Remi Wolf emerges, dirty but renewed, on ‘Mud’

“Mud” by Remi Wolf (Island Records) [AP Photo]

Remi Wolf, the pop singer-songwriter known for her funk and soul-inspired choruses and danceable, synthy beats, comes down to earth on “Mud,” her third studio album.

Or maybe she’s coming out of the earth: On the cover, she’s coated in the stuff and smiling — as if she has just emerged from the ground. That symbol of rebirth, dirty and imperfect but renewed, is central to the album, which delves into a breakup and Wolf’s relationship with alcohol and sobriety. The always genre-bending Wolf settles into territory she has only dabbled in before, stripping the productions down so that acoustic instruments take the forefront.

Consider “I Won’t Cry,” a ballad sung over a consistent drum beat, keys and the faint buzz of a turntable. “You can spin me like a record babe,” she sings, hoping for the return of a love lost. “Run me back and press replay.” By the third hook, her voice has intensified. It’s raw, yearning, broken. The song’s core metaphor is moving in its simplicity, and the production is restrained enough to let her searing vocals carry the emotion.

Wolf explores this loss further on “Jamie,” which starts with a spoken introductory verse, delivered as if she was perched on a wooden stool in a jazz bar leaning toward the audience. “I was face to face with eternity,” she ends her story, starting to sing. The bridge connects the rush of substances to relationships: “I wonder where you went my love / You were an addictive drug / A take over my life type drug.”

Wolf chases that feeling again on the more upbeat “Wine Drunk.” The track’s tongue-twister, rhyming lyrics (“Yeah you could make it permanent / I put you through the tournament”) are gripping, propelled by banjo and electric guitar. Energetically, “Wine Drunk” is a peak on the project, its clever lyrics showcasing a personality more familiar to fans of Wolf’s previous albums.

Her emotions may be unregulated, but her production choices keep the individual identities of the tracks clear. Each track feels like a different avenue for processing, like Wolf is taking us through the many stages of grieving a future she imagined.

For example: John Mayer lends vocals to “Moon So High,” another slower ballad set to guitar that recalls his own style. On “Guess,” Wolf retreats into a folk sensibility, her voice softening. “Am I in trouble now?” she coos. “Fighting it all out and baby / It’s all of me.” She’s crawling out of the muddy past, and to do so, she’s handing everything over to the listener — and flexing across the genre to do so. ELISE RYAN, MDT/AP