For all the hullabaloo about contemporary young bands aping their '90s counterparts, very few have captured part of what was so great about the era's true indie rock: its unabashed humanity. Whether cynical or swooning with sincerity, it was up close, ragged and, to distort a Dinosaur Jr. album title, living all over you. (Maybe it's the modern difference of social media fooling us all with pretend intimacy?) Philly band Empath get it right on their second album, though. "I believe what I see but/ It can all feel so mindless/ History comes back to you in shards," Catherine Elicson sings amidst a haze so lo-fi dreamy it's almost trippy. (Indeed, there's a Dinosaur Jr. feel to those sunny, squalling guitars.) "You're soft like leather in the heat/ Because devotion comes so easily," go the lyrics of catchy "Born 100 Times," its rapid-fire drums and messy noise like an exposed nerve. Bottom-heavy "Passing Stranger'' is covered in thick fuzz and feels refreshingly real and unworried about perfection. Which isn't to say it isn't pretty—there's lots of pretty here, in those aforementioned songs as well as the punky shoegaze of "Genius of Evil" and caffeinated pep of "House + Universe," which goes from bouncy double-synth to a percussive mania. Elicson's voice is femme but never fragile, and brazenly all over the place. (Not unlike another peer who gets it right, Alicia Bognanno of Bully.) "Corner of Surprise" trembles with an excitement that echoes Bow Wow Wow, and "80s" is as wriggly and excitable as a puppy. There are also surprises, like the ring-a-ding Vegas shimmer and strut of "Elvis Comeback Special" and the twitchy math-rock touches of "Paradise"—with Elicson sounding like a siren in every sense. It's in no way fair to call them retro, but Empath's embrace of old-school imperfection feels radical. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz