Sabrina Teitelbaum, who records under the band name Blondshell, is a longtime student of alt-rock. She knows a thing or two about all the ways in which a cutting lyric and thunderous guitar can rejuvenate the soul and soundtrack rage. On her sophomore album, “If You Asked for a Picture,” named after Mary Oliver’s 1986 poem “Dogfish,” she builds from the success of her earlier work – 2023’s self-titled debut and its haunting single “Salad.”
Over the course of 12 tracks, much like on her first album, Blondshell reckons with a woman’s role in her various relationships, personally and societally. Those messages — gritty, real, existential and fluid as they are — arrive atop visceral instrumentation, hearty guitars and punchy percussion.
“Oh well you’re not gonna save him,” she reminds listeners in “Arms.”
Much of “If You Asked for a Picture” sits at the intersection of modern indie, ‘90s grunge and ‘80s college radio rock, like that of “Event of a Fire.” On the acoustic fake-out “Thumbtack,” instrumentation builds slow and remains restrained. “Man” is muscular, with its soaring distortion and layered production.
On “If You Asked for a Picture,” relationships are nuanced, awkward and honest — her flawed and frustrated characters show how easy it is to succumb to the whims of someone who doesn’t have your best interest in mind, to become someone else when you don’t know who you are.
That’s clear on “Change,” where she sings, “It’s not my fault it’s who I am / When I feel bad I bring it back and leave it all at your door.” And the anxious complications compound: “A parting gift / Kiss me back / I’m sorry for changing.”
If there is a main weakness in “If You asked for a Picture,” it is that a number of the tracks bleed together sonically near the record’s end, making it hard to distinguish a three-song run: “Toy” to “Man.” Fans will likely label it stylistic consistency rather than tiresome repetition.
That said, there’s a lot to love here. “T&A,” “Model Rockets” and the palm-muted power chords of “What’s Fair” warrant repeat listens.
“Why don’t the good ones love me?” Blondshell asks on “T&A,” with its dreamy guitar tone “Watching him fall / Watching him go right in front of me.”
The swaying mellotron of “Model Rockets” ends the album.
“I’m a bad bad girl / Bad bad girl,” she adds to the closer. “Life may have been happening elsewhere / And I don’t know what I want anymore.”
It might serve as a mission statement for the album — where identity and desire are malleable, influenced by relationships and the evolving nature of the world, made more complicated by simply being a woman in it.
