Having in her prior self-titled and 'Tan' EPs upturned geography, in 'Ancestor Boy' Lafawndah digs deep to unravel geology, mining emotions of the deep past and future. The album's physicality is elemental; its memory, mineral. It is a becoming-of-age story for a people yet to come, created out of a need to find the others. In the middle of the album's sonic and lyrical onslaught is the desire to share the uncertainties of growing up when you don't belong anywhere. With a palate equal parts chrome and dirt, ice and depth, Lafawndah's finesse with song architecture imbues the LP with an uncanny addictiveness: anthems loaded with trap doors. 'Ancestor Boy' imagines a pop music that is neither imperial nor local, but a freedom of movement; a residue, perhaps, from the album's nomadic creation between Los Angeles, Mexico City, New York, London, and Paris.