Angel Deradoorian is not going to let you put her in a box. For an artist that so easily could have cashed in on a cult legacy, she’s, refreshingly, proven to be a singular voice since she embarked on a solo career following her departure from Dirty Projectors in 2013. Alright, sure, her time with that project may never have earned her marquee status, but never underestimate how an adored, impactful period of 2000/10s indie fare can earn an artist a lasting, if setting, time in the sun.
Her 2015 debut The Expanding Flower Planet may have dabbled in art pop recognizable to fans of her prior work, but even then she was distancing herself from the yelps and antics that she and Amber Coffman once traded in (a friend once called seeing them live with Longstreth as “as close as humans could to sounding like dolphins singing on stage”). By the time she delivered 2020’s masterful Find the Sun, she was working with an entirely different palette, painting in bold strokes of prickly, wounded psychedelic rock and even Krautrock. This latter interest led to her minimalistic Decisive Pink project alongside Kate NV, which delivered the underrated, endlessly playful Ticket to Fame.
So, then, she emerges with her third proper solo album, arguably her most painstakingly personal statement to date. For one thing, it was created, essentially, entirely in solitude. Enamored with the creative process and her inspirations, Deradoorian settled ever deeper into the role of producer as much as musician. She even came to see herself, in a sense, as a conduit through which her myriad of influences, interests, and curiosities could unleash themselves.
The songs of Ready for Heaven were developed, recorded, and textured entirely by Deradoorian, who endlessly tinkered with and reworked them until each piece of the murky puzzle fit together just the way she envisioned. Each song revolves and oscillates, dashing off in different directions. Take the midway run of “Digital Gravestone”, “Set Me Free” and “Golden Teachers”, which sound akin to a mad dash through a muddy jungle, roaming a crystalline maze, and a victorious, boastful parade, respectively). “Golden Teachers” in particular feels deserving of your summer playlist, with two offset key progressions, both insistent, playful guitar licks, a honeyed chorus, and even soaring sax all coming together to form a glorious testament to human endurance.
Thanks to this, each track very much lives and breathes in a world of its own, all while coming together to present a cohesive feeling. This feeling is one of longing, even desperation, to reach a pinnacle – a pinnacle that’s always, cruelly, in sight, yet so rarely reached by any among us. One of peace. One of acceptance. One of, dare we yearn to hope, perfection. Things like pop music, K-Dramas, and a great beach read present it to us every day: why is it so unreasonable to hope for some of that fulfillment ourselves?
Where Find the Sun largely dealt with harsh realities and accepting one’s lot, Ready for Heaven stands right up and says, “You know what? No. I want it all. I deserve it all. I can have it all.” It may be a personal pursuit, but it becomes a universal beacon: if Deradoorian can dare to dream, why can’t we?
