When Tor Maries released her self-titled debut album as Billy Nomates during the depths of the COVID-19 global pandemic, her timing was as unfortunate as it was apt. Her cathartic litanies against classism, sexism, hustle culture, and liberal hypocrisy confronted the issues that came to a head during that time, but not everyone who needed to hear her message got the chance to. Nearly every song on Billy Nomates was an outburst, and even on the quieter songs, the stakes felt stratospheric. Wisely, Maries doesnt try to re-create that relentless focus on Cacti. Instead, she takes a breath and delivers a more personal take on how to survive in a hostile environment. As on her 2021 EP Emergency Telephone, which hinted at this more emotional and sonically detailed approach, she doesnt miss a trick when it comes to the politics of relationships. "The love I have for you is enemy number one/When you have no idea how the damage is done" she sings on "Saboteur Forcefield," one of many songs where the musics rounded edges reveal lyrics that cut deeper than ever. Indeed, Maries pithy way with words and sympathetic yet sharp-eyed storytelling on songs like "Black Curtains in the Bag" place her closer to the 21st centurys finest singer/songwriters than to her supposed peers in the U.K. post-punk scene. Like her other releases, Maries recorded much of Cacti at home, but the albums fuller, glossier sound lets her widen her range. Brash, pointed rock is still one of her finest modes, and when she sings "dont you act like I aint the f*ckin man" on the triumphant standout "Spite," she makes pettiness feel like a virtue. However, the other styles she explores deliver just as many thrills. She uses 80s synth pop imaginatively on "Cacti," evoking Stevie Nicks and Laura Branigan in its melodramatic isolation, and on "Balance Is Gone," where ricocheting tones express her emotional whiplash. On "Fawner," she leans into her musics deep-seated folk and country roots as effortlessly as she layers jealousy, longing, and contempt. Though "Same Gun" and "Vertigo" prove Maries wit is as deadpan as ever, she lets the facade come crashing down on "Blackout Signal," which captures the moments when existential dread and doubt feel just as insurmountable as social inequality. Despite all the changes she introduces on Cacti, the honesty of Maries music remains paramount, and the savvy and polish she brings to the album confirm shes an excitingly hard-to-pin-down artist. ~ Heather Phares

Rovi