Mélanie Laurent, French actress better known as one of Quentin Tarrantino's Basterds, produces a wispy pop album leaning heavily on Charlotte Gainsbourg's discography, but without the benefits of Beck or Jarvis Cocker sitting in the pilot's seat. The result is a barely memorable album where the most interesting component is the mildly provocative cover art.

My first impression of Whokill, before even entertaining the album, was "Great, another pretentious band with an arbitrary, pain-in-the-ass name". Were you to pick up this release without an open mind, you would surely apply the adjectives contained in the previous sentence to the very music itself. It is fortunate that I did not, as Whokill is easily the most interesting album I have heard this year.

Merrill Garbus attacks the same brand of complex pop as Dirty Projectors' Bitte Orca, but without the inane lapses in song structure that the Projectors tried to pass off as ingenuity. Merrill's voice is soaring and expressive, blurring gender boundaries and spitting in the face of anyone who doubts whether or not a white girl can sing with soul. Garbus deserves the title of my favourite female voice.

"Interest" is not a precise equivalent to "enjoyment" however, and I often found myself undecided as to whether or not I was entertained or annoyed between songs. Whokill is a smattering of buckshot, aiming at anything in Garbus' range from indie pop to afrobeat, sometimes unsuccessfully, but always with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Whokill is well worth the shot.

The alternate title I would have given to this album is Enough Reverb Already. I've never really seen the merits of Animal Collective, and after evaluating both Tomboy and Person Pitch, believe this to be Panda Bear's fault. I heard nothing on Tomboy to separate it from the prior album, and quickly grew tired of the incessant, loudly produced vocals. If one is going to use the same texture in all of his music, it devalues the originality of the work.