Cassandra Jenkins makes music with an impressionistic intimacy, making astute observations that dovetail neatly with her blend of folk and lush ambient pop. Combining songwriting with field recordings, spoken word, and immersive production, her work traces the emotional landscape as much as the physical—exploring themes of connection, loss, and change. At the center of it all is Jenkins’ curiosity toward the quarks and quasars that make up her universe, as she blends sound design with poetic lyricism.

A native New Yorker, Jenkins came up through the East Coast folk scene playing in her family’s band before launching a solo career in the mid-2010s. She also became active as a collaborator, playing in the touring bands of Eleanor Friedberger, Craig Finn, and Purple Mountains. On solo releases like 2017’s Play ’til You Win and 2021’s Overview on Phenomenal Nature, her music took on an experimental bent, folding in elements of dream pop and dusky indie rock. The latter album was something of a breakout for Jenkins, and for many, the entry point to Jenkins’ distinctive, anthropologically curious viewpoint and detailed, impressionistic songwriting that have come to define her sound. Written during a time in which Jenkins was grieving the loss of her bandmate, David Berman, the critical recognition disarmed the working artist, who was nearing total defeat in her journey.

She’s since followed up with My Light, My Destroyer (2024, out via Dead Oceans) from an even more assertive place, in her most ambitious work to date—from both a production standpoint and in its embrace of discomfort. In contrasting themes of light and destruction, hope and disillusionment, certainty and groundlessness, Jenkins explores her insatiable interest in the fine lines that divide the dualities present in the human experience, as well as the cosmos. She points to a psychological liminality and the in-betweens that we often overlook. Through it all, Jenkins offers a rare kind of songwriting—one that listens as much as it speaks, meeting the listener with curiosity, vulnerability, and a sense of wonder.

And Jenkins doesn’t stop there—for the insatiably curious songwriter, the world-building exercise of creating an album implies the existence of infinite wormholes that lie within. Quietly accompanying her primary releases, Jenkins crafted companion albums—(An Overview on) An Overview on Phenomenal Nature (2022), and the soon-to-be-released My Light, My Massage Parlor, due Sept 5 via Dead Oceans. Listeners are invited to follow along on her sidequests as she deepens her investigation of the paths not taken in her initial artistic statements. While her last follow-up revealed extended voice notes and songs from the cutting room floor, her upcoming concept album of newly arranged recordings explores the rooms that lie, quite literally, on the other side of the glass. What results is an instrumental concept album featuring her longtime collaborator Michael Coleman, tickling the ivories of a nine-foot Steinway and joined by a cast of woodwinds, horns, strings, wind chimes, and, of course, crickets.

In this re-envisioning, Jenkins demonstrates her ability to see from all angles with microscopic clarity as she brings us a cycle of songs lovingly born from her self-proclaimed spa era. Take the quizzical croon from MLMD’s lead single, “Only One”: “Stick figure Sisyphus, behind massage parlor window glass, how long will this pain in my chest last?” In My Massage Parlor, a familiar guitar solo transcends the original melody in “Only Relaxation,” following cityscape field recording that frames the album. Jenkins’ voice welcomes you into her bizarro world—one of only two times her voice appears on the otherwise instrumental album. Jenkins’ subtle sense of humor, combined with her genuine love of emotive jazz and nature cassette tapes from childhood, results in equal parts self-spoof and earnest expression.

To take this vision one step further yet, MLMMP will take the form of a two-pronged release. Jenkins’ interest in binaural audio and psychoacoustics extends to her Dolby Atmos mix of the digital format, which frames the songs within her cinematic universe of bustling downtown Manhattan and a literal massage parlor, while the limited edition vinyl remains unaware of the outside world and the role it’s playing—existing as a pure expression of music designed to lull the listener—perhaps Jenkins most of all—into a state of Delphinium Bliss, a spell cast from equal parts sincerity and play.