At one point on
Heaven to a Tortured Mind,
Yves Tumor sings "I can be anything." It may be the most definitive statement from an artist who resists boundaries as thoroughly, and creatively, as
Tumor does. Since 2015, they've established themself as an unparalleled musical chameleon, changing their sound and perspective with each release and often within a single track. On 2016's soulful collage
Serpent Music and the kaleidoscopic pop of 2018's
Safe in the Hands of Love, the leaps
Tumor made were huge. On
Heaven to a Tortured Mind, they're smaller, but just as profound. This time,
Tumor unites all the sounds they explored on their previous work into funky, futuristic, iridescent R&B pop that's more cohesive and immediate than anything they've done before. At this point, consistency is the most surprising move they could make, and
Heaven's sonic clarity is almost as startling. Starting with "Gospel for a New Century"'s hard-edged fanfares,
Tumor comes in louder and clearer than ever before. When they briefly revisit the noisy atmospheres that dominated their earlier releases, as on the skyrocketing distortion of "Medicine Burn" or the static-laden "Folie Imposee," it only underscores how far they've moved from that aesthetic on the rest of the album. This cleaner sound also lets the individual elements of
Tumor's brilliance shine. Their voice is more prominent than ever, along with the vocals of their collaborators, all of whom help make sensuality -- the main constant in
Tumor's work since
Serpent Music -- the focus of
Heaven to a Tortured Mind. The standout "Kerosene," a duet with singer/songwriter
Diana Gordon that's equally reminiscent of
Ariel Pink and
Childish Gambino, lives up to its combustive title. On "Romanticist" and "Dream Palette," they recruit
Kelsey Lu and
Sunflower Bean's
Julia Cumming to revel in the tender and turbulent extremes of new love. Similarly, their bass, the first instrument they learned how to play, provides an impressively serpentine spine for the drifting "Strawberry Privilege" as well as "Identity Trade"'s brassy psych-funk incantation. Frequently, the album feels like a love letter to the vintage soul
Tumor grew up hearing, whether on the radiant "Super Stars" or the shadowy, mystical finale, "A Greater Love." Previously,
Tumor has stated that they want to make songs listeners need to play. They more than achieve that on
Heaven to a Tortured Mind, an album that suggests the easiest way to define
Tumor is as an artist who consistently outdoes themself.