Behind the soubriquet, Torres is 22-year-old Nashville musician Mackenzie Scott, a model of roiling restraint. She is the sort of songwriter – spare of intonation, barely adorned with instruments – who studies someone dropping ash in their coffee (as on Honey), and steps back from delivering some home truths. Later, she will stare into a waterfall (Waterfall), and consider leaping, but desist. Likewise, these 10 songs rarely tip over into unseemly action, but maintain their internalised, kinetic potential to the bitter end. Some may find the strangulated lack of catharsis frustrating – it often is – but anyone fond of latter-day leftfield singer-songwriters such as Sharon Van Etten or Waxahatchee will revel in discovering a more buttoned-up, southern version of their hypnotic relationship exegeses.