eerie undertones, and listening to them feels like walking alone at night.
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