As a teenager, I had an unnatural obsession with poet Nicole Blackman and her work with The Golden Palominos. It was a gritty, industrial sound that used spoken word as its axis, and I loved everything about it. Mostly it had to do with her fluid, noir style that would hook in listeners before they even realized what was going on. In turn, I developed a deep admiration for artists who have the ability to verbally illustrate emotions and connect with their audiences.

Up until listening to New York-based singer/songwriter/composer Nancy Magarill’s “The Carousel,” it had been awhile since I had heard anything that resembled poetic styling of that nature – and it wasn’t until I nearly reached the end that I realized how much I missed listening to music like that. Especially with spoken track “Falling” that packs a depictive punch.

Magarill fluctuates between tender and fiery tracks that diverge from the ordinary, giving an intimate look to listeners. Highlights on the album include a honeyed, mellow introduction that displays Magarill’s soft singing in “Boom.” “Glass” is an infusion of strings and delicate harmonization that sounds like a lullaby. “I am not a Monster” is a punchy ode to the female identity, and “The Carousel” blends sensual vocals with somber lyrics.

From start to finish, the album bases itself on personal but somber storytelling. In context with elegant strings and reverberation of drums, it makes for a strong contribution in a musical era dominated by pop and hip-hop.